Kanna hurried after me as we passed through the gate and left behind the Iwa shinobi who couldn't follow us since they had to guard the fortress.
"Kaguya-hime, what you said… did you really mean that?" she couldn't help but ask.
I didn't blame her for asking, for wondering. After all, she must surely have considered if we would ever stop wandering around, settle down and have a home… or at least a place I could leave them when I was out and about.
"To walk through the Land of Earth without Iwagakure knowing would be impossible, and they wouldn't ignore us once they learned we were here. So either we would have to sneak around, which I won't lower myself to do, or we have to play ball with them," I slowly explained after confirming with my Byakugan that we were alone.
"Play ball?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Indeed," I nodded. "Either we are enemies, or potential allies, and as long as there is a chance we aren't enemies, they wouldn't want to make us into enemies. So by keeping the possibility open, they will gladly show us a bit of kindness, as it wouldn't cost them anything."
"But…" she paused, unsure if she should continue, but after a while, she finally found the courage to speak. "What happens when you turn them down?"
"As long as they think they have a chance, they won't do anything. I already informed them that Konoha isn't an option, and my name will make sure Kiri isn't either. And Suna? None would ever consider that an option, which leaves just two left," I said lightly.
"And Kumo? What about them?" Kanna asked, the curiosity unmissable.
"Indeed, what about them? Iwa would never consider them a threat. If I were the Tsuchikage, I would sit back and wait until we tried Kumo and came running back. Right now, we have two options, Iwa and Kumo, but Iwa has no problem waiting until we have no options but Iwa. That is when we lose the ability to negotiate for more."
"Why are they so sure?" she couldn't help but ask.
"Because they know Kumo, and know themselves. And indeed, Kumo would be more of a challenge, so Iwa is confident that we will join them as long as we don't become enemies," I explained my thoughts.
And while I couldn't be sure, I was rather confident that this would be what those in charge of Iwa would think.
Because indeed, Kumo came with a few issues that Iwa didn't, and only overwhelming strength would allow one to overcome them, because Kumo respected nothing but strength.
Had I been an Uchiha, Ōnoki might have worried that I did have the strength, as he had a shadow left by Madara on his heart, a fear of their power. But a Kaguya? He would never consider me strong enough to challenge the brutes of Kumo.
Kanna absorbed my explanation slowly as we walked. Her thoughts were written plainly on her face—worry, curiosity, and something that almost resembled admiration.
I did not slow for her sake.
But I did ensure my pace was one she could match.
The path through the first stretch of the Land of Earth wound sharply uphill, carved into the side of a cliff like an ancient scar. The terrain grew harsher at first—jagged stone, wind-carved pillars, narrow ridges where the air howled like a mourning spirit.
But then, as we descended from the mountains, the landscape shifted again.
The Land of Earth was vast, and unlike the caricature most outsiders believed, it was not merely endless stone.
…
Once we cleared the second ridge, the world opened into a sprawling plain of golden-brown grass rippling beneath the wind. Small farms dotted the distance—rice paddies fed by diverted mountain streams, healthy fields of wheat, scattered orchards of hardy trees whose roots could survive in rocky soil.
Kanna's eyes widened.
"This is… beautiful," she whispered.
I tilted my head slightly. "You sound surprised."
"I thought… Earth was only rocks and cliffs… like everyone says."
"While it is true that the Land of Earth is far less green than somewhere like the Land of Fire, it still has its own green areas, though yes," I said calmly, "it is mostly known for its mining and metal exports."
Kanna nodded slowly, absorbing the lesson.
We passed several farmers, their clothes worn, their hands callused. They bowed respectfully as we walked by. After all, we were dressed like nobles on a walk, and these farmers knew well that a noble could end them if offended.
And just because we appeared like easy targets, it was entirely possible we had hidden shinobi guards somewhere. So it was a good rule to never cross a noble's path.
Kanna still felt uncomfortable at the respect she was shown, but at least she didn't bow back all the time anymore.
…
Now, not everyone was as smart as the farmers. Tilling the earth was a noble task, and those who did it might appear foolish, but they weren't dumb.
Someone who was dumb, was a bandit.
Scum of the earth, worthless trash who knew nothing but greed and desire.
They were a problem, a curse, a blight upon the land itself, and had always been a problem. Even under my son, even under the rule of Hagoromo, they roamed the land.
In fact, there were fewer bandits under the rule of the great clans than under him; his free will and mercy meant he gave too many second chances, and didn't want to interfere too much in the affairs of others. Even Indra was often scolded for killing them.
The only time this world had ever been free of such vermin was under my rule.
When I erased problems instead of lecturing them.
Kill enough—and even the stupid learn.
Kanna did not know this, of course.
But she was about to learn something.
They didn't surprise us—well, Kanna didn't see it coming, but I had known about their ambush for over an hour before we reached them. Despite not being shinobi, they still had chakra. Not a lot, but enough that they couldn't hide before the Byakugan.
They too spotted us approaching, and I could see the twisted glee in their chakra.
I knew it from the stench alone.
Rotting sweat. Cheap alcohol. Blood not yet washed from hands that had ended more than livestock.
Filthy men.
Scum.
The kind I would have erased on sight in the age before chakra was stolen from me.
They burst from behind a cluster of boulders as we descended toward the plains, shouting with ugly excitement.
"Well, well, look what we got here!"
The first one grinned wide enough to show missing teeth and rotting gums.
A second spat into the dirt. "Two fancy ladies walkin' around without guards… must be spoiled nobles."
His eyes flicked to the expensive silk Kanna carried. "Bet they're full o' coin."
A third man—a grotesque giant with a broken nose—laughed.
"Forget the coin. Look at 'em! Even the blind one's pretty! We'll have ourselves a good time, eh boys?"
Kanna froze completely.
Her entire body shook.
I gently raised a hand out in front of her. It did little to physically shield her from their disgusting, greedy, and lecherous eyes, but she still calmed down.
After all, she knew well that while my hand might seem delicate, it was strong enough to hold up the sky for her, and within my reach, she was safe.
"Calm down, Kanna," I said softly, though my words cut sharper than bone. "They won't harm you. They won't even touch your clothes."
The bandits laughed.
"Ohhh? Listen to the little lady talk big," one sneered.
"She thinks she's scary."
"She's blind!" another cackled. "What's she gonna do, walk into us?"
"You should smile more, sweetheart," the giant brute jeered, stepping closer with heavy boots crunching gravel. "We'll have ourselves a—"
He did not finish.
He didn't get the chance.
A thin spike of bone erupted from the ground and speared clean through his boot, his ankle, and the dirt beneath in a single, unimpeachable motion.
He screamed.
The others jerked back in shock.
Kanna startled, but she clung to Karin tightly, trusting the promise in my voice more than the terror around us.
The giant writhed on the ground, clawing at the spike pinning him in place, eyes bulging with pain and disbelief.
"What—WHAT—?!"
"You should choose your words more carefully," I said.
The other bandits regained their senses just enough to snarl.
"You bitch—!"
"You think you're tough? Blind little—"
"She stabbed Goro! Get her!"
Three rushed me.
Brave?
No.
Stupid.
They moved with the clumsy confidence of men who had only ever preyed upon the weak. Men who mistook cruelty for strength. Men who had never once met someone who could end them without raising her voice.
I flicked two fingers.
Bone bullets shot out at blinding speed, shattering kneecaps, punching through thighs with a neat, efficient violence that filled the air with wet cracks.
All three crashed to the ground screaming.
Kanna's breath hitched as their cries echoed across the open plains.
Screams.
Begging.
Terror.
She did not look away.
Good.
Lessons were best learned honestly.
"You— you demon!" one of the crippled bandits spat. "You didn't— didn't even move—!"
"Why would I need to?" I asked.
His eyes widened.
The bone spear going through one of their legs was pulled back underground as I dismissed the hidden forest of bones. And I stepped closer—not fast, not dramatic, simply inevitable.
"You threatened us," I said. "You threatened her."
My gaze flicked to Kanna.
She flushed softly, still trembling, but she managed to meet my blindfolded face.
Her trust was absolute.
"And you threatened a child."
Their fear spiked so sharply it almost made the air taste metallic.
I raised my hand.
The earth answered.
It wasn't as much a ninjutsu as it was pure earth chakra manipulation, shaping the ground as I wished. And I wished these disgusting vermin away from me.
And so the earth obeyed, rising up and crashing down on them, shattering bones with merciless force and weight as they were buried. The last embers of life would be filled with fear and suffering.
The same fear and suffering they brought to so many innocent. Now they, too, would feel true helplessness as they were buried alive, begging for death that would only come so very slowly.
Faintly, their cries of pain could still be heard from the ground beneath our feet as I stepped forward.
The muffled screams vibrated through the earth for several long seconds—weak, broken, hopeless.
Then they faded into whimpers.
Then into nothing.
The golden grasses swayed in the breeze as if nothing at all had happened.
Kanna stood frozen, Karin tucked against her shoulder, staring at the patch of freshly-shifted soil where the men had vanished. Her breath trembled, her fingers dug into Karin's blanket, but she didn't look away.
I brushed off my sleeve, dusting away a few grains of dirt that had dared to touch me.
"Come," I said simply. "We are finished here."
Kanna swallowed. "You… buried them alive?"
"Yes."
"Wasn't that… cruel?" she whispered, though there was no judgment in her voice—only the tentative, stunned search for understanding.
"Not cruel enough," I answered.
Her breath caught.
"They preyed on the weak," I continued, walking as if we hadn't been interrupted at all. "They stole, killed, violated, and laughed. Their suffering is a mercy compared to what they inflicted."
"…I don't pity them," she admitted quietly after several moments.
"Good," I said. "Pity belongs to the innocent."
Karin, oblivious to everything, babbled happily and reached out to grab a lock of Kanna's hair.
(End of chapter)
Support me at patreon.com/unknownfate - for the opportunity to read up to 30 chapters ahead.