The journey through the Land of Fire took about a week. Orochimaru's team, escorting the caravan, could not move at their maximum speed. The morning coolness gave way to the scorching midday heat, sunsets painted the skies in crimson hues, and at night thin smoke rose over their improvised camps from the campfires. The road wound through green plains, ruts, and hills.
"I never thought a shinobi's life could be this boring," Nawaki grumbled, swaying on the edge of a thick tree branch. "At the Academy, missions were described very differently."
"At the Academy they didn't tell us a lot of things," Mikoto snorted. "For example, that listening to clients' whiny stories is also 'shinobi work.'"
At that time, Kuro sat a little apart from the others, catching the sunlight filtering through the leaves in his palms. He looked serene, yet kept a careful watch on the surroundings.
"We're escorting a client," he said calmly without turning around. "It's really not fun, but it's still new experience. I don't know about you, but for example, this is my first time leaving Konoha. And it's our first mission — we'll still have time to fight."
"Yes, yes, Kuro-san, you're as serious as ever," Nawaki grimaced, though without his former enthusiasm. "Although… maybe you're right."
Orochimaru was silent for most of the journey, walking at the front and occasionally giving instructions — change formation, shorten the distance between the carts, or choose better hours for rest. His eyes constantly scanned the surroundings, catching the smallest details.
On the seventh day, hills began to appear. The road became rougher, the grass taller. The forests grew denser, and the air more humid. Somewhere in the distance the sounds of a river could already be heard, and in the morning mist the outlines of bamboo groves began to emerge.
"We're approaching the border," Orochimaru said, stopping at the top of one of the hills. "Ahead lies the Land of Grass."
He paused for a moment, gazing into the distance, then continued:
"It's small, but the terrain is difficult: many gorges, rivers, and rare, strange forests. We'll be vulnerable the entire way, especially with a caravan."
"Then maybe we should go around?" Nawaki suggested, scratching the back of his head.
"No. Despite all its drawbacks, it's still the safest and most direct route," he turned his head slightly and smiled.
After making slight adjustments to the plan, they moved on. The wheels of the carts creaked softly, birds sang in the branches, and a fresh breeze carried the scent of leaves and damp earth. Orochimaru's team traveled along the northwestern route, heading toward the border with the Land of Earth.
"I've never been to these parts," Nawaki remarked, looking around. "They say there are entire forests here where giant mushrooms grow instead of trees. Can you imagine that?"
"Not really," Kuro replied flatly, walking a little behind. "Sounds disgusting, doesn't it?"
"I don't know, I'd like to try them."
"Be more serious," Orochimaru intervened. "Even though the Land of Grass is neutral, mercenaries and small bands pass through it often. Stay alert."
Throughout the journey, the team didn't forget to train. Mikoto practiced stances and strikes with her katana, Nawaki constantly created shadow clones that spread out in all directions as scouts, and Kuro recalled a rather useful ability of the Ten Shadows shown by Megumi.
He could literally store objects in his shadow or even hide himself there. The only limitation was that he had to withstand the full weight of whatever was hidden inside. At first, he had somehow forgotten about this ability, perhaps due to lack of necessity, but once on a mission, he realized just how useful such a skill could be.
At one point, the road led them through a bamboo grove. The stalks bent in the wind, creating a rustling sound like whispers. With every step, the forest grew denser and… quieter.
Kuro suddenly stopped. His pupils narrowed, and he froze, listening. Chakra echoed faintly through the ground, slipping away into the bamboo shadows.
"What is it?" Mikoto asked softly, noticing Nara's frown.
"I can sense someone else's chakra. It feels very far away, but at the same time clearly perceptible." He turned his gaze to Orochimaru. "We're being tracked."
The Sannin didn't slow his pace at all. Only the corner of his mouth twitched in a barely noticeable smirk.
"So it begins," he whispered with almost sadistic pleasure. "Be ready. And don't show that you noticed anything. I'll check it myself."
In an instant, the Sannin vanished with Shunshin, leaving not even a trace behind. The caravan continued moving, but the atmosphere had clearly changed. The peaceful sounds of nature now inspired unease.
On one of the hills, hidden within a dense bamboo grove, five figures were quietly conversing, barely moving their lips. Their faces were concealed beneath hooded cloaks, but the worn, scratched forehead protectors made it clear — these were not ordinary shinobi.
All five were nukenin, traitors from the Hidden Stone Village.
"So this is our target?" one of them sneered — tall, wiry, with thick dark eyebrows, named Sato. "A caravan and three kids. Not impressive."
"Don't relax," grunted another, with sharp features and a scar on his cheekbone — Taguma. "Someone has to be with them. Look at that black-haired one. Hardly detectable, but he's definitely a jōnin."
"So what?" laughed the third, a burly brunet with a blade hanging from his belt — Iwate. "The captain will deal with him, like always."
"Hm…" responded the quietest of them, Bando. Cracking his fingers, he said, "The main thing is that they didn't go through the Village Hidden in the Rain. I don't want to draw Hanzo's attention…"
"That's for sure. Provoking that monster would be too stupid," grumbled their leader, gloomy and slightly gray-haired Hokuna. His voice was hoarse, but heavy like rolling thunder. "You two, don't make too much noise. We'll wait for night and attack when they relax."
At that very moment, the surrounding silence seemed to thicken. No rustle, no whisper. Only a strange, sticky sensation of cold crawled over their skin. Taguma was the first to notice something slipping out of the grass. Too fast.
"What the—?"
He didn't finish before dozens of snakes burst from the ground, coiling tightly around Hokuna's legs, arms, and neck. The mercenary leader shuddered and tried to use chakra, but it was useless.
"HA?!" Taguma roared in rage and tried to move, throwing a kunai and rushing toward the captain, but a lightning-fast kick sent him flying. A snake immediately wrapped around his wrists and slammed him to the ground. The remaining three froze. Their bodies refused to obey — a shiver ran across their skin. Their hearts pounded three times faster, legs giving way.
This wasn't a technique — it was pure killing intent. Cold, oppressive, and terrifying.
"How… a monster…" Iwate whispered, clutching his chest.
"Damn it, we're screwed…" Sato forced out, staring at the man who had immobilized them in an instant.
He was slender, very pale, and his eyes — yellow like a snake's — gleamed with murderous delight. His hands hung lazily at his sides, as if they posed no threat to him at all.
"Five nukenin from Stone," Orochimaru said with a thin, unhinged smile. "What an… interesting group."
Hokuna snarled helplessly, still trying to break free, but the snakes held him tight.
"Who… are you…?"
"The one who asks questions," Orochimaru squatted down right in front of him. "So. Who hired you? What is your objective?"
Taguma clenched his teeth and hissed:
"A merchant named Hatsen. A competitor of that Yukai. He paid us to make sure the caravan didn't reach its destination."
"Too boring," Orochimaru nodded dully. "But I have an interesting proposal. First, though, how about your strength? You're a jōnin, I assume?"
Orochimaru looked at the band's leader, and after receiving a nod, continued:
"And the rest are chūnin?"
"I'm a Tokubetsu Jōnin," Taguma answered grimly.
"Wonderful. That works. I have three students — they're young, talented, but too green. I want them to taste real blood. So… you four will attack the caravan now. And you, captain," his voice dropped even lower, "will stay with me. After all, you're supposed to delay me, aren't you?"
The nukenin froze in astonishment.
"You're… telling us to attack… with you right here?" Bando rasped.
"Exactly. If you defeat my students, you'll be free. I'll close my eyes and give you five seconds to disappear. But… if you lose…"
He straightened up, brushed his hair back, and gave a faint chuckle.
"I suppose you already know the answer. You," the future Sannin pointed at the Tokubetsu Jōnin, "will take the black-haired boy. The rest — act as you see fit."
In the next moment, the snakes began to slowly retreat, as if hinting: their chance was right now.