A few days later, Kagetsu pushed open the wooden door and stepped outside.
The villagers froze.
Every gaze turned toward him.
There was reverence in their eyes,respect for strength.
But there was something else as well.
Fear.
The same fear they had shown the yōkai.
He understood.
In his current state, he hardly resembled a living man. It was already fortunate they hadn't driven him away with farming tools and torches.
So he ignored the stares and stood quietly at the doorway, watching them rebuild what remained of their village.
"My lord… is there something you require?"
Yuriko hurried over, setting down the bucket in her hands before bowing deeply. Her voice trembled with nervous respect.
Kagetsu saw it clearly,gratitude, yes. But beneath it, fear.
His gaze drifted past her to the man nearby,her husband. The woodcutter who had found the Edo Tensei scroll.
The man held a timber beam, pretending to work, but his darting eyes betrayed him.
Awe had long since given way to unease.
"Do not be nervous," Kagetsu said evenly. "I have come to say farewell."
Yuriko stiffened.
He could not blame them.
An undead shinobi lingering in their village would only deepen suspicion over time. Fear would fester. And fear always turned into isolation,or worse.
Just then, the little girl broke free from her father's hand and ran to Yuriko's side. She peeked out from behind her mother's kimono, staring up at Kagetsu with wide, curious eyes.
No fear.
Only wonder.
"Thank you for sheltering me these past few days," he said calmly.
From within his robe, he produced a small wooden plaque, no larger than a playing card, and handed it to Yuriko.
"Take this. Consider it a token for awakening me."
She waved her hands frantically. "My lord, there's no need,please, you're too generous! Why leave so suddenly? The village can still provide for you,"
"I know you are afraid," he said, gently but firmly cutting her off. "And you are right to be."
His voice remained level.
"I am already dead. I cannot remain here forever. If I do, your family will suffer for it."
He pressed the plaque into her palm.
"A clone of mine is sealed inside. If a yōkai attacks again, smear it with blood and throw it at the enemy,or simply break it. The technique will activate once."
Yuriko's fingers tightened around the plaque.
Her eyes reddened.
She bowed deeply, forehead nearly touching the ground.
"Then… Please travel safely, my lord. May fortune bless your path."
He gave a faint nod.
Then he crouched before the little girl.
He gently ruffled her hair,a rare softness touching his expression.
"Little one, I'm leaving."
"Goodbye, Uncle!" she chirped brightly.
"Hold out your hand," he said, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "I'll give you something interesting."
Her eyes lit up immediately. She stretched out her small palm.
"What kind of interesting thing?"
A pale blue spark of chakra condensed at his fingertip.
He tapped it lightly against her palm.
Three black tomoe briefly formed against her skin,
Then vanished.
He had sealed a single-use ninjutsu there. It would activate instinctively if her life was threatened.
Enough to save her once.
"Eh? It disappeared!" she said, flipping her hand over and over in confusion.
He rose.
"Until we meet again."
Without another word, he turned and walked toward the forest beyond the village.
The wind stirred through the trees.
And then he was gone.
"ROAR,!"
A thunderous bellow split the night.
Kagetsu paused.
Ahead, shadows shifted among the trees. A massive bear burst from behind a rock outcropping, crimson eyes gleaming with hunger. Saliva dripped from its jaws as it charged, dead leaves scattering beneath its paws.
He did not move.
Not until the beast leapt.
At that instant, his figure blurred,vanishing like smoke.
He reappeared behind it.
Click.
The sound of a blade sliding back into its sheath.
He continued walking.
The bear's body carried forward on momentum before collapsing.
Its head hit the ground with a heavy thud.
Blood poured from its severed neck.
He inhaled faintly.
"What a waste," he muttered. "I've heard bear paws are a delicacy. Pity I don't know how to cook."
Though Edo Tensei bodies required no food, they could still taste. Sustenance came instead from the reanimation formula continuously absorbing natural energy and converting it into chakra.
He glanced back at the corpse.
"…Still. It would be foolish to leave it."
"Kamui."
Space spiraled before him.
From the vortex, a scroll dropped into his hand.
He had commissioned it in a town he'd passed through earlier, later inscribing sealing formulas onto it himself,turning it into a storage scroll.
He unfurled it and sealed the bear's body inside.
Then tossed the scroll back into the Kamui dimension.
Why not store it directly in Kamui?
Because storage scrolls preserved contents through sealing techniques.
The Kamui dimension did not.
Meat would rot eventually.
As he turned to leave,
He stopped.
His gaze shifted to the dense forest on his left.
"Awoo,!"
A shrill, unnatural howl echoed through the trees.
A crimson shape burst forward, splintering trunks as it charged.
A humanoid yōkai, nearly three meters tall.
Crimson skin.
Twisted horns.
A massive wooden club in its grip.
Each step shook the ground.
It swung the club down toward him.
Under the Mangekyō Sharingan, its movements were painfully slow.
He leaned slightly.
The club crashed into empty air.
Chakra flared beneath his feet.
He shot upward, flipping above the creature's head.
"Foot of Pain!"
His heel, cloaked in chakra, descended like a falling meteor.
Boom.
The yōkai's skull smashed into the earth.
The ground cratered half a meter deep, cracks spiderwebbing outward.
"Another one delivered to my doorstep."
He landed lightly beside the twitching body.
Unfastening a scroll from his back, he spread it open.
"Sealing Art: Kishō Tensei Seal."
A strange suction erupted from the parchment.
Pale green life force rose from the monster's body, drawn out in shimmering streams and absorbed into the seal.
This technique was derived from the forbidden art created by the elder puppeteer Chiyo.
But unlike the original, which sacrificed one's own life to restore another, his modified version extracted life force from unconscious enemies and stored it within a sealed space.
It was preparation.
A step toward true resurrection.
As the final strand of vitality was drained, the yōkai's body withered into a shriveled husk.
He closed the scroll.
Strapped it across his back.
"One step closer."
Then he turned,
And continued into the darkness.