Fourteen-year-old Senju Shuichi stood at the edge of the crowd, his fingers tightening slightly.
He looked at the man in front of him who had announced the dissolution, and for the first time truly realized that the Ninshu, which had lasted for hundreds of years, had ended just like that.
Senju Shuichi could not help but shed a tear.
Afterward, his Uzumaki friend beside him could not help asking, "Shuichi, why are you crying?"
Senju Shuichi shook his head and said, "It's nothing. Where are you Uzumaki clan planning to go?"
His Uzumaki friend smiled proudly and said, "We're moving to a small island in the east! Finally, we don't have to stay with these idiots anymore."
Senju Shuichi nodded.
On the other side, Sarutobi did not say another word.
He only lowered his head slightly, as if he had completed something that had long been destined to happen.
The wind rose outside the hall, blowing through the empty corridors.
On this day, the Ninshu's flag was slowly lowered.
The news of the Ninshu's dissolution was like a heavy hammer, completely smashing the last shell of unity in this era.
The various clans quickly withdrew.
The Senju clan found a new piece of land and began dividing its borders again.
The Hagoromo clan silently withdrew to the north and maintained close contact with the Uchiha.
(In the original work, Hagoromo also fought the Senju together with the Uchiha.)
After moving to the island, the Uzumaki clan closed most of its channels to the outside world and maintained contact only with the Senju.
In order not to let their strength decline, the three Pig, Deer, and Butterfly clans maintained their alliance on the surface, but each strengthened their own clan territory and no longer shared intelligence as openly as they had in the past.
It would probably take many years before they could make peace again.
The Sarutobi clan and the Shimura clan, meanwhile, occupied the core area near the former Ninshu's main hall without hurry. They neither expanded actively nor showed weakness.
A new life slowly unfolded upon the cracks.
No one mentioned "unity" anymore, and no one believed in "togetherness" anymore.
Each clan governing itself became the truest backdrop of this era.
———
Deep within the void, Arisu's figure silently appeared.
He stood with his hands behind his back, beneath him a vast but not yet fully formed space, the Pure Land.
Unlike the Pure Land in the first cycle, which was already filled with flourishing flowers and peaceful lives, this place still clearly bore traces of being "unfinished."
Under the gray-white sky, large stretches of land were slowly being developed. In the distance, one could vaguely see transmigrators opening up the land.
Those figures were the transmigrators Arisu had erased earlier.
At present, apart from Yumeko, all the other transmigrators were here.
And higher up, a black silhouette floated quietly.
That was the Grim Reaper created personally by Arisu.
The Grim Reaper was naturally the supervisor.
Arisu slowly descended and stood at the edge of the not-yet-completely-formed Pure Land.
In the first cycle, he had opened this place to everyone.
Whether they were powerful figures who had once been famous or passersby whose names no one even remembered, after death they could all enter the Pure Land and live a life without war, hunger, or suffering.
At that time, he had thought, everyone was equal, and every soul deserved to be treated well.
But now it was different.
Arisu raised his hand and gently brushed aside a strand of light dust in the void.
"They're all NPCs."
Arisu muttered to himself, his voice without the slightest ripple.
In cycle after cycle, these people would be born, grow, struggle, and die, then appear again in the next cycle, repeating almost the same trajectory.
Their joy and anger, their love and hatred, their obsessions, in the eyes of those in a higher dimension, were nothing more than fixed lines in a predetermined script.
Fate was not fate.
Because in the next life, they would go through it all over again.
So this time, Arisu did not intend to open the Pure Land to those nameless NPCs anymore.
Only the main characters who could truly influence the plot and change the direction of the game were qualified to enter this place after death and receive a "special arrangement."
As for everyone else…
When they died, they were dead.
Their souls would return to the cycle of reincarnation and continue the next unconscious repetition.
Arisu stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze slowly sweeping across the entire Pure Land that was still taking shape.
The Grim Reaper sensed his will, lowered his head slightly, and respectfully saluted.
Arisu nodded slightly, then left.
Several more years passed.
Sarutobi's temples had long since turned completely white, and his once-straight back had gradually become hunched.
He sat in a quiet room near the former main hall of the Ninshu, listening to the occasional sound of wind outside the window. His gaze, however, was becoming increasingly faint.
The various clans had long since gone their separate ways. Clashes still occasionally occurred along the borders, but no one had ever tried to piece the broken unity back together.
The dissolution he had personally pushed forward had finally become an established fact of this era that could not be reversed.
On this day, he lay in bed.
His breathing had already become slow and heavy.
The light outside the window gradually slanted westward, falling across his aged face.
Sarutobi closed his eyes, and his entire life echoed uncontrollably through his mind, from following Ashura, to maintaining the Ninshu, and then to personally tearing it apart.
Every step had been taken steadily, and every step had been gently pushed along by someone.
Sarutobi suddenly let out a low laugh, his voice hoarse and carrying a trace of indescribable bitterness.
"…In the end, I'm just a puppet manipulated by the will of heaven…"
As soon as he finished speaking, the air became slightly tense.
Arisu's light and shadow silently appeared, standing beside the bed with his hands behind his back and the faintest smile at the corner of his mouth.
"What? You don't want to be my puppet?"
Arisu asked indifferently.
"My lord!?"
Sarutobi suddenly opened his eyes, then slowly relaxed again.
Looking at that familiar figure, he smiled bitterly and shook his head.
"My lord is joking."
"Without you, I would never have been able to become the master of the Ninshu."
Sarutobi wanted to get up, but Arisu gently pressed him down and said, "You're already so old. There's no need for formalities."
Sarutobi nodded, flattered.
Arisu nodded slightly and said nothing more.
The room was quiet for a moment.
Sarutobi's breathing became even lighter.
He was silent for a while before finally asking in a low voice, "My lord… how much longer do I have to live? Can I still do things for you?"
Arisu smiled faintly. This Sarutobi really knew how to speak.
Low EQ: Am I about to die?
High EQ: My lord, do I still have time to do more things for you?
"Now.", Arisu said.
Sarutobi's entire body stiffened slightly.
A moment later, Sarutobi helplessly and slowly nodded.
"Thank you, my lord."
"Then… where will I go after I die?", Sarutobi could not help asking again.
Arisu's gaze softened slightly.
"The Pure Land."
"You'll be well taken care of there. You'll live a good life there."
After hearing this, the corners of Sarutobi's mouth curved up ever so slightly.
He asked nothing else. He simply closed his eyes and slowly breathed out his final breath.
The room fell silent again.
Arisu stood where he was and looked at the body that was no longer breathing for a moment before raising his hand and waving it.
Sarutobi's soul was silently drawn out, following a faint path of light in the void and falling into the Pure Land that was still being continuously developed.
The Grim Reaper's gaze swept over from afar, then moved away.
There was already a place prepared for him there.
Arisu put his hands behind his back and looked at the entire Sarutobi clan. Anyway, according to the original plot, Sarutobi Hiruzen would also stand at the top of the shinobi world.
It could also be considered his own arrangement.