"Impressive speed, Yoru-kun."
Orochimaru, dripping wet, slowly stood up, his face filled with a fanatical expression.
"I'm growing more and more fond of you. It's a pity you don't have a Bloodline Limit; in the end, there's an upper limit to what you can achieve."
As Orochimaru spoke, a trace of loneliness flickered in his eyes.
Seeing Orochimaru's expression, Aoki Yoru felt a surge of contempt. This guy had his psyche shattered by Uchiha Itachi and had gone completely mad in his pursuit of the Uchiha bloodline.
"Upper limit? Have you limited yourself?"
Aoki Yoru raised his ninja blade and pointed it at him. "Hey, Orochimaru, who broke your spirit? To think you actually believe bloodlines are everything—what happened to that talent you were so proud of?"
Orochimaru's snake-like pupils narrowed slightly, and his fingertips curled gently within his sleeves. That hint of loneliness was instantly masked by a cold smile.
"Yoru-kun, you don't understand. Sometimes, a level of power you strive for by any means necessary is something others reach effortlessly just by virtue of their bloodline. Only then will you realize that talent and hard work are sometimes worthless in the face of a bloodline."
Looking at the sentimental Orochimaru, Aoki Yoru laughed—a wild and arrogant laugh.
"The bloodline you speak of certainly makes it easier for one to reach a certain height, but doesn't that same bloodline also restrict them from stepping into higher dimensions?"
He looked at Orochimaru with pity. "Orochimaru, you've lost your drive. You're like a frog at the bottom of a well, longing for the pond above and thinking it's the whole world, oblivious to the existence of the vast ocean beyond."
Orochimaru's smile froze on his lips, and that coldness was instantly consumed by madness. He stared intently at Aoki Yoru, his voice as raspy as sandpaper.
"A frog at the bottom of a well? You don't understand that sense of powerlessness at all!"
He clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white. "Once I obtain the perfect vessel, once I break the shackles of bloodline... then, I will let you see with your own eyes who truly belongs to that vast ocean."
Knowing he was completely trapped in a vicious cycle, Aoki Yoru said nothing more. He had originally wanted to trade with him for Hashirama cells and biological knowledge, but it seemed he would have to beat him into submission first.
"Well then, Orochimaru, show me whatever techniques you have left." He still wanted to see Orochimaru's methods; perhaps they could serve as a reference for his future Ninjutsu development.
Orochimaru didn't make a move. He simply gave him a deep look, then turned and walked away.
"Heh heh! Let's call it a day. Any further fighting would cause too much of a commotion. There will be plenty of opportunities to experience your skills in the future, Yoru-kun."
Watching Orochimaru's figure gradually recede, Aoki Yoru had no intention of pursuing. That guy had too many tricks up his sleeve; if pushed too far, he might resort to some mutually destructive method, which would be a huge loss for Yoru. After all, that guy was immortal.
He took a deep breath to calm his turbulent thoughts and gazed distantly toward the direction of Konoha.
"That bastard Danzo... I'll keep this debt in mind and settle it with him properly later."
He then turned and headed toward the Land of Artisans. The Ninja World was too full of surprises; he needed to get his weapon forged quickly.
Land of Artisans.
Located southwest of the Land of Fire and southeast of the Land of Wind (Sunagakure), it was situated within the borders of the Land of Rivers.
The entire country was surrounded by the Land of Rivers. Although it claimed to be a nation, it was actually only about the size of a single city.
The reason it hadn't been annexed by the Land of Rivers was its superb weapon-making craftsmanship. High-quality and affordable weapons and hidden tools were supplied to the entire Ninja World's weapon trade from here.
Its significant strategic importance meant that the major nations would not allow it to be controlled by any single country, not even a small one.
After three months of leisurely travel, Aoki Yoru finally arrived at the Land of Artisans.
For three whole months, he had traveled slowly through the mountains and fields, stopping and starting as he pleased. He rested when tired and hunted for food when hungry, cooking over open fires—essentially treating it like a casual wilderness excursion.
He would stop briefly at towns to restock on dry rations and experience the local customs.
During these three months, he hadn't traveled in a straight line to the Land of Artisans but had instead wandered throughout the Land of Fire.
The experiences during this time broadened his horizons significantly. He became intimately familiar with the geography, strategic locations, and local customs of various parts of the Land of Fire.
Standing at the city gate and looking up, he saw the Land of Artisans built into the cliffs and valleys. The roads were paved with forged iron plates, and the houses were all stone buildings and iron workshops.
Blast furnaces stood tall, their fires burning eternally. The air was filled with iron filings and the steam from quenching. Blades and iron chains hung in the streets and alleys, and smelting workshops and equipment warehouses were everywhere.
Even the children on the streets were using small furnaces to make their own toys, swinging little iron hammers and pounding away happily.
Aoki Yoru clicked his tongue at the scene. "As expected of a place world-renowned for its craftsmanship; it truly lives up to its reputation. This instinct for crafting is practically etched into their genes."
Walking down the punk-style streets, Aoki Yoru looked around like a country bumpkin entering a grand estate.
The locals were already used to this. Anyone coming to the Land of Artisans would lose their composure like this. The local craftsmen even warmly introduced various weapons to Aoki Yoru.
The various strange weapons on the shop tables opened his eyes, though their shapes and uses left him baffled.
But he knew it was normal. The Ninja World was full of people with all sorts of abilities. Just like before knowing Hidan's ability, anyone would wonder why he used such a clumsy and heavy scythe.
"Hmm?"
As Aoki Yoru was curiously looking around, his nose suddenly twitched, catching a sweet, toasted wheat scent.
Stimulated by the aroma, his stomach began to growl. Rubbing his belly, Aoki Yoru followed the scent to its source.
"Hearthside Eatery? Good grief, even the restaurants are so down-to-earth."
Marveling at the restaurant's sign, Aoki Yoru pulled back the curtain and stepped inside.
Entering the small shop, a wave of warmth mixed with sweetness washed over him. The shop wasn't large, simply furnished with a few wooden tables and stools, and the walls were clean and elegant.
Freshly baked pastries were neatly stacked on wooden shelves by the wall, and the bowls and plates were arranged tidily. It was a simple, ordinary home-style eatery.
A beautiful young woman standing behind the counter saw the guest enter and came forward to greet him warmly.
Aoki Yoru strode over and sat at a table. "Proprietress, bring me a serving of the local specialty!"
"Coming right up! Please wait a moment, guest!"
She gave Aoki Yoru a sweet smile and then turned to enter the kitchen.
A short while later, the proprietress brought out several Wheat Cakes. "Guest, try these. They are a delicacy unique to our Land of Artisans."
Aoki Yoru nodded, picked up his chopsticks, and lifted a piece. It was golden brown on the surface and still sizzling with oil.
"Mmm! Not bad, the taste is really good—sweet and crispy." After taking a bite, Aoki Yoru couldn't help but praise it. This was a rare delicacy he had enjoyed since transmigrating to this world.
Suddenly, he turned to the proprietress. "Who is the most skilled swordsmith around here?"
"Oh? You're looking for a swordsmith, guest?" The proprietress, who was doing the accounts, looked up and smiled. "Then you've asked the right person. My father is one of the top swordsmiths in the Land of Artisans. Once you're finished eating, I'll take you to see him."
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