109. A Loving Father and a Dutiful Son

“You’re back.”

Kisame saw Ye Cang at the door through the mirror. Turning around, he took a garment from the clothes rack and draped it over himself.

Noticing Ye Cang seemed hurried upon entering, Kisame asked, “Did something happen?”

Ye Cang took a deep breath, her face grave. “News just came from the prison—half a month ago, the Third Shinobi World War erupted in full force…”

She proceeded to relay all the intelligence she had gathered.

The whole conflict began recently when Sunagakure announced a shocking development: the strongest Third Kazekage had been missing for nearly a year and was presumed dead. His disciple, Rasa, succeeded him as the Fourth Kazekage.

As soon as the news broke, the Land of Lightning seized the opportunity, exploiting the unstable foundation of the new Kazekage to launch a full-scale invasion of the Wind Country, igniting the flames of war.

The Land of Lightning, a nation devoted to martial prowess, had endured nearly three decades of quiet buildup after their defeat in the First Shinobi World War, amassing formidable military strength.

Now they struck back fiercely.

This time, while attacking the Wind Country, they also launched offensives against the Land of Earth and the Land of Fire, opening three fronts with ambitions to unify the shinobi world.

Amidst the chaos, Konoha and Iwagakure clashed at their borders, triggering open warfare.

Among the five great shinobi villages, only Kirigakure of the Land of Water remained uninvolved, appearing as a detached bystander. Yet behind the scenes, they surely had their own schemes and would seize any chance to intervene.

When great powers collide, the smaller nations suffer.

Caught in the crossfire, minor shinobi villages like Kusagakure were the first to fall victim.

A week ago, the forces of the Land of Lightning, Earth, and others appeared within Kusagakure’s borders, turning it into a battleground amid fierce fighting.

Countless innocent civilians were slaughtered, their blood staining the rivers.

In this dire situation, the senior leaders of Kusagakure, including Mu, were incensed. To save their village, they increased their efforts, sacrificing over a dozen prisoners in succession.

Desperate to open the Elysium Box.

After hearing Ye Cang’s report, Kisame fell into deep thought.

The timing and details of the Third Shinobi World War differed somewhat from his memories. As a traveler from another world, perhaps his presence had triggered a chain of butterfly effects.

The great war was underway, chaos engulfing the land, and the shinobi world would soon become perilous. There was no time to hesitate.

With this resolve, he said to Ye Cang, “I’m going to make my move on the Elysium Box.”

Is it finally coming?

Ye Cang shuddered. Over the past six months, while monitoring Mu and the others, she had witnessed the Elysium Box consume many prisoners’ lives, fully understanding its terrifying nature.

At this moment, she found herself worried for Kisame.

Outside the prison in Kido City, a gentle breeze swept across a stretch of tender green grass.

Beneath a great tree stood a black-haired boy and a white-haired girl, practicing ninjutsu.

“Fire Style: Ghost Lantern!”

The black-haired boy expertly formed hand seals, summoning dozens of ghostly blue flames shaped like malevolent spirits, floating spectacularly around him.

It was clear he possessed exceptional ninjutsu talent and an enormous chakra reserve.

He was Mu’s son—Muku, an unprecedented prodigy of Kusagakure.

Beside Muku stood his childhood friend Ryusha, a white-haired girl and fellow genius endowed with the bloodline limit “Dragon Life Rebirth.”

“Muku, what’s wrong?” Ryusha noticed his uncharacteristic mood; he seemed burdened, distracted during training.

“Ryusha, tomorrow is the day I assist my father in opening the Elysium Box,” Muku said with his head bowed.

“Really? So the day has finally come. Honestly, I envy you—you’re usually so carefree, yet you’re destined to become the village hero.”

Ryusha’s eyes sparkled with admiration and anticipation, oblivious to the lurking danger.

But Muku silently harbored a foreboding sense — what if he never returned?

Yet, at this point, for the sake of the village, he had no choice but to trust his father Mu and accept his fate.

The next day.

In the underground laboratory.

Muku lay on an operating table, surrounded by Mu and other members of Kusano Mi, preparing for the final sacrificial ritual.

“Muku, your chakra will help us open the Elysium Box and restore Kusagakure. As your father, I am proud of you.”

Mu’s words were firm as he raised his hands to form the seals, preparing to cast the jutsu.

Then suddenly—

“I advise you not to do this.”

Kisame’s voice echoed from behind the group, causing Mu and the others to turn pale with shock and alarm.

“So you knew all along,” Mu said coldly, eyes fixed on Kisame and Ye Cang emerging from the shadows.

“Stop them! No matter what, Mu must complete the ritual today and open the Elysium Box as its guardian!”

Several high-ranking Kusagakure shinobi stepped forward, resolute and ready to die.

“Don’t get worked up. If you insist on going through with this, I won’t stop you,” Kisame said, waving his hand and nodding to Ye Cang. The two calmly moved to the side, taking seats as if watching a spectacle.

The Kusagakure members exchanged uneasy glances.

“In that case, I’ll let you witness the true power of the Elysium Box.”

Mu glanced once at Kisame and Ye Cang, then without hesitation, his eyes gleamed fiercely as he pressed a palm to Muku’s chest.

“Ugh…”

Muku emitted a muffled groan, his face contorted in pain.

The next moment—

Boom!

A massive surge of chakra burst forth from Muku’s body, flowing into the door opposite the operating table, causing it to glow with a dazzling red light.

Under Mu and the others’ anxious, hopeful gazes, the face carved on the door opened wide, emitting a suction force that pulled the now unconscious Muku entirely inside.

Yet, to their profound disappointment, the door soon returned to silence, as if nothing had happened.

After a brief silence—

Bang!

Mu clenched his fist and slammed it violently against the table.

“Impossible! Why? Why can’t I open the Elysium Box even after all this?”

He roared with frustration, his long hair disheveled, his expression edging toward madness.

The other Kusagakure leaders slumped to the floor, utterly disheartened.

They had spent decades striving to open the Elysium Box—constructing the prison on this desolate island, sacrificing prisoners as offerings, pouring their hearts and souls into the effort—only to fail.

All for nothing.

Perhaps the legends surrounding this box were never true, and their hopes to revive Kusagakure through it were mere wishful thinking.

As Mu and the others’ spirits sank,

Kisame rose and strode past them toward the door.

Mu watched silently, neither willing nor able to stop him.

From Mu’s perspective, even as the hereditary guardian of the Elysium Box for generations, he could not open it. How could Kisame, an outsider, succeed?

He even suspected that the box had been damaged during the wars of the Sage of Six Paths’ era.

Now, it was nothing more than a broken box.