"No, I just got up to use the bathroom and noticed you were gone. Then I heard so noises."
Xiahu Early Spring let out an awkward laugh, scratching his cheek and still half-asleep.
"Were you a ninja once?" Saitama asked curiously. He had sensed the chakra within Xiahu the first ti they t.
"Eh?" Xiahu gave a bitter smile, and a distant look clouded his eyes as mories surfaced.
"I never had the talent to beco a ninja. Even though I yearned for that life—like tens of thousands of others—I ultimately failed. I’m just an ordinary military general," Xiahu admitted.
"Still," he continued, "while I didn’t have the chakra control or aptitude to be a shinobi, my abilities as a warrior were decent."
Saitama remained silent for a mont, then said, "Go get so rest. I’ll keep watch."
He wasn’t in the mood for a long conversation. He was just a temporary escort; once this mission ended, their paths would likely never cross again. The shinobi world was different. Even the wealthy couldn’t easily get close to it.
"Alright, I’m still a bit sleepy."
Xiahu got up and looked like he was going to pat Saitama on the shoulder but stopped mid-motion under the boy’s gaze. Smiling sheepishly, he withdrew his hand, clearly embarrassed.
"Hmph."
As he watched the noble climb back into the carriage, Saitama exhaled a quiet sigh.
Since becoming a ninja, he found it harder and harder to connect with civilians. His mindset had shifted.
His eyes lingered on the flas for a while longer before he got up and returned to the caravan.
Climbing onto the roof of the carriage, he wrapped himself in the blanket Xiahu had given him earlier.
Even winter deserved so respect.
---
The rest of the night passed without incident, though a few clueless beasts wandered into the camp. They seed to be asserting territory—until Saitama swiftly cut them down. Their carcasses were left by the fire, soon to be turned into breakfast.
Rrrrip!
The curtain of the carriage flapped open. Xiahu erged, looking refreshed and cheerful.
"Good morning, Saitama!"
"Morning," Saitama replied from the roof.
"What’s that sll? It’s amazing!"
Following his nose, Xiahu walked over to the fire.
Baji-hu and the rest of the servants had already been up for so ti. Saitama had given them the beasts he’d slain the night before, and they were roasting them now.
"That aroma cos from the prey Master Ninja gave us," Baji-hu said respectfully. "We’re roasting the at to take with us on the road."
"Excellent! Give a leg—I’m starving just slling it!"
Waving casually, General Xiahu issued the order.
"Yes, my lord!"
Baji-hu imdiately obeyed, rushing off to fetch the at.
Munching contentedly on a leg, Xiahu patted his belly and asked for a bottle of wine. He sipped leisurely, basking in the morning sun.
Saitama, wearing his blade, paid no mind to the festivities. His eyes were half-lidded from fatigue. Though still energetic, the lack of sleep weighed on him.
"When you’re ready, we’ll head out," Xiahu called as he climbed back into the carriage.
"Yes, my lord. They’re almost done packing—just a little longer," Baji-hu replied.
It took about half an hour for the servants to finish. Soon, the group was back on the road.
The weather was pleasant—sunny and warm. Spring’s breath could already be felt in the air.
Saitama lay on the roof of the carriage, his sword by his side, feigning sleep.
Thanks to his chakra sensitivity, he could perceive fluctuations within several hundred ters—a trait often praised among sensor-type ninja. It allowed him to keep watch without moving his eyes. But the ability had its limits. If soone actively suppressed their chakra, Saitama couldn’t detect them.
Maybe as he grew stronger, he could refine this ability to sense even hidden enemies.
But for now, he couldn’t.
Snort
The horses neighed softly as the caravan ca to a river. The carriages halted while the servants went to refill their water supplies.
"Saitama?" Xiahu’s voice ca from inside the carriage.
"Yes, what is it?"
Saitama leapt down, landing near Baji-hu, who was holding the reins.
"Just wondering—do you know where we are? I’m unfamiliar with this area," Xiahu said.
Saitama frowned. He’d simply been following the caravan and hadn’t tracked the route closely.
"My lord, I have a map!" Baji-hu chid in helpfully, pulling a rolled hide from beneath his seat.
"Let see!"
"Of course."
Saitama leaned in as well, curious about their current location. He’d visited the capital before, but the places in between were a blur.
"We’re probably here," Xiahu pointed to a spot on the map with confidence. Even without ninja training, his sense of terrain was sharp.
"This river is called the Goddess River. Legend says the goddess of Uo passed through here long ago," Baji-hu explained. "The river’s nad after her and is fairly well-known in the region."
"Goddess of Uo? Like Kaguya-hi?" Saitama chuckled, intrigued.
"My lord, supplies are ready. We can move out," a servant reported respectfully.
"Good. Let’s go," Baji-hu called, snapping the reins.
"We’ve covered nearly a fifth of the journey already," Xiahu noted, patting his round cheek. "Not bad pace at all."
"Stick!"
Saitama flopped back onto the roof, continuing his silent watch.
The convoy resud its quiet march, the only noise coming from Baji-hu’s occasional hollering.
---
They soon entered a mountainous stretch. Low hills flanked both sides of the road, and the carriage rolled down the narrow path in the middle.
Saitama’s brows furrowed.
"Stop!" he said sharply to Baji-hu, already gripping his blade.
He had sensed multiple chakra signatures in the hills above—lurking figures on both sides.
The chakra wasn’t weak.
Whoever they were...
They weren’t here for friendly conversation.
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