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"Your Majesty, the attackers have been completely eliminated." Qin Lin walked back and reported softly.
"Mm, continue resting." Qin Yi remained seated cross-legged by the bonfire, his expression calm and unchanged, as if he had already foreseen this outcome.
Yang Yi had awakened Hyōton (Ice Release) the day after Qin Lin, which had been quite the blow to Qin Yi at the time.
These three old men, after making breakthroughs, had a habit of showing off, ensuring the entire village knew about their newfound abilities.
"One with magma, one with ice."
With that thought, Qin Yi's gaze shifted to Fang Lan.
"This one won't awaken Light Release, will he?"
A sudden chill ran down his spine. Was his nation going to end up with its own version of the Three Admirals?
Fortunately, Fang Lan showed no signs of awakening a Kekkei Genkai (Bloodline Limit), making him the only normal one among the three.
Meanwhile, the Konoha Shinobi team led by Suna was filled with unease.
Three Jōnin, one Kage, and two of those Jōnin possessed Bloodline Limits! What kind of nation was the Kingdom of Qin?
Three hours later, Qin Yi led the group onward.
Fortunately, the rest of the journey was uneventful.
However, along the way, they encountered many refugees, their eyes hollow, wandering aimlessly.
Seeing this, the group's expressions turned grim, though they did not engage with the refugees. As they passed, Qin Yi spoke softly.
"Follow the coastline, and you'll find a country called the Kingdom of Qin. They are accepting refugees."
"Believe me, it should be a good place for you."
The refugees stood in stunned silence, about to ask questions, but by the time they reacted, Qin Yi and his group had already moved past them.
Suna's lips parted slightly, but in the end, he said nothing.
He wanted to advise Qin Yi. The five great Shinobi villages had only recently been established, and the Sengoku (Warring States) era had barely ended. Refugees made up the largest displaced population, yet the major nations had chosen stability over compassion.
No one had considered absorbing them— it was simply unrealistic. The Kingdom of Qin was still in its infancy, and if they attempted to take in so many refugees, they would be overwhelmed before long.
Without resources or supplies, how would their own citizens survive?
As they traveled toward the Land of Iron, the sight of refugees became more frequent— clusters of people appearing at regular intervals. Occasionally, they encountered those who had collapsed and perished along the road, a tragic and haunting scene.
"These are the remnants of people whose homes and villages were destroyed during the Sengoku era."
"Their numbers are vast, and no nation dares to take them in," Suna spoke through gritted teeth.
Qin Yi remained silent, his gaze fixed on the hollow-eyed figures in ragged clothes, their bodies frail and broken, as they wandered without purpose, waiting for death.
He was not a saint, nor did he consider himself a savior. As the king of a nation, he had never been one to let emotions dictate his decisions.
Yet, at this moment, something within him stirred— a complex mix of sympathy and contemplation.
He saw them.
A woman, so weak with hunger that her legs trembled, yet still cradling her child tightly, shielding him from harm with what little strength she had left.
A man in his thirties, gripping a dirty short knife, calmly slicing flesh from his own thigh, roasting it over a fire to feed his teenage son, who lay delirious from starvation.
A couple, emitting a foul stench, sat embracing each other, their eyes locked on one another.
This was hell— filled with despair. Yet, as Qin Yi took in the scene, his heart was deeply moved, and he felt a lump rise in his throat.
Even in the depths of suffering, the power of life endured.
This power was called love, called self-sacrifice, and it was stronger than any force in existence.
At that moment, Qin Yi grasped the essence of this Otherworld. He understood the foundation of Senju Hashirama's ideals, the burden Uchiha Madara carried, and the reason why future generations would endlessly speak of stability and peace.
War bred tragedy. People from different factions fostered hatred. True peace remained elusive, and refugees would always exist.
They all wished to end this suffering, but even the greatest among them— the so-called gods of the Shinobi world— struggled against its tide.
The most they could do was protect those dear to them and carve out small havens of peace amidst the chaos.
The world was vast, far beyond their reach at this moment.
"So, should we just let them wander this world, waiting for death?" Qin Yi's voice suddenly cut through the silence, a cold smile forming on his lips.
Even Konoha, the village that prided itself on love and peace, dared not accept these lost souls? Within the five great nations, life was paradise, yet beyond their borders, it was nothing short of hell.
Heaven and hell were indeed separated by only a thin line!
"Qin Lin." He called out softly.
Without hesitation, Qin Lin understood his king's intent. Rising to his feet, he strode toward the refugees.
Once more, he relayed the message they had shared with others before.
"What the five great nations refuse to take in, my Kingdom of Qin shall welcome!" Qin Yi declared indifferently.
Suna trembled, his entire body stiff, while the three Chunin behind him exchanged disbelieving glances.
With nothing more to say, Qin Yi took the lead and continued onward.
Along their journey, every group of refugees they encountered was informed of the same message. One by one, desperate souls turned their weary steps toward the Kingdom of Qin.
Even if they were resigned to despair, the instinct to survive rekindled a spark of hope.
Even if this promise was a deception, what did it matter? Life had always been cruel.
Those who no longer feared death had no reason to fear deception either.
On the sixth day after departing from the Kingdom of Qin, Qin Yi and his group arrived at the Land of Iron.
Unlike the five great nations, the Land of Iron had maintained its neutrality, allowing it to remain unscathed by war. Their warriors were not Shinobi, yet their armor and combat techniques bore a striking resemblance to the martial traditions of Qin's own forces.
The Land of Iron was the only nation that relied solely on the way of the sword, and its swordsmen were every bit as formidable as Shinobi.
After relaying their purpose to the guards, Qin Yi and his companions were escorted to their lodgings.
"Lord Qin Kage, I must report to Hokage Sama immediately. Please forgive me for not being able to accompany you further."
Upon reaching their quarters, Suna bowed respectfully before taking his leave.
"Hashirama has already arrived?" Qin Yi smiled knowingly.
"Yes, Lord Hashirama arrived yesterday," Suna replied with newfound reverence.
At this moment, there was no trace of doubt or disdain in his demeanor— only admiration. Qin Yi was merely a seventeen-year-old youth, yet in the past few days, he had demonstrated strength, wisdom, and charisma beyond his years.
The refugees were not just scattered wanderers; if gathered, their numbers could form the foundation of an entire nation. Even the five great nations hesitated to shoulder such a burden.
Yet this seventeen-year-old king had chosen to do so without hesitation.
"Then I shall accompany you to meet Hashirama." Qin Yi rose to his feet, leaving Suna momentarily stunned.
(End of this chapter)