Konoha Year 47, January 24.
Early morning.
The sky had yet to fully brighten. A thick layer of gray clouds hung low, and every breath people exhaled condensed into white mist that lingered in the air.
In front of Konoha's main gate, several hundred-man units were assembling.
Shinichi stood at the very front of one of those units.
According to Konoha's usual practice, a newly promoted jōnin would not be qualified to command a force of a hundred. Positions like that were typically reserved for veteran jōnin with deep experience in command and battlefield adaptation.
And yet, Shinichi stood here.
That alone meant Konoha's higher-ups had already regarded him, from the very beginning, as a veteran jōnin.
No one questioned it.
The older, more experienced shinobi in the unit looked at him with nothing but calm trust. Many of them had just rotated back from the southwestern front—they had witnessed firsthand this young man's performance on the battlefield.
"Captain Shinichi." A capable-looking jōnin in his thirties, with a scar across his face, stepped forward and reported, "Fourth Battalion—one hundred assigned, one hundred present. Equipment check complete. All personnel in good condition. Ready to depart at any time."
Shinichi looked at him and nodded. "Good work, Ueno-senpai. Return to your position and await departure orders."
"Yes!" The jōnin named Ueno turned sharply and returned to his place in formation.
At that moment, a figure approached from the front.
It was the commander of this five-hundred-man reinforcement force—Konoha's renowned genjutsu expert, elite jōnin Yūhi Shinku.
"Shinichi, how is the Fourth Battalion's readiness?"
"Fully prepared, senpai," Shinichi replied.
Shinku gave him a brief look, said nothing further, and simply nodded. Then he turned to face everyone, took a deep breath, and shouted: "All units—move out!"
The moment his voice fell, five hundred figures burst into motion, vanishing into streaks of afterimages.
A cold wind howled past, sweeping up the snow left on the ground.
In front of Konoha's gate, only an empty stretch of snow remained, along with distant black dots fading into the horizon.
...
"According to the village's orders and the planned marching route—"
As they sped forward, Shinku's steady voice carried clearly to Shinichi, who ran beside him.
As the overall commander, he needed to ensure that this young battalion commander—who also served as his deputy—understood the entire plan.
"We will travel at full speed for one day. By around noon tomorrow, we will arrive at the Fire Temple. There, we will rendezvous with the monk-shinobi forces personally led by the temple's abbot, Master Tenmei. After that, the two forces will merge and proceed together to the northeastern border to reinforce the main front where Orochimaru-sama is stationed."
"Understood, senpai."
Shinichi nodded.
In the shinobi world—especially during full-scale wars between great nations—it was never just the hidden villages under the Kage that fought. The entire war machine of a country would be mobilized.
In the Land of Fire, Konohagakure was the core military power and the center of shinobi forces. The Hokage also served as the nominal supreme military commander of the nation.
In wartime, the Hokage had the authority to requisition all forces within the Land of Fire—local noble clans under the Daimyō, independent shinobi groups, and even special religious military organizations like the Fire Temple—to cooperate in combat.
Previously, on the southwestern front against Sunagakure, Konoha had not conducted large-scale conscription of these regional forces.
But this time, against Kumogakure—they had.
And the first to be mobilized, with even the abbot personally leading the troops, was the Fire Temple.
The Fire Temple had a long history within the Land of Fire and held an extraordinary status. It was not merely a prosperous religious sanctuary—it was also a militarized organization with a large number of monk-shinobi.
In terms of overall strength and influence within the Land of Fire, it ranked second only to Konohagakure. It was undoubtedly the second-largest military force in the country.
This alone showed that Konoha's leadership regarded Kumogakure as a far greater threat than Sunagakure.
...
The Fire Temple…
My new profession entry… it might come from there.
Shinichi's thoughts moved rapidly as fragments of information about the temple flashed through his mind.
No one could say exactly how long this ancient temple had existed.
It was only known that it seemed to have already been there when shinobi first emerged.
Its existence was as ancient as the Senju, the Uchiha, and the Hyūga—those great clans that had endured for centuries, even millennia, witnessing the evolution of the shinobi world.
Perhaps… it was even older. Even more mysterious.
If the "Monk" profession truly existed as he had speculated—a path independent from the shinobi system, with its own complete supernatural inheritance—
Then the Fire Temple was the most likely place in the current shinobi world where that profession entry could be formally recognized and generated.
No rush. One step at a time.
Shinichi withdrew his thoughts and continued forward at full speed, the cold wind battering his face—yet he felt nothing.
...
The next day, around noon.
Fire Temple.
Winter sunlight poured down, coating the ancient temple in a faint golden hue.
The massive bronze gate stood tall, its surface worn and mottled under the light. On either side of the entrance stood two towering bronze statues facing one another.
Beyond the gate lay a wide plaza, where three hundred monk-shinobi had already assembled.
They wore white monk robes underneath and purple-black outer garments, the hem embroidered with a bold "Fire" character. Each of them held a black staff nearly as tall as themselves.
...
Main Hall.
Inside, incense smoke curled through the air.
The abbot of the Fire Temple, Master Tenmei, was a man of average height in his early forties.
He sat facing Shinku, several documents spread out before them as they quietly discussed handover procedures—confirming marching formations, supply transfers, communication methods, and other logistical details.
Shinichi stood to the side, not participating in the discussion.
His gaze was fixed on the golden statue at the center of the hall.
The statue was immense, its entire body gilded, radiating a soft, warm glow beneath the shifting light.
It sat in a meditative posture, one hand resting calmly while the other extended downward in a gesture of quiet authority.
Its expression was compassionate yet solemn, its eyelids lowered, as if gazing down upon all living beings, and yet also as if contemplating some eternal, unchanging truth.
Shinichi watched quietly.
At that moment, a gentle voice sounded.
"Higashino-jōnin, you seem rather interested in our Enlightened One?"
Shinichi withdrew his gaze and turned his head.
At some point, Abbot Tenmei and Shinku had already finished their discussion. The abbot of the Fire Temple now stood not far away, looking at him with a faint smile.
"Master Tenmei."
Shinichi gave a slight bow, then nodded. "Rather than being moved, it would be more accurate to say I am curious."
"Oh? And what is Higashino-jōnin curious about? Perhaps this old monk can resolve a thing or two for you." Tenmei's smile remained unchanged.
Shinichi glanced at the enormous golden statue, then looked back at Tenmei and continued, "I once heard that the origin of us shinobi—the one revered as the ancestor of ninja, the Sage of Six Paths—had once been a monk who wandered the world, observed the suffering of all beings, and sought a path to save them before he founded Ninshū and spread the practice of chakra."
"There is indeed such an ancient legend in the shinobi world."
Tenmei nodded. "Because of this, even to this day, among certain temples and believers, there are those who revere the Sage of Six Paths as an enlightened figure. They commemorate his deeds of spreading chakra and pacifying the chaotic age, enshrining statues of him and regarding him as a guardian deity of our faith."
"Exactly so," Shinichi said, picking up the thread. "If one thinks about it, between shinobi and monks, there seem to have been countless threads of connection from the very beginning. So, in my spare time, I have also read some scriptures. Though I would not claim deep understanding, it has nevertheless given rise to a question that I cannot quite resolve."
At this point, he looked at Tenmei, whose smile had not changed, and voiced the doubt that had lingered in his mind for a long time.
"Master Tenmei, I would like to ask—who exactly is the Enlightened One? What is his true origin? Across various texts and legends, I have seen many accounts of his deeds, forms, and teachings. His wisdom is boundless, his compassion immeasurable, and he shows all living beings the path out of suffering."
"Yet, after consulting numerous texts, I noticed something interesting. Almost all of them speak of what he did, what he said, what his teachings are, and what he symbolizes—but they rarely mention, or perhaps deliberately avoid, his original name, his origins, his background, or even who he was before attaining enlightenment."
Upon hearing this, Tenmei fell silent.
Only after a long while did he slowly speak.
"Higashino-jōnin… your mind is indeed keen. You have gone straight to the core."
He paused, his gaze also turning toward the great golden statue, before continuing.
"As for who exactly our Enlightened One is, what his name was, and where he came from—this old monk does not know either."
"I only know that the era in which he existed predates even the Sage of Six Paths, who is said to have founded Ninshū. It is so distant that what the world looked like at that time, how people lived, and in what form power manifested—all of it has long since been buried in the river of time, with no trace left to follow."
"His name may have been lost, and his origins may no longer be known. But names fade, forms change, and the body does not last. What endures are the teachings he left behind—the truths he passed on, and the path he showed to others through suffering—everything we, his disciples, continue to uphold and carry forward in accordance with his teachings."
"Therefore, he exists within the hearts of us disciples. He is renewed and carried on in every act of walking the right path, practicing compassion, and dispelling ignorance. What his name was, or what his origins were, is no longer so important. What matters are the teachings and principles he passed down."
"Master, I have been presumptuous." Shinichi gave a slight bow.
"That is not the case."
Tenmei shook his head as he looked at him, then smiled faintly.
"Higashino-jōnin, you have asked a very good question—and a very difficult one. It is also the fundamental question that those who follow this path must face, explore, and pass down through generations. Perhaps, the very act of seeking the true traces of the Enlightened One is itself a form of practice."
At this point, Tenmei turned his gaze toward the golden statue in the main hall. After a moment, he withdrew it, brought his palms together, and gave a slight nod to Shinku and Shinichi.
"It is getting late. The situation on the northeastern front is urgent—we cannot delay. Yūhi-jōnin, Higashino-jōnin, let us depart at once."
With that, the three of them walked toward the hall's exit.
However, just as he reached the doorway, Tenmei could not help but turn back once more to look at the golden statue at the center of the hall, recalling the young man's question that had struck straight at the core.
Who exactly is the Enlightened One?
What is his true origin?
Did he truly ever exist?
Could it be that the Enlightened One is merely an ideal shaped, refined, and perfected over generations by living beings—through imagination and faith—amid endless suffering and darkness?
Do the teachings and principles passed down by the Enlightened One truly have a source—originating from the direct realization and teachings of some great sage of ancient times?
Or do they instead arise from humanity's innate yearning for goodness and order—formed over long ages through the thoughts, debates, and practices of countless sages, and ultimately attributed to a single supreme and sacred name, when in fact they are the collective crystallization of all human wisdom?
If the Enlightened One has no name, no trace, if he is fundamentally unreal—then what exactly is it that we disciples have worshipped, pursued, and relied upon for centuries?
These questions had no answers.
Perhaps they would never have answers.
Enlightened One… what is it that this disciple…
For a moment, immense confusion rose within Tenmei's heart—along with a trace of fear.
At the side, Shinichi observed all of this without revealing anything.
Confused?
At a loss?
You just want a concrete Enlightened One, don't you?
Then when the time comes… I'll give you one.
An Enlightened One.
Shinichi's thoughts flashed like lightning, and a faint smile curved at the corner of his lips.
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