Chapter 34: Valley of the End
The valley stretched endlessly into the sky and plunged just as deeply into the earth. Towering cliffs loomed above, and a roaring waterfall crashed down from the heavens like a tidal wave, its violent descent disrupting the current of the river below.
Outside the Hidden Leaf Village, in the legendary Valley of the End, Ryosuke stood on the surface of the churning waters, his two guards—Hyuga Souji and Hyuga Hoshicai—flanking him on either side. All three stared silently at the colossal stone statues standing at opposite sides of the waterfall.
Senju Hashirama.
Uchiha Madara.
Two names etched into the history of the ninja world.
The valley was deep—so deep that looking up from where they stood, it felt like being trapped in a bottomless abyss. Darkness clung to the canyon walls, swallowing all light except the faint shimmer from the waterfall.
The statues carved into the stone cliffs were incredibly lifelike, each detail chiseled with reverence and precision. Rain and time hadn't diminished their presence. Their faces reached into the clouds, gazes locked as if the battle between them had never truly ended.
Even in stone, their postures held conviction—two men who had refused to abandon their ideals to the bitter end. Frozen in time, their final clash had been immortalized in stone, as if they were still debating whose vision was right.
"No matter how many times I see this place… it's always overwhelming," Souji said quietly, his eyes full of awe.
Behind Ryosuke, the Hyuga elder stood with his arms crossed. "Master Ryosuke, you may not know this, but during our Academy days, we often came here on school trips."
He gave a dry chuckle. "And every time, the Uchiha in our class would walk away more arrogant than before."
Hoshicai smiled wryly and joined in. "It's kind of ironic, isn't it? The whole Uchiha clan turned their backs on Madara and supported Hashirama's ideals. Yet now, generations later, they act like they've inherited Madara's honor."
Souji nodded thoughtfully. "If Madara had become Hokage back then… maybe the world wouldn't have seen peace at all. Maybe it would've just been endless war."
The two exchanged views as they continued reminiscing, their conversation light but thoughtful.
Ryosuke remained silent, listening to their words while observing the lingering scars of that legendary battle.
High on the rock walls were blackened scorch marks—remnants of Madara's Fire Style jutsu. In other places, massive craters marked the power of Hashirama's Wood Release, shaped by the fists and palms of his True Thousand Hands or the Top Transformed Buddha technique.
Even the valley itself—the enormous canyon split into the land—was the direct result of their battle.
Is this... really the kind of destruction two shinobi can cause?
Ryosuke slowly reached out, his fingers brushing against the pitted stone. His expression was blank, but his hands trembled slightly.
So many years had passed, yet the traces remained. The sheer scale of the fight had literally changed the landscape. It made Ryosuke feel small—and inspired.
It was like he had spent years studying the basics of cultivation, content with his growth. Then, all of a sudden, he stumbled across the remnants of a god-level cultivator's battle, one that opened his eyes to an entirely new realm.
This path had already been walked.
And it was far greater than he'd ever imagined.
His past spars with Hyuga Hiashi had once felt like the pinnacle of shinobi strength—battles that had far surpassed the limits of ordinary humans. But standing here, in this sacred valley, Ryosuke finally understood what true power was.
His heart thundered with excitement. But on the outside, he was calm.
Ryosuke's blank expression was his most relaxed state—but paradoxically, also when he was at his most excited. A faint smile, by contrast, usually meant he was on high alert.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steadying the emotions roiling within.
Then he exhaled slowly. When he opened his eyes again, the excitement was gone—replaced by cold clarity and quiet resolve.
"Souji, Hoshicai," he said softly, "it's time to go."
His voice was calm, his steps steady as he turned from the canyon and began walking away.
Now that they had reached the Valley of the End, which sat at the edge of Konoha's territory, it meant only one thing.
He could finally leave the village.
For the first time in five years, Ryosuke was stepping beyond the walls of the Leaf to experience the world of shinobi for himself.
The opportunity for real combat had arrived.
To Hiashi Hyuga, Ryosuke held a position even higher than that of his own kin. But despite recognizing Ryosuke's immense talent, Hiashi had always restricted him from taking missions. In part, because there were so few opportunities… but also, because he was reluctant to let him go.
Hiashi could no longer teach him anything, but he wasn't ready to let him face danger either.
Now, that had changed.
This mission was to visit the Daimyo of the Land of Fire, a ceremonial tradition upheld by the Hyuga clan every year. Normally, the task would be carried out by branch family members.
But this time, Hiashi had assigned the task to Ryosuke, along with a minor escort mission on the side—just enough to let him gain some experience beyond the village walls.
You can't stay in one place forever, Ryosuke thought. A frog trapped in a well will never see the ocean.
The Hyuga clan considered the visit to the daimyo a matter of pride and tradition. However, the word "daimyo" didn't hold much weight in Ryosuke's mind.
In the Naruto storyline, daimyos rarely appeared or had any significant presence. They were background characters at best.
But this world wasn't a comic. This was the real ninja world.
Here, things were different.
If Ryosuke wanted to survive, he couldn't underestimate the daimyos or the nobles—no matter how powerless they seemed. They might not possess chakra or battle prowess, but they had influence. A different kind of power.
The power of people's hearts.
Was the world's population large?
Compared to Earth in his previous life, not really.
But were there a lot of shinobi?
Yes. After all, this was a world where shinobi reigned supreme.
Still, the vast majority of people were ordinary civilians. Only a small fraction had the talent or opportunity to become ninja.
Ryosuke had expected the numbers to skew heavily toward non-shinobi. What he hadn't expected was that the ones in power—the daimyos and nobles—were those same ordinary people.
He had thought they were mere figureheads. Puppets who helped the shinobi manage the commoners.
But no.
In truth, they were the ones pulling the strings.
They were the ones holding the real power.
They didn't fight with jutsu or blades, but they ruled entire countries.
That revelation shifted something in Ryosuke.
If he wanted to rise in this world, he couldn't just look up to powerful ninjas.
He had to understand the ones in the shadows, too.
The ones who ruled without ever lifting a finger.
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