"I'll accept this emerald," Raizen said, taking the gem in his hands. "Consider it a reward for escorting you safely to the city."
Khaki blinked. "Wait… a reward… for escorting me?"
"Yes. I didn't abandon this task. Don't worry, I'll get you there in one piece." Raizen's faint smirk carried the unshakable confidence of someone who'd survived far worse than greedy merchants.
Khaki hesitated, glancing nervously at the surrounding jungle. "Your Excellency… perhaps you should leave early. Once word spreads, many will come to snatch the treasure. I wouldn't blame you if you left now."
Raizen shook his head. "Relax. I have my own ways."
With that, he grabbed a handful of clay from his ninja bag, chewing briefly before spitting it out. Instantly, a massive clay bird appeared before him, flapping its wings. Two more lumps of clay formed into identical clay clones, hovering by his side.
"Climb up." Raizen gestured toward the giant bird.
Khaki's eyes widened, equal parts despair and awe. He had not expected such a young ninja to craft flying constructs. He clambered onto the bird, and the clay clone duplicated his weight, flapping wings to lift him safely into the sky.
"Don't come up," Raizen instructed, his real body remaining on the ground. "You'll draw attention. My clones will handle the distraction."
Khaki exhaled, impressed and a little embarrassed. "I see… I owe you, Master Ninja."
While one clone carried Khaki into the air, the other transformed into a doppelganger of Khaki, which Raizen placed into a carriage. Acting as the coachman, he guided the vehicle along the path. He could have flown straight to the city—there were no restrictions on his chakra—but the news of the treasure had spread. Rival ninja would be looking to snatch it. This was an opportunity to sharpen his skills. Win or lose, Raizen had escape routes, including his Flying Thunder God kunai.
"Move!" he yelled, cracking a whip against the horse. It bolted forward, kicking up dust as Raizen laughed into the wind. The city was still two days away, but at this pace, they would reach it without delay.
From the shadows of the jungle, a low voice called out. "How's it going?"
A middle-aged ninja with black hair stepped into view. Two younger ninjas—one with black hair, the other white—flanked him.
"The traces of battle are still fresh," the older ninja muttered. "They couldn't have gotten far."
"We'll catch up quickly," whispered the black-haired youth.
The middle-aged man—Yamashita-san—nodded and leapt into the treetops.
"Uncle Yamashita… why do we need this?" the black-haired boy asked, confusion furrowing his brow.
"Our clan grows stronger when we acquire something like that," Yamashita-san answered in a deep tone.
"But…"
The white-haired boy cut in sharply, "Brother, the clan is at war. If we seize this treasure, we can leverage the sprites to crush our enemies."
The black-haired boy sighed but nodded reluctantly. "Right… got it."
Meanwhile, Raizen's wagon reached a small creek. He slowed the horse, letting it drink from the clear water, and sat down by the bank to eat casually, radiating effortless calm.
Unseen, the three ninja followers paused nearby, watching him silently. Their patience paid off until, in unison, they whispered:
"Got you!"