We ran with the logistics shinobis. Carrying supplies and scrolls. Yeah. Village didn't deploy genin for war. We were just mules to carry the food and weapons. But I was still grateful. I would get to see the remains of the legendary village from where the legacy of our MC Naruto started.
We ran fast and hard, barely resting. Maybe the Jonins and chunins had an easier time, but we were rushing, no doubt about it. But as expected. We were late.
We reached right after the forces had finished the massacre. Right in time for our shinobis under Tsunade to drive off the forces and secure the loot of Fuinjutsu legacy for Konoha. We set up camp on the ruins of the once great village. The more loyal and proven shinobis took care of securing the clan's legacies. While the rest of us managed the survivors. There were no clan members, of course. But there were a lot of civilians. Some of whom we planned to take back to the land of fire.
It was population poaching, nothing more. People were also a resource, and the bountiful homeland always needed more servants and workers. They weren't going to Konoha but to the Daimyo and the likes. Konoha won't risk spies unless the situation is truly dire, like during the war.
That's when I heard it. That sweet chime of the system.
System Quest Issued.
Quest - The pursuit of call.
Change the fate of the forgotten.
LEGEND - Undetermined
Reward - Potential increase in the path of the call.
Time limit - 1 hour
Quest - The pursuit of power.
Secure the world fragment for yourself.
Reward - Evolution of Chakra Refinement Technique.
(All present SS will be consumed)
Bingo. Bingo. Bingo. I had finally triggered something. The first quest had a map. Which led me directly to the center of the clan's remains. Which was populated by my seniors sorting loot. So basically, the system wanted one of the Uzumaki treasures. Makes sense. They did do a lot of otherworldly stuff like dealing with gods, demons, and other realms. But the second one was much more potent.
I didn't know what it was, but I was sure it was important. Anything related to the weird call was. And moreover, LEGEND? The payout had legend points? Sign me up.
I had just gotten off work. So I ran towards the location marked on the map. I passed by teams doing a systematic search for survivors. The hope was grim, but they did it anyway. I passed them by and ran. If they sensed me, they ignored me or saw my headband and marked me a friendly.
You would be surprised at how less people question you when you are moving with purpose and direction. I just realized that the path was longer than I initially thought. I had been running for almost a quarter hour now.
Time left 14:37.
I was at least fifteen minutes away from the nearest Konoha patrol. By the time I reached the location, I had ten minutes to spare. The place was the middle of nowhere — a stretch of forest so quiet it felt like even the wind was holding its breath.
I scanned my surroundings carefully, looking for anything unusual. Branches snapped, disturbed leaves, signs of struggle — nothing. Yet instinct told me something was wrong. I activated Lightning Sense, letting the subtle currents of chakra guide me. That's when I felt it: a faint, flickering pulse of life.
There, huddled beside a gnarled tree, was a little boy. Fiery red, with a torso matted with blood, his body trembling. A kunai lay discarded a few feet away, its tip still glinting in the weak light.
Everything clicked instantly. A survivor. By the time the standard rescue squads scoured this area, he would be counted among the dead — another casualty of the Uzumaki tragedy, forgotten in the chaos. And I had triggered the quest because of my medical training.
He must have fallen asleep from exhaustion, the kunai still embedded in him. When he awoke, perhaps in panic, he'd pulled it out himself. A fatal mistake. Medical operators know not to remove embedded weapons unless the doctor is present. Doing so only accelerates bleeding. Yet here he was, alive, but on the brink.
The boy's eyes met mine — wide, round, filled with raw terror. His chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven gasps. Every instinct in me screamed to act. I couldn't let him become another forgotten name, another tragedy.
At first, the boy recoiled. His eyes widened even further, and he shrank back against the tree trunk, clutching his side where the blood had soaked through his clothes. Every movement he made seemed to make the bleeding worse, and he trembled violently. "D-Don't… don't touch me!" he stammered, his voice barely a whisper.
I froze for a moment. Calm, measured movements — that's what I needed. Any sudden motion would only frighten him further. Slowly, I lowered myself to his level, letting my hands remain visible. "I'm not going to hurt you," I said softly, letting the words carry both reassurance and authority. "I just want to help. Please… I can make it stop."
He flinched at every word, but the pain and exhaustion seemed to be winning over his fear. His trembling slowed slightly as I assessed the wound. The kunai had grazed a major artery, and he had lost a dangerous amount of blood. I had to act fast. "I am from Konoha." I gestured at my headband. "We're allies of your village." I coaxed, but he didn't seem to listen.
I grabbed my medical supplies and began applying pressure to the wound, all while talking to him in a quiet, steady voice. "I need you to stay still, okay? It'll hurt for a moment, but I'll keep you safe." Each second felt like a lifetime as I worked against his panic and the relentless flow of blood.
He whimpered and tried to pull away once, forcing me to gently pin him down. My heart pounded, not just from the urgency of the situation but from the knowledge that if I faltered even slightly, he wouldn't make it. Sweat dripped into my eyes as I maintained pressure and started using the Mystical palm jutsu. I cleaned the wound and wrapped it with a bandage. The forest around us seemed to fade; only his shallow breaths and the slick of blood beneath my hands existed.
I had treated patients only once or twice before. And they were shallow cuts on limbs. Nothing this serious.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the bleeding slowed. His pulse steadied enough that I could carefully lift him. He stiffened at first, fear still evident in his wide eyes, but I murmured, "I've got you. Just hang on, we're going back. You're safe now." I cradled him as gently as I could, feeling the small, frail weight of his body and the lingering weakness from blood loss.
Each step back toward the village was a cautious negotiation — careful to avoid jostling him, careful not to let him panic. I could feel the lingering warmth of his fear, but also a fragile trust beginning to form.
By the time the first familiar outlines of the patrol post came into view, he had fallen unconscious. He had lost too much blood and sustained too much damage. Not fully safe, but alive — and for now, that was enough.