ARTHUR WATCHED THE RETREATING figure of the Five-Tails. It wasn't long until it vanished into the shadows of the forest, leaving him alone in the night.
He paused for a moment to consider his achievement. In his grasp was the fur of the beast, a tangible sign that his mission was had progressed as he desired. His purpose in coming here had been clear from the start: to gather samples from the Tailed Beasts.
Three had been secured so far. Now at least one remained.
Rather than return to the congregation where Fujin's wrath was surely brewing, Arthur decided to press on. There was another place he needed to visit: the shrine where the 8-Tails was held.
Currently, he was in the Waterfall country. The memories he had taken from the fallen monk with the Sharingan told him that the shrine lay somewhere in the Lightning Country, hidden within the folds of the mountain range.
From those memories, he knew that if he was to reach the shrine, he would need to travel northeast—across the land that was not fully connected to the Lightning Country.
And so, he took to the skies as a cloud of smoke.
Two days of travel passed in relative silence. The landscape beneath him shifted from hills to what looked like the expanse of the Fire Country. From above, he observed that there was hardly any patterns of man's involvement in the land. There were also no real roads or settlements.
The Nine-Tails, he reasoned, might be in these parts, but he saw no immediate reason to seek it out. For now.
Around the third day of his journey, he spotted a settlement nestled in the mountains. It was small, almost like a village, but it looked fortified.
Deciding to descend, he touched down quietly among rocky ground. Then he entered into his Sage Mode to verify a few things. From what he sensed, there were indeed powerful monks here. Even the guards were different from those he had encountered before. They seemed to be using ninshu as opposed to ninjutsu than the monks of Fujin's congregation.
'Transformation jutsu…'
After releasing his Sage Mode, Arthur's body grew older and more rugged. He was still himself, just taller.
As he approached the gates, a man, dressed like a monk, blocked his way. His skin was lighter than those inside, indicating that the settlement was not solely populated by dark-skinned individuals.
"Halt," he commanded. "Whence dost thou come?"
"My brethren," Arthur began, "I am John, a traveler seeking refuge at thy settlement for a time."
The guard's brow furrowed, puzzled by the name. A stranger with such a peculiar name was unlikely to be from their land. Yet, Arthur did not appear suspicious; his demeanour was calm and his posture was respectful.
"Wait here," the man said. "I shall consult with my elders about thy request."
Minutes passed like hours. Arthur stood quietly behind the wooden walls. After thirteen minutes, the guard returned, flanked by two monks. Both were tall, their muscles visible beneath their robes, and veins prominent on their arms. Their hairs were also blond and braided neatly along their dark skin.
More importantly, Arthur recognized one of them. One of them was the same dark-skinned monk who had trained that ancestor of the Uchihas. And if that was the case, then this monk knew how to use Black Lightning.
They approached with cautious curiosity as one said, "John, it is a pleasure to meet thee."
"Likewise, friend…"
"Tis not daily we receive travelers round here. Thy name is also unfamiliar in these parts."
Arthur smiled politely and answered, "My name is from the holy bible. Have ye never heard of it in these lands?"
Clearly they had not. But the reason that Arthur revealed this truth was because he knew their senses for feeling out chakra was just as great as his. He also considered pulling out the makeshift bible he carried, the small book he'd shown Jada, but it had not ventured with in this timeline.
Instead, he explained plainly, "I am a servant of Jesus Christ."
When they heard this, they asked him to explain who Christ was. So Arthur did. Then their expressions softened, and one of them said, "This Jesus ye serve is truly an Almighty one. Thou must be a god among men."
Arthur humbled himself and said, "While indeed Jesus is Mighty, I am but His servant, a man like any other."
"Then what seekest thou here?"
"The monks from afar, nigh the shrine where the two-tailed beast is kept, are strong. I thought perchance thy monks be likewise, and I willed to learn from thee."
Hearing Arthur's honesty, their faces broke into smiles before softly laughing. The revelation pleased them because now they saw that he was no mere wanderer but someone who sought knowledge and strength.
"Come then, John," the first monk said, gesturing toward the settlement. "Thou art welcome here. We shall grant thee refuge for as long as thou pleaseth."
"Aye," the second agreed. "My name is B, and this is my brother, A. We are the leaders of the land."
Arthur's heart almost pounded. The names A and B were undoubtedly the same names as all the Raikage and majority of their partners. While he knew that he would encounter ancestors from the Lightning Country here, he hadn't expected anyone to be this closely to related those from his time period.
Truly, he was learning much more than he expected.
Soon after, Arthur followed the monks into the settlement. Their structure inside were filled with several smaller halls, each housing its own dojo. There were four in total, of which the main dojo was the largest and near the center of the congregation.
As he was led through, he saw that the monks within did not sit in quiet meditation, nor chant; they were fighting. The sound of flesh striking flesh and foot crashing against palm filled the space like a drumbeat. He paused to watch a few bouts. These monks were certainly different from the others. Their limbs were thicker and their movement sharper. There was also less reliance on chakra and more focus on form.
He considered something: if A and B were the leaders here, then those two monks would be worth fighting one day.
He continued following the monks quietly until the tour came to an end. Once the walk was over and most had dispersed to resume training or meditation, Arthur turned to A and B.
"Ye art unlike thy brethren from afar," he said. "Thy bodies do bear more than the mark of monks—they are arms wrought in war."
A and B exchanged a glance, and B laughed.
"Thou hast keen eyes," B said. "We prize not solely the mystic stream of chakra. Rather, we build our arms for the service of others."
"Aye," said A. "Power untempered is but tyranny. Yet power untested is mere pride. Our fists do not speak only of war, but of will."
Their words did not surprise Arthur at all. In truth, he had suspected as much. If these men were the ancestors of those who would one day walk the lands of Lightning Country, then it made sense. The Raikages themselves were known more for strength of arm than jutsu alone.
Once the sun sank, many of the monks gathered at a long table for the evening meal. Arthur sat among them. He did not ask strange questions nor make himself a subject of curiosity. He instead ate what was offered and complimented their technique without flattery.
This had greatly pleased the congregation.
By nightfall, he was given a room to rest in—a simple space made of wood and stone. A tiny mattress was situated in the corner alongside a basin of water. It was more than enough.
Arising by the light filtering through the small window of the inn, Arthur left his room to venture outside.
This congregation was a lot livelier than the rest. Yet the mornings were quite quiet.
Monks and residents moved around to do their chores. Some swept the dirt while others worked on repairing the walls or tending to the garden. Arthur barely watched them due to how straightforward their routines were compared to those from his time period.
No one seemed hurried or anxious; they all worked steadily.
Of course, this was also a great opportunity to make him seem harmless. So he decided to join in.
First, he helped carry water from the well. Next he helped a woman chop some wood. The monks nearby continued their work, paying little mind to him. Later, he helped prepare food by dicing up vegetable.
He didn't ask many questions; instead, he listened. Those around mainly talked about their training with hopes of serving this congregation fairly.
As noon approached, the monks sat down to eat. Arthur shared some of his bread and rice while eating in silence. The meal was plain but filling. No one pressed him too much about where he was from or why he was here. That just made things easier.
After eating, he took a walk in the courtyard. The only thing he felt like doing for the day was meditate alone. So he did just that.
When afternoon came, he spent it helping with chores. They were basic ones: fetching water, sweeping the trails, and helping with repairs.
Sometimes a monk would come over and ask him questions about his journey or his training. Arthur answered politely without revealing too much. The monks didn't push him too much since they sensed he was serious and here just to grow.
As evening fell, things grew quieter. From he'd understood, A and B spent most of their time in the main dojo, likely training. And once it got around this time, they gathered around a small fire outside the main dojo with the other monks.
Arthur hadn't joined them, opting to sleep early because tomorrow he would make his move.
The next morning, he made his way to the main dojo. It was early, but already the air rang with the sound of fists and feet. On the sides were lesser monks running their routine drills. In the center of the room stood A and B, and they were sparring.
Bang-bang-boom!
Their massive bodies moved like flowing stone, and each strike sounded like boulders smashing against each other. Arthur noted their discipline. Even for him, to wound them would require effort.
As he stepped through the doors, B saw him and gave a brief nod.
"Welcome, John!"
A did not stop. His elbow struck B's side hard enough to send him back two steps.
"Focus, ye simpleton!"
B chuckled and rubbed his ribs. "Forgive me, brother."
Before the match could resume, Arthur asked, "Mightest I test mine strength against thee both?"
A's brow furrowed. "Art thou mad?"
"I mean no insult," Arthur responded. "I seek not glory but growth. If strength lies in thy fists, then mine seek to meet them."
"He speaketh bold," B grinned.
But A's gaze did not soften. "B, dost thou forget the path? There are others yet to face. Each dojo holdeth its champions. Wouldst thou let a stranger skip the climb and leap to the peak?"
What A was basically saying was that their congregation had a rule when it came to fighting at the dojos. To let Arthur, a foreigner, break that rule was considered disrespectful.
"My apologies, brother," B said. "I hath almost forgotten about the path."
"Then point the path," Arthur obliged, "I shall take it."
"Each of the dojos house six warriors above the rest," A said. "To face us, thou must best them all. Take a day, a week, a month if thou must."
"Why not I face them at once?"
The room went still for a moment until B clapped his hands together and said "Tis what I like to heareth!"
Whispers began to stir among the monks. Many paused in their drills to turn toward the center. In all their years, never had a stranger dared such a thing on only their third day. Even among them, none had faced the top of all three dojos at once.
A was intrigued; he knew that Arthur was strong to a certain extent, and now he desired to see just how strong. "So be it. Thy challenge shall be granted."