After saying this, Arden's face twisted into an expression that was hard to read—halfway between a laugh and a sob.It seemed as if he both wished for his suspicion to be confirmed and dreaded that it might be true.
"It's exactly what you think," Rylan cut in coldly, shattering Arden's daydream.
"Huh? Ha! Hahahaha! Haha!!"Once he knew the truth, Arden threw his head back and laughed at the sky—an eerie, layered sound filled with clashing emotions.
When his laughter faded, he bared his teeth at Rylan."Heh! You truly are worthy of being the only disciple of the Third Kazekage. You've mastered the Iron Sand! I can't even call this an unfair loss—it's exactly as it should be!"
Rylan simply studied Arden's wild expression, then slowly shook his head."Do you think my master's Iron Sand could control weapons and puppets with such precision?"
Arden froze. He stared at Rylan, lips pressed tight, and then began laughing again—so hard that tears welled in his eyes.
Everyone on the dunes exchanged bewildered glances; no one had expected this.
A forty-year-old veteran who had survived two Great Ninja Wars, who had scavenged corpses on the battlefield at the age of five, who had endured countless brushes with death—reduced to tears in front of them.
As the saying went, Men do not cry easily. And yet here he was—laughing and weeping all at once.
After more than ten seconds of laughter, still wrapped tight in the sand cocoon, Arden could only blink rapidly to force away the tears.
When they were gone, his expression was a strange mix of wryness and awe."Oh, you brat! Yes, the Third could only command Iron Sand, but you—you can move blades and puppets as freely as breathing. You've surpassed the Third. You've even surpassed your own master! No wonder you were so confident!
"Heh… what crime did I commit in my last life? First, I'm overshadowed for decades, then I wait for him to die—only for someone even greater to appear in his place!"
The dozens of shinobi clustered near Rylan had heard every word.
They stood frozen for a beat, then broke into barely-contained joy.
A moment later, those on the sand dunes caught up to the exchange.
The reaction was the same: first shock, then rapture—some even shedding tears of relief.
The Sand Village had never been a village favored by fate.
Its shinobi often dreamed that one day someone would rise to save them—but the dream always dissolved come morning.
With the Third Kazekage's disappearance, they thought the end had come.
Yet here, before their eyes, stood a genius greater than the Third himself.
Seris gazed at Rylan with an almost adoring light in her eyes. Her lips parted, then curved into a smile."Hmph. Now that's more like it. You really are worthy of being my closest friend."
Yasha Lyn flung her arms around her sister Karura, practically hanging from her.
Karura's pale hand gently brushed through her sister's hair. Her eyes glistened as she looked at Rylan with a soft, knowing pride."I told you—Lord Rylan is the savior of the Sand Village! You just wouldn't believe me."
Levana planted her hands on her slim waist and tilted her head, scolding the Shadow Guard members nearby.
The masked guards glanced at each other, then turned toward Rylan in unison, their eyes—the only part of their faces visible—alight with excitement.
"Hu… hu… hu…"
Redmoon stared at Rylan, her breathing quick and shallow. Her full chest, straining against the layers of bindings, rose and fell rapidly.
She was so overwhelmed that her thoughts had gone completely blank.
Arden let out a long sigh before frowning in puzzlement."Then why didn't you use the Iron Sand from the start? You could have ended the fight instantly—and earned even greater respect."
Rylan smiled faintly, glancing up at the sky. He raised a hand to shade his eyes from the glare."The next Ninja World War is only a matter of time. When it comes, as Kazekage, I'll have to face the strongest warriors of other villages head-on.
"So I needed to know—how many moves it would take to defeat an elite jonin using only half my strength.
"As for respect? Beating you is all the proof anyone needs."
With a subtle flick of his fingers, the sand restraints binding Arden dissolved.
Arden didn't even bother flexing his numbed limbs—he simply stood, eyes narrowing as he studied Rylan properly for the first time.
Rylan met Arden's searching gaze without flinching, his expression calm and steady.
Arden realized with a start that the quiet, unremarkable youth he remembered had been replaced by someone different—someone whose eyes held depths he couldn't yet read.
He'd seen that look only twice before: once in the Second Kazekage, and once in the Third.
But unlike them, this young man's eyes held no shadow of doubt about the Sand Village's future.
"…Rylan, I take back everything I said. You are the one most fit to lead us in the coming war."
The tension in Arden's brow eased, replaced by a flicker of shame."I am far beneath you."
With that, he turned away, staring down at the sand as though mulling over something unspoken.
Time slipped by, both long and fleeting.
Then Arden steadied himself, faced Rylan once more, and dropped to one knee—his head bowing until his forehead pressed into the sand.
"Jonin Arden, at your service, Fourth Kazekage."
Rylan's face did not change; it was as if he had anticipated this.
Calmly, he regarded Arden's kneeling form, then placed his hands behind his back and turned his gaze toward the dunes.
The shinobi scattered across the sands had recovered from their shock.
One by one, they knelt, voices rising in solemn declaration:
"Jonin Seris, at your service, Fourth Kazekage!""Jonin Karura, at your service, Fourth Kazekage!""Jonin Redmoon, at your service, Fourth Kazekage!""Jonin Mizuon, at your service, Fourth Kazekage!"…"Chunin Yasha Lyn, at your service, Fourth Kazekage!""Chunin Rakuman…"…
Though not perfectly in unison, the firm voices rolled across the dunes, lingering like an oath carried on the wind.
Rylan drew in a deep breath, his nails digging into his palms behind his back to keep his emotions in check.
He was far from calm inside, but this was not the moment to show it.
He lifted his head toward the horizon. A light breeze swept past, sending the black folds of his cloak rippling.
"As long as I stand," he said, voice low but unshakable, "the Sand Village will never fall. And it will rise… greater than ever before."