Seeing Peter nod slightly, Sarutobi Hiruzen's heart surged with sudden hope. A glimmer of life returned to his weary eyes, and his voice grew urgent, almost frantic.
"Young man, everything I said just now is true! Please… I beg you. Can you take me back to Konoha Village? If you are willing to escort me home, I will make sure you receive a reward that is more than generous."
His tone trembled with desperation, yet his words were sincere.
For the once-proud Third Hokage, dignity had long since been stripped away. After suffering humiliation and inhuman tortures, honesty had become his last refuge.
Compared to those endless nights of torment, the mockery and slander of Konoha's people seem almost merciful, Hiruzen thought bitterly. At least words cannot flay the flesh from my bones. A thousand insults won't cost me a limb… but Sunagakure already cost me an entire arm!
He glanced down at the empty sleeve hanging limply by his side. His chest tightened, the phantom ache gnawing at him as if the severed arm still cried out. His body bore scars beyond counting, yet what weighed on him more was the fear of being left behind again—alone, in this barren desert where the wind howled like the whispers of death itself.
If he did not escape soon, the sands would swallow him whole.
---
Peter listened silently. His sharp brows furrowed slightly as he scratched the back of his head. He looked almost embarrassed, though his tone was calm and firm.
"Old man… I understand your situation. But there's a problem."
Hiruzen's chest tightened at those words.
Peter continued slowly, "I'm headed to Sunagakure myself. I've got business there. That means… I don't really have the time to take you all the way back to Konoha."
The elder's breath hitched. His eyes widened, the faint spark of hope that had just returned now flickering violently. His heart plummeted as if struck by a hammer.
He had bared his soul, begged, and pleaded—only to be denied.
---
For a moment, Sarutobi Hiruzen felt his world collapse.
So it was all for nothing?
He had spoken until his lips were dry, until his voice cracked, trying desperately to sway this young man. And yet, in the end, he remained stranded.
His body trembled faintly. A heaviness settled on his shoulders, crushing his already broken spirit.
A hollow laugh echoed in his mind. Is this it? After all my struggles, am I destined to die here in the Kingdom of Wind, forgotten by all?
He closed his eyes slowly, his frail body sinking further into the sand as though he had accepted his grave. His heart filled with despair, a bottomless void swallowing what little hope remained.
---
Memories surged in his mind like fragments of a fading dream. He recalled his years of power, his reign as Hokage, the faces of comrades long gone. But alongside pride came regret—sharp and bitter as venom.
If I had to name my greatest mistakes… he thought, tears welling unconsciously.
The first was failing to truly stand with Danzō. If only he had joined forces fully, if only they had eradicated the Uchiha together without hesitation, then perhaps the later chaos would never have been born.
The second… ah, that shameful obsession. His wretched weakness for peeking into the women's bathhouse through the crystal ball. That damned Black Zetsu had caught everything—every shameful scene recorded as evidence. The humiliation still burned his soul. To silence the scandal, he had been forced to extort hush money from the clans, drowning in corruption until he was stripped of the Hokage seat.
The third regret cut deepest. Trusting Black Zetsu's honeyed words. He had joined that dark-hearted company, blind to its moral corruption, and in the end, it had chewed him up and spat him out. Now he was here, cheated and broken, his life hanging by a thread.
The old man's chest rose and fell unsteadily. His eyes glistened. Tears finally slipped free, tracing the wrinkles on his weathered cheeks.
Perhaps death was not the enemy, after all. Perhaps eternal rest, buried beneath the golden sands, was a kind of release.
Yes, he thought, a strange calmness seeping in. Maybe… death is not so frightening. Maybe… it is peace.
---
Just as he closed his eyes, prepared to surrender to the silence of death, Peter's voice thundered unexpectedly, shattering his resignation.
"Although I can't escort you personally, I know some medicine. I can heal your injuries. With that, you'll have the strength to return on your own."
The words struck like a bolt of lightning. Hiruzen's eyes snapped open, disbelief and raw hope flooding into them.
"Young man… are you serious?!" His voice shook violently, desperate. "You… you're a medical shinobi?"
His heart pounded wildly in his chest.
There's still a chance… still a chance to live!
Though he had steeled himself for death, it was only because no path remained open. Who among the living truly welcomes the grave? He was only in his sixties—by shinobi standards, still a man who could cling to another decade of life, perhaps more.
How could he go meekly to meet Shimura Danzō in the underworld? How could he surrender so easily?
---
Peter smiled faintly and nodded. He raised his hand slowly, focusing. A soft emerald glow flickered into existence, spreading outward until it bathed the old man's battered form in a warm radiance.
The green light pulsed with life, carrying vitality like spring's first bloom after winter's chill. It seemed almost divine, like the healing touch of the gods themselves.
As the light seeped into his body, Sarutobi Hiruzen gasped.
Before his wide eyes, wounds that had festered for weeks began to knit themselves shut. Torn flesh mended. The deep cuts and lash marks softened, fading as though time rewound. Severed tendons reconnected, repairing in mere seconds what would take months of recovery.
His pale skin regained color. His shallow breathing grew strong again, steady and confident.
The old man's jaw dropped. His mind reeled in utter disbelief.
"This… this…!" His voice cracked. "Such healing… even Tsunade, my apprentice… no, this is far beyond her skills!"
---
Peter chuckled at his shocked expression, the corners of his lips curling with satisfaction.
Of course, this was no ordinary medical ninjutsu. He was using the Horse Talisman's power, a mystical force that could restore vitality, mend flesh, and knit bone with supernatural ease. It was power that defied even the natural limits of shinobi medicine.
Still, Peter was careful. He had no intention of giving away everything for free. He deliberately avoided restoring the man's missing arm.
Let him seek me later if he truly wants to be whole again, Peter thought slyly. One must know the value of business, after all.
Even so, he had not charged him a coin for this treatment. In his heart, Peter considered that more than generous.
---
Hiruzen felt the waves of warmth still coursing through his body. His heart swelled with gratitude so fierce that tears once again threatened to fall—but this time they were tears of relief, not despair.
"Thank you… thank you, young man," he whispered hoarsely, his eyes fixed on Peter with genuine reverence. "You have given me life again. I will never forget this. Should you ever come to Konoha, I swear you will be received with honor!"
Peter waved dismissively, smiling as if it were nothing. "Don't thank me too much. I'm not made of stone. Since you weren't lying, of course I would help. Saving a life… well, isn't that worth more than building a seven-story pagoda?"
---
As Hiruzen steadied himself, preparing to depart, Peter suddenly raised his voice.
"Wait. Old man—if you truly want strength, if you desire the power to avenge yourself, I can point you to a place."
Hiruzen froze. His eyes flared with new intensity as he turned back. "Young man… where? Tell me, where is this place?"
Peter's lips curved knowingly.
"There's a shop near the border of the Land of Fire. If you have the money, you can find anything there—techniques, weapons, power. Everything."
His words carried a quiet pride.
Peter never wasted a chance to advertise his store.
The truth was simple: his shop was remote, hidden away where few dared travel. And even the finest wine, left unmarked in the shadows, would never be savored by anyone. Word had to spread, or even greatness would fade.
Many of his old customers guarded the secret jealously, afraid new faces would cut into their share of the benefits. They never spoke of the shop to others.
So Peter had learned to advertise himself.
---
Hiruzen's breathing quickened. His chest rose and fell with renewed fervor.
"The border of Fire Country… I understand. Thank you!" His voice carried both relief and burning resolve.
Without hesitation, he turned and began to walk away, his steps still unsteady yet filled with determination.
As he moved further into the distance, his lips curled into a snarl. His voice was low, filled with venom.
"Uchiha… treacherous women… black-hearted capitalists… all of you! When I grow stronger again, none of you will escape my wrath!"
His eyes gleamed with vengeance, his heart set aflame with hatred.
---
Peter watched his retreating figure with calm satisfaction. He folded his arms, nodding slightly.
"Looks like I just secured another future customer."
His smile deepened..
And with that, he turned his gaze eastward, toward the looming sands of Sunagakure. Without wasting another moment, he leapt forward, his body cutting through the wind as he sped toward his next destination.
The desert swallowed his figure, leaving only whispers of fate lingering in the golden dunes.
---
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