The Land of Sky was a small country, beyond the territory of the Land of Wind, whose size could be compared to that of the Land of Whirlpools. An insignificant territory on the world map, easy to ignore. But Noah had learned that the most insignificant places often hid interesting secrets.
Midnight covered the sky with a blanket of stars when Noah, riding Garaga, spotted the first lights of a small town on the horizon. The streets were empty, the houses silent, and only the occasional stray dog dared to break the stillness with its barking.
—Stay here —Noah said, sliding off the serpent's back—. I don't want your giant size to alert anyone.
—What if I get bored? —asked Garaga, his forked tongue sliding between his fangs.
—Hunt something. Just not human. At least until I'm done. It won't take me long anyway.
—Tsk. Boring.
The serpent slithered away among the rocks, his colossal body disappearing into the darkness. Noah dispelled the illusion over his wings —one gold, one black— and rose into the sky.
He located the governor's mansion by its size and the guards dozing at the gates.
He dove down and his feet touched the second-floor balcony without a sound. The sliding door was slightly open, and Noah slipped inside with the fluidity of a shadow. The room was spacious, decorated with dark wood furniture and tapestries depicting landscapes of the country. In the center, on a four-poster bed, a middle-aged man snored peacefully while hugging a woman.
Noah approached.
His hand descended over the governor's face, covering his mouth and nose. The man woke with a start, his eyes widening. He tried to scream, but Noah's hand squeezed with a force that made his jawbone creak.
—Shh —Noah whispered, his voice so low it was barely a whisper—. Don't make a noise.
The governor's eyes rolled back. His body relaxed, and his head fell heavily onto the pillow. Asleep. Noah didn't need to kill him. He only needed what his mind held.
He placed his fingers on the man's temples and closed his eyes as memories flowed into his mind.
As governor of a city, this man would at least know something about where the country's resources and labor were going. Noah sifted through his memories like flipping through a book. Pages and pages of commercial transactions, neighborhood disputes, boring meetings with other bureaucrats.
Nothing relevant.
Until he found a pattern.
Every month, certain envoys from the capital arrived in the city. They wore black hooded robes, their faces hidden, and they took away carriages full of fresh food. Sometimes they also requested a batch of new workers. Strong men, sometimes even children. They took them east, toward the mountains, and they never returned.
No one knew where they went. But no one dared to ask either. Anyone who revealed the slightest information about those shipments was killed. The families of the missing learned to keep quiet and hold their doubts in their hearts.
Noah delved deeper into the governor's memories, searching for the exact location.
—There —he murmured, withdrawing his fingers.
He left the governor still unconscious, breathing peacefully as if nothing had happened. He went out onto the balcony, spread his wings, and flew east.
Garaga was waiting where he had left him, coiled on a rock formation, his head resting on his scales.
—Find anything? —asked the serpent.
—The general direction. Let's go.
Noah mounted Garaga's head, and the creature began to glide toward the mountains. The night enveloped them, and they traveled in silence, following the route Noah had seen in the governor's memories.
Dawn found them in a hidden area among mountains that rose around them like a circle of sleeping giants. The rock walls were steep, almost vertical, and only a narrow gorge allowed access to the inner valley.
Noah dismounted from Garaga and flew toward the gorge.
What he found on the other side left him momentarily speechless.
This was what the people of the Land of Sky were building. A colossal structure rose in the center of the valley. Its gray stone walls rose toward the sky like a monolith, and around it, hundreds of workers toiled like ants, transporting blocks of rock, raising scaffolding, carving inscriptions on the surfaces.
Noah watched for a moment, assessing.
—Garaga —he said—. Are you hungry?
The red serpent smiled.
—Always.
—Try not to kill the ordinary workers and only attack the shinobi.
---
The massacre was swift.
Garaga slithered among the shinobi like a surge of scales and fangs. The men screamed, tried to flee, but there was nowhere to go. The valley was closed, and the serpent was too fast.
Noah, for his part, moved among the guards guarding the construction. They were shinobi, but of too low a level. Chūnin at best. Noah dispatched them one after another with precise blows, without even using jutsus.
In less than fifteen minutes, it was all over.
Most of the workers fled, terrified by the enormous red beast; only a few of the unlucky ones ended up in Garaga's stomach along with the shinobi.
Garaga licked his lips, satisfied.
Noah ignored the chaos around him and walked toward the structure.
The ship —for that was what they were building, a ship— was impressive even in its incomplete state. Its dimensions were colossal, easily twice the size of a modern aircraft carrier. But Noah noticed the flaws immediately once he finished his inspection.
The stone. Almost everything was built of stone.
The walls, the floors, the pillars. Everything was carved stone, joined with mortar. There was hardly any steel, no alloys, nothing that resembled the advanced technology he had expected to find.
And the power source... there was none. The ship was an empty shell, beautiful but useless.
—Damn —Noah murmured—. They have no idea what they're doing.
He approached the structure and placed a hand on the stone wall. His chakra spread out, traversing every corner of the ship, assessing its structure. It was solid, well-built, but primitive. Like an ancient temple disguised as a floating fortress.
—It will serve me for now —Noah reflected, taking a special sealing scroll from his 4D pocket—. But only as a temporary base of operations. Something I can store and take out whenever I want. When I reach a more technologically advanced world, I will upgrade it. I'll replace this stone structure and give it a proper power source.
He unrolled the scroll on the ground. His fingers traced kanji in the air, and a light shone in the center of the valley.
The ship began to shrink until it fit on the scroll's surface. The ink strokes lit up, absorbed the image, and then everything fell silent.
Noah rolled up the scroll and put it in his pocket.
—Done —he said—. Now, let's get out of here.
---
Hours later, in a quieter place, Noah took the ship out of the scroll.
He placed it in a clearing, far from any civilization, and inspected it more closely. He walked through its empty corridors, examined its deserted rooms, climbed its unfinished towers.
The flaws were evident.
The absence of a power source was the most serious. The ship could not fly, could not float, could not do anything without something to propel it. It also had no defense systems or shields. It was just a large, heavy building, shaped like a ship.
Its only attraction was its anti-gravity system that allowed it to float and its powerful energy cannon, but both required a large power source, which this ship did not possess.
The exterior stone structure was another problem. Too heavy, too fragile. A good mid-rank jutsu could bring down an entire wall.
Noah sighed.
—Well —he said, shrugging—. For now it will serve as a base of operations.
He stored the ship back in the scroll.
—For now, this is enough.
He looked at the horizon. The sun rose over the mountains, painting the sky orange and pink. He had spent the whole night traveling, fighting, looting.
—Let's go —he said, mounting Garaga—. We have a certain place to visit.