Okay everyone, its been a while since I updated this story.

For one, sorry fot that, and you all might see this chapter isn't mostly focused on the main character, but its to frame the plot for now.

And secondly, now this is done, expect (maybe) to see an update soon. I'm on my way to also release another project soon, or two.

Enjoy the chapter.


Western Desert

Coming through one of the dirt roads, that was one of the many routes that were only ways of transportation through these lands, with sand dust settling through by the wind and carcasses of dead animals laying aside, it was currently being trotted over.

A column of horses was seen going to one direction, with on it armed knights in their armor as they were escorting carriages with more troops and equipment that they've been supplied with - these men were part of the military expedition that was sent by their country. Only, they weren't the Saderan Empire, but instead they flew a different flag, that of the Melromarc Monarchy.

The reason for such a large amount of troops being sent to one of the most desolate parts of Her Majesty's kingdom? Their mission was to patrol all the colonial-administrated territory that was bordered alongside the Saderan parts of the Western Desert.

That was the mission that has been charged to a highly respectable Knight, who herself came from a family that came to close respect to the Queen herself, who's father was her right hand in affairs before he was assassinated.

The butt-length strawberry-blonde haired Eclair Seaetto, sat on the passenger seat of the carriage she was on, going on her very first mission outside the continent, like many of her soldiers.

She had to be honest to herself, the nervousness had her going for the first few moments after she received this task. Because she never had gone outside the continent, having gone to as far as Faubrey, but never to the center of the world.

But she had a duty to fulfill.

Flashback

A few weeks back

In the Royal Palace, Eclair stood in the middle of the empty private working quarters of her Majesty. Who had summoned for her presence just only a few hours ago from her previous occupation.

That occupation? The funeral of her late father, Lord Seaetto, who a week prior was found dead with a dagger in his back in his home. A sight she herself knew would be engraved in her mind for the rest of her life.

"Eclair."

The strawberry-blonde turns her head slightly, to see a beautiful woman enter the room, wearing her traditional royal gowns that fitted the color of both her nation's flag, but also her appearance. Purple hair that is tied up in a bob with collarbone-length bangs hanging on either side, matching eyes and attire in whole she was wearing. The woman standing in front of the young knight was Queen Mirellia Q Melromarc herself.

"Your Majesty." She bowed immediately in her presence. With the Queen herself looking a bit saddened herself.

"Please don't." The Queen pleaded before stating. "I wanted to personally express my condolences for your loss. Your father was a good man."

"Thank you, your Highness." Eclair accepted it. "Your words help dearly. But I would hope that justice will prevail soon."

"Do not worry about that, I can assure you those who are responsible will be caught." Queen Mirellia told her, as she went on to sit behind her working desk. "I've already got my best people working on it, but I summoned you here for another reason."

Eclair raised her head and asked first. "Is it connected to the murder of my father? If it's not, then I'm sorry, but my mind's not on the right moment at now."

"It concerns your father's work: his governing over the colonial territories of the Western Desert."

Hearing that come out of her own mouth, the Queen squinted her eyes after saying that, and pulled her fan out to open it in front of her mouth.

This however got Eclair to question about it. "What about that?"

"I've been told that the Saderans have sent in more men to the region, their parts of it, as far I can tell." The Queen told her and added. "And this unsettles me, the Church and the nobility. Which in itself is a rare occurrence, but the biggest voice of concern is from Faudrey. Who have requested an immediate response to this."

Eclair, herself not much a fan or even an bookkeeper on politics, found herself immediately uninterested in these matters. Yet the main reason she had to be invested was because her father was the late regional administrating governor of the occupied region, who was appointed by the Queen herself, to combat the problems like corruption and violence in the best ways possible. And it was perhaps that reason her father was murdered.

"What are you asking of me, your Highness?"

"A task I entrust you, my dear. And you only."

End Flashback

Continuing to think back to the words of Queen Mirellia. The young Eclair couldn't believe that she actually accepted this task that she's been given to:

Her task? Keep the interests of the Melromarc's secured by patrolling with an strong force of her subjects the borders that were shared with the Saderan regions. In hoping to keep them at bay of crossing the lines that were drawn on the maps.

At first, she would've politely rejected this request as she had no interest in protecting the far positioned possessions of the monarchy, and instead would've wanted to go and hunt down the perpetrators who were behind the death of her father.

Instead, she accepted it after hearing the Queen's reasons. With the most convincing one being that the killers most likely were those who were members of the settlers' community that weren't keen of the new governor who would want to go curb corruption.

Second, because her father had more 'open-minded' views on the Demi-human and local indigenous population of the area, who he would've most likely approached in a friendly manner, which the settlers themselves disapproved of harshly, given their notorious treatment of the natives, there's no question why.

On paper, the local colonial subjects were to be treated as equal to its growing Settler population. But in reality, and with evidence, wasn't practiced in general, let alone tolerated with the Heroes Church being one of its wildest opponents, who had a very different view of the 'hostile savage heretic population'.

The Heroes Church itself, was perhaps the biggest contributor of that harsh relations between the new coming settlers, and the locals, they seem to be having a bigger influence here in the territories then the Queen's courts. With their aggressively advocating for more devout followers to emigrate to the new lands and force the natives out, that often have lead to deadly clashes.

Eclair herself, wasn't much of a fan of the Church either.

"Ma'am?"

The young knight turned to her left where the driver sat. "Yes?" She saw that she's being offered a can of water.

"Its pretty hot, so you can use the refreshment."

Given they were travelling close to the desert, she accepted the can and drank from it, with a few droplets falling from the sides of her mouth. The bald man couldn't help but release a chuckle and commented.

"You're pretty thirsty, aren't you?"

Eclair gasps from delight as her lips departed from the can and used the palm of her hand to whip her mouth dry.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"Ah, never mind." The bald man said, turning back to the road with, controlling the horses that were pulling the carriage. "Your first time coming to this place?"

"Well, to be hones, yes." Eclair said to the soldier. "Even though my father made several visits here, I never went along."

The column continued on as a few horses with armed knights overtook them, with their horses taking up pace.

"I've been here for a good ten years, ma'am." The bald man told the noble knight. "And this year, it will be my last."

Eclair was confused. "How so?"

"Because, I am retiring, my lady. I've done my part for Queen and Country." The bald driver said keeping the horses moving. "After serving almost a decade in this place, I'll be glad to return to the capital."

"You mean that you won't be living here, in the territories?" Eclair asked, as she that many soldiers, especially followers of the Church, would retire here and grab some land for themselves. "Even when you're given all the attributes of being here?"

The bald man, in response, chuckled to himself as he shook his head to that what he'd just heard. Leaving the noble woman, again in confusion.

"Why, what's wrong?"

"Ma'am, my apologies, but I'm intending to make sure that after my final months of service, I'll be back home in the capital, far away from the problems here." He paused before adding. "I'll be a blacksmith and make an honest living, far more honorable than those who live on these lands, stolen from the natives."

Eclair, hearing this sentiment, wasn't exactly surprised, as it was common to hear this narrative, mainly from the reformist minding people like her father. Yet, this was the first time hearing this from a soldier who actually was serving in the area.

"They call them terrorists, bandits, scoundrel and whatever you can name up." The man shook his head. "They just don't want to face the reality they're fighting a whole nation here."

"... What's your name, sir?"

"Erhard, ma'am." The bald man revealed his name. "My name's Erhard."

The noble young lady nodded and turned her gaze back to the road. In silence they continued to move in with the rest of the column.


Mohda

Having been now a week since the incident, things seem to have turned normal for now, with normal being relative peace in the area that was sustainable enough for the locals who were trying to just go by their lives.

With the day being now close to end with the sun settling, one last boat just had docked with a full shipment.

"Got a big catch!"

A net full with fresh caught fish was getting hulled up the docking bay, with two other pair of hands helping the first person who had gotten off the boat.

"Good, good, watch out-"

"I am, dad-"

"Don't let the net get open-"

"Its not! Just don't stress me out-"

"Take it easy, we're done!"

THUD!

The big catch was dropped on the dock, allowing the three fishermen to let themselves stretch for a bit, especially for the older man that was Hamed, who was seen bending over.

"Are you alright, father?" Emir asked for his aging old man. "You look beat."

"Agh, my back's not what it used to be," Hamed groaned, hoping for something to pop up his back, so the pain could go away. "Old age, my son, it's coming for me."

"Certainly…" His son mumbled before turning to the 3rd fishermen who was checking the net, seeing it was ready.

"Hey, we're ready to go?"

The third fisherman, raises his head up, being none other than Naruto Uzumaki himself, in similar clothing like the villagers, he was now helping his caretakers with the catchings they've made.

"It's good to go," Naruto said to his colleague. "Let's bring it to the market."

"You heard him, boy. Let's move it up on the cart."

The fishing town was getting a bit crowded, despite its population dwindling for the past few years, the community remained strongly connected and everyone in the town would speak to each other in a friendly manner when given the opportunity.

Like Mother Amiha Kalbouchi, who was seen wearing her headscarf over her head, with an visible smile on her face as she was in the market buying the freshest goods that were being offered by the sellers, having already gotten some beef, bread, vegetables, potatoes, and even special commodities like eggs and milk that was not as often being brought to this small village.

She now had walked up to the shopkeeper and greeted. "Salam, Kiramich."

The shopkeeper named Kiramich turned around to see who it was, and smiled at the sight of the person and greeted. "Salam, Amiha. How's your day going?"

"Its going good, Thank the Gods, going well." Amiha nodded her head with a genuine smile before asking. "Dear, do you have some eggs for me? Or some milk?"

Kiramich, an short bearded old man, was an travelling trader who was a regular that was befriended with Amiha's husband, but an older friend to Amiha who had known her for almost forty years, ever since childhood.

He was from a different group of people that had settled in the desert a few hundred years ago but were on good terms for most parts with the local population, but also shared the same kind of harassment from the Saderan and Halkeginian security forces that weren't keen on them. His people mostly resided in the cities, often in big communities, but also a few settling towns that laid on the outskirts, having their own language, traditions, food and even religious beliefs, with some of those town being predominantly their own people, which in itself wasn't abnormal in the Western Desert, as it was home to multiple different communities from all over the world.

Some voluntarily, some not, others with happy ambitions, while also some coming from tragedies.

"Oh, I'm running low, but for you…." Kiramich told her as he pulled something from his trade wagon that was accompanied by two steady horses, pulling than out a packaged in. "I always have some, my dear friend."

A small bundle was pulled out of the wagon as the trader handed it over to his long known friend. Amiha opened the bundle and was glad to see what was in it:

A few fresh loafs of bread with alongside of it a small packet of butter and even a few slices of meat prepared next to eight eggs.

"Thank you, Kiramich."

Kiramich smiled at his friend. "Always for a friend."

"Hey, look, over there!"

The two elderly people with the rest of the villagers were being warned by the watchtower, making all eyes turn to the road that was the only way through Mohda, and there they saw something:

A column was approaching from the north, leaving a trial of dust behind as they were seen coming in almost half a dozen wagons towards the town.

And it was coming in a hurry, in such pace that the flags only became recognizable when they came closer.

When it was already too late.


Meanwhile

Knappnai Mountains

The high mountain border region of the Knappnai Mountains, the very area that separated the green plains of the Saderan Empire from the 'uncivilized' sand dunes of Western Desert. It was for many travelers a dangerous and hostile place to cross borders as it was a hotbed for violence that was yet to be curbed by the Saderans who were in charge of this area with border checkpoints and patrol units trying to root out the problem it was having:

But even for those Saderan boys from across the Empire, these mountains were known to be the one place no man wishes to be posted at…that was the lesson of the men at this border checkpoint-

THUD!

That was the body of an Saderan infantryman, stripped off his armor and equipment, leaving him only to be remained with the shredded fabric clothes he carried on his body before having been slain.

"Move it, people. We've only got a hour before sundown."

That was the familiar voice of the resistance fighter named Kemal, who was now seen ordering his men various instructions.

"Take their weapons and equipment, maps, food, water, anything worth taking."

In front of him laid whatever remained of the Imperial border checkpoint that he and his men had just attacked in an ambush: with the results being a success of their caliber. With members of his group seen stripping the dead imperials, calming down the surviving and often wounded horses, and even setting fire to the Saderan flag with a torch.

Just when they managed to prepare the ambush, a small convoy of three carriages with supplies happened to stop at the checkpoint. Meaning they had managed to score a double victory by taking out the checkpoint and stealing the supplies.

The aftermath scene of the fight however was still a somber look, as those Imperial soldiers were all but cut down without any restraint by his men.

Kemal happened to walk by the line of bodies of the imperials that had died in the battle, all of whom were ill-prepared conscript kids with little to any training, forced to face off against a well-motivated and experienced opponent in their own homeland.

All of those Saderans happened to meet their ultimate fate: except for two, seen forced on their knees and beaten up roughly and stripped naked to humiliate them further on their defeat. As they were surrounded by Kemal's comrades who were all willing to plunge their blades inside the ribs of these invaders.

The two prisoners were clearly in the state of fear as they saw the carriages of supplies being hauled away into the mountain passes by the rebels, with even their wounded horses being taken as they were intended to strip and loot anything of value away from this checkpoint that's now a heap of ashes.

And what laid in front of them: The bodies of their fallen comrades, all of whom their corpses were laid in the heating sun with the first signs of flies seen feasting over the fresh open wounds of blade slashes, arrow holes and even musket shots that shredded through their bodies.

While the blood had already spilled on the road, yet these rebels were not satisfied with the spillage.

*Slap!*

*Slap!*

The two prisoners got their heads slapped from behind by one of the rebels, seen wearing a blue coat, an unlike many of the others who wore keffiyeh's or face coverings, his face was visible.

The brown balding man with the small growing unshaven beard underneath his mouth, the scars on his scalp, scar over his eye and the fierce brown eyes of hatred. He was carrying a small dagger that had still dried up blood on it. And the scars and eyes were enough for the older prisoner to recognize the man.

"By the Gods above us who judge us for eternity! I've avenged my people one more time!" The bearded man shouted in high spirits while holding the dagger over the dead Saderans. "This is the price that the invaders will pay over and over again for the crimes against the Anasazi people! Those who stole our lands, destroyed our homes and forced us to submission. And now today we made these bastards pay again in blood!"

"HOOO!" The other rebels joined in the roar, raising their blades and muskets up high in good spirits. As today's victory was a well deserved one.

There was however one corpse that stood out from the others, that unlike the others that were peasants, was that of a nobleman whose clothes were still shredded, but was still in a better state than the others.

The bearded man however kicked the deceased nobleman's head around. Already forcing his battered face around like a sack of grain.

"These Nobles…" The sound in his voice couldn't be any clearer than that of venom in his mouth. "Halkeginians, Saderans, Melromarc, all of them think they can step over us…oh, you're lucky you've already been claimed by death….Sire…"

The two prisoners were clearly unable to even utter a word out, seeing they've already seen how their commanding officer was killed by the same man who stood over his body.

"Oh, I rarely come across you Sadera city scum alive… Maybe I-"

"Saddam. Enough."

It was then that the now named Saddam stopped and raised his head around to see the Keffiyeh wearing man walk up to him.

"Kemal Kalbouchi, wondered where you were." Saddam smiled seeing his friend. "We were just getting started."

"And now you're ending it." Kemal said ending the whole debacle with a warning added. "And I told you to not use our full names, Saddam Hamid."

Saddam Hamid was the name of the dagger carrying man, who was a friend of the now named the oldest sibling of the Kalbouchi siblings.

Kemal walked over to the two prisoners, with him then pulling out a small knife from under behind his belt.

The older prisoner closed his eyes while the other one was beginning to plead.

"Please, please, I got a family. I never had anything against you-"

*CUT!*

*CUT!*

Instead of getting their throats cut like thought of so, their hands were freed from the ropes as Kemal set them loose.

"What-" The second man got forced up by Kemal and was shoved some of his clothing and even some supplies.

"Here are your belongings, food and water." Kemal told him and pointed out to a direction. "Go that direction and you'll come across a village. Once there, you're safe back in the Empire."

The younger prisoner was astonished by this mercy and then tried to take his clothes on as fast as he could before he then made a run for across the border towards the direction. Not wasting a moment here anymore.

The others rebel fighters just watched on what their commander did, unfazed and unsurprised. They were used to what Kemal would do: spare one or more survivors to spread the news.

However, what caught their attention was the older prisoner who was different from the young conscript peasant. Who was strong build and calm at the same time, meaning he wasn't just some meathead glory seeker.

"You don't run, nor do you show fear." Kemal walked over to the unmoved prisoner. "Why's that?"

The Saderan knight raised his head up and turned then to the bodies of the fallen men.

"They're just peasants, sons of families who need to return for the harvest. At least let them be given a passage back homewards."

"You thin-" One rebel's attempt to speak was shunned by Kemal's raised arm, showing his clear authority over the men who follow him as he responded to the prisoner's plea.

"Only these conscripts? How about the Nobleman?"

The older prisoner didn't even blink his eye at the mentioning of the separate corpse as he responded.

"He's the reason why all those men are dead. We've warned him multiple times that it's dangerous to take this route without a dragon unit to cover us from above. Yet he refused to think even one moment about his men."

The fighters who were hearing this stood silent, not daring to mind their own opinion, but their minds did speak internally on the fact this wasn't an isolated case of incompetent leadership. Where noblemen officers were arrogantly leading their peasant volunteers/forced conscript soldiers into a death trap.

There were so many incidents akin to this, that the fighters in all honestly were feeling a bit of pity for their enemy counterparts, especially the young ones who were cut down before their prime.

Kemal kneeled down to the captured soldier's level to say. "So you want me to allow you to bring these young men back home?"

The prisoner raised his head up, showing he had no fear read in his eyes and responded with the respect he was willing to give.

"You as an Anasazi Warrior, are known to be respectful. That's how I was raised to know your people before this stupid war."

That response made Kemal to turn his head to Saddam, who was seen only closing his arms and standing firm.

"It's your call, man." The bearded fighter said. "You're the leader of this bunch."

Kemal's gaze then turned back to his prisoner, who was waiting for the decision to be made.

And made it was.


Half hour later

Now making its way through the great plains of the Empire, a pair of healthy horses that were seen pulling a cart that was being steered by one single man. It was the older prisoner, stripped off his armor and weapons, he instead was given a good pair of clothing that would be fit for both warm and cold days of travelling with also been given food and water with some coin to go by.

And as requested, he was seen now given the bodies of his fallen villagers who were laid in the back of the cart. All of them cleaned properly off dirt and blood and covered in pieces of cloth that they were given so they'd be given a proper burial by their loved ones.

An Anasazi's Warrior's Code - had just made this possible, and the old former prisoner was just a witness of that.

"Thank you…and may this damned war end soon."

Meanwhile

Knappnai Mountains

Up on these mountains long away from the abandoned border checkpoint, the group of fighters had already made their leave with what they've managed to get their hands on.

The mountains were treacherous for those who were unknown to its dangers but these warriors knew these rocky places like their coat pockets. With them slowly walking with their horses and loot through the passes and caves, they were making their ways to the entrenched positions where they've been living for as long as they could remember.

One could remember, it was Kemal, who now seen caring for the horse with the multiple arrow wounds that were being treated by the oldest Kalbouchi who before he picked up the arms for the Struggle, was a young man who had a passion for animals.

"Psssh, no worry, you're going to be okay, my friend."

The horse felt calm around this man's presence as it felt the warm water soaked cloth being pressed against the open wound by the Kalbouchi young man, who couldn't stand the fact the poor animal was suffering in a man's war.

War animals didn't have the luxury to understand.

"Brrt!"

"Alright, that's good." Kemal turned to the man next to him. "Bring him to the stalls and keep the cloth to the wound."

"Yes sir." The warrior nodded.

"Okay, move."

The warrior nodded and began pulling the wounded horse along with him, following through the narrow passes, leaving Kemal behind alone.

Or so he thought-

"You traded a good pair of horses for two wounded ones."

Kemal turned around to see he got tapped on the back by Saddam, who walked past him, as he walked alongside him, they both were in the back of the group, having a private discussion.

With the musket rifle swung across to lean against his shoulder, Saddam began. "Thirty five bodies, including three nobles and one tax collector."

"Yes, and we got only five wounded." With Elias being hit in the head."

"He's going to make it. Guy's a hard guy to kill." Saddam said chuckling. "But the fact we killed two nobles, it helps."

Kemal turned. "How so?"

"The morale, brother." Saddam specified. "Knowing they actually made some rich asshole's son bleed to death, it boosts their confidence up. One dead noble beats a hundred dead conscripts."

Saddam Hamid, was in his own words 'an committed fighter' who had a strong hatred for the Nobility that he saw as an unneeded class that had no place in this world. He despised the foreign powers and the institutions that had infiltrated into his country. His hatred wasn't an uncommon feeling amongst many of the fighting men in Kemal's group, nor in that of other across the land.

But Saddam was willing to be more vicious, an total opposite to that of Kemal. As he had begun to take in 'Revolutionary' views from his one-year studying in the capital of Jilachi where he'd read some books alongside with his Kalbouchi friend.

While Kemal just simply wanted to remove all foreign powers from his homeland and end the attempted colonization of his country, Saddam was on a whole different level of thought. Even wanting to go beyond borders….

While he was an formidable, strong and good ally to fight alongside with. He was however, politically and ideologically, driven with hatred, for those who had taken everything from him.

And a person like that was an clear and present danger.

"Anyway, we're up our numbers with the supplies we've taken." Saddam said bringing up the loot in numbers. "With the hundred muskets and ammo, food and water. We might last another three weeks."

"Yes, but we also might expect another brigade of Saderans to come looking for us." Kemal spoke of the possibility. "Remember what the informant told us."

"Yeah, the one traveler." Saddam acknowledged. "But we were prepared for that. After the Frigate Raid."

"Don't remind me." Kemal shook his head at that. "We were lucky to come out of that alive."

"Yet, we managed to teach them a lesson - to not fly over our land."

The two warriors walked through the narrower path, with the view being that of magnificence, that you could see the whole area down below with the lake.

And on the riverbanks of that lake laid the small fishing town Mohda - Kemal's hometown.

"No matter how many times, it's a good view." Saddam mentioned the view that he admired. "Don't you agree?"

"Yeah, I do."

Night was coming as the sun was ready to settle down, and the orange sky would soon turn dark blue.

But then, Kemal noticed the large amount of carts and horses near his village, and the flags they were flying.

"No…."

Meanwhile

A few miles outside the village, a wagon was seen making its way back home. With on it being Hamed with his son Emir next to him, with in the back of the wagon laid a few barrel cases of fresh water and food that he bought with the earnings from the fish.

But also in the small corner in the wagon laid Naruto in, sleeping in his clothing as on his lap, laid the small but cute Raphtalia, laying her head on his chest, crawled up to him like a cub to her father.

Emir looked back and couldn't help but smile at the sight of it and turned to his father. "You see it, old man?"

"Yes, I do." Hamed cracked a chuckle as he kept the horses steady. "Reminds me when I was holding you and Layla in my lap. You two couldn't stop making funny faces at one another."

Back in the wagon, Naruto slightly began to wake up, his eyes noticed the figure of Rahptalia laying on him, and he smiled seeing that as he went back to sleep.

Only, he didn't get back to sleep, as his mind had whole different ideas.


*Drip!* *Drip!* *Drip!*

Naruto's eyes shot open, and he stood right up.

Quite surprised where he was, he noticed he stood in something wet and dark, and looked down. He stood in something like a puddle, only it didn't look like water.

It was dark and heavy when he raised his boots out of it, and it felt warm, which further brought discomfort to the young blonde.

"Finally…"

That harsh, brute-like voice that brought the blonde to turn almost stone, but his face yet turned around to face the thing he did not expect to see.

A huge cage with metal bars that was promptly wide open, and in there laid the biggest beast he had ever seen, a orange furred monster Fox with nine tails and teeth that could crush anything, with red eyes.

That was Kurama - the Nine Tailed Fox, and he's now grown out of patience.

"Damn it, now it's time to get your memory fixed up, kid."