Page 81 of The Serpent and the Silver Wolf

Kiba ignored them both, focusing on the map. “It looks like we need to follow this tributary of the Great River for maybe two or three days. It’s hard to tell.”

I guess so.He ignored her, as usual, as if the moment in the barn had never existed.

Aimee leaned in, trying to control her annoyance with the man. “Hmmm, so why isn’t Midoriko clearly marked? We don’t want to just stumble onto the bandits.”

“Excellent question, my dear,” Oba-chan interjected, shooting a pointed glare at Kiba.

“Because, Aimee.” Kiba glanced up as the rest of the squad joined their huddle. “The independent territories between the Havens are often not considered when making things like maps. Their borders change with every conflict, and their villages, often caught in thecrossfire, are left to fend for themselves while the Havens negotiate treaties.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Oba-chan snorted. “We pay for most of your precious missions, but since we aren’t shinobi and have no Mana, you don’t give a rat’s ass what happens to us.”

“We’re not all like that,” Momoka squeaked, her voice small.

Oba-chan’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, it looked like she was about to unleash a tirade on the girl. Her lips parted, her face hardening, but before she could speak, Kiba intervened.

“There are enough people among the Havens who think this way, Momoka, to make life difficult for non-shinobi villages.”

Momoka’s brow furrowed, her hands twisting together nervously. “It can’t be that bad…”

“It is,” Iruka said quietly, his words drawing surprised looks from the group. His face remained unreadable, but there was a tension in his posture, his arms locked over his chest.

“Go on.” Kiba-Sensei turned to him.

Iruka hesitated for a moment before speaking, his nose crinkling. “Their food and homes get taken for our armies, and their villages become battlegrounds. We protect our own, but they’re left to pick up the pieces. We’re not always the good guys, no matter what the Hi Seisho says.”

“I don’t believe it.” Momoka looked around the group.

Aimee glanced at Iruka. She knew his parents had been killed on a mission when he was small, which explained why he was always so serious and dedicated to his training. But this…this wasn’t anger at some foreign enemy. His frustration seemed directed at Hi Haven, maybe even the Hi Seisho himself.

What’s his story? she wondered.

“It’s not…untrue,” Kiba said softly, placing a reassuring hand on Momoka’s shoulder. “But we haven’t had a war of that scale in over forty years, and Hi Haven has made many changes since then.”

Iruka turned his head slightly, his jaw tightening, but he remained quiet.

Oba-chan gave the boy a small nod. “At least some of you young ones see the truth. Perhaps things will change in the future.”

“They will,” Taiga said, his wide eyes full of serious resolve. “You have my word, Granny.”

The old woman gave a respectful bow before turning and walking down the path Kiba had pointed out earlier.

They hiked for most of the day, their footsteps taking them into the wetlands that stretched between Ten Haven’s towering forests and the wide, open plains of Mizu Haven. The air grew thicker as the landscape morphed to a sprawling marshland.

When the sun hung low in the sky, casting long, golden beams that slanted through the trees and hinted at the approach of late afternoon, Kiba finally stopped them.

“This is a good place for camp,” he announced.

“But we’ve got a couple more hours of light,” Taiga protested, his voice edged with weariness as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “We could make it there before tomorrow.”

“It won’t do us any good if we arrive exhausted,” Kiba replied, his tone firm. “The bandits may not have Mana, but there’s still too much we don’t know. It would be unwise to reach them and not be ready for a fight.”

“But…” Taiga started.

“He’s right, kid,” Oba-chan said, sinking onto a nearby rock with a weary sigh. “As much as I want to get there as soon as possible, we’d be putting the people at more risk if we show up unprepared.”

“If you say so.” Taiga shrugged off his pack.

The group set to work setting up camp on the edge of a steep drop, where the land sloped into the swamp below. They laid out their bedrolls cautiously, the dampness from the nearby marsh clinging to the air, making everything feel slightly sticky. The earthy scent of moss and wet leaves filled her nose as they searched for dry wood along the rocky outcrop, the crackle of twigs snapping underfoot breaking the evening’s quiet.