Chapter 121: Inside the Temple

The Temple of Wind was once the spiritual heart of a desert tribe. Its massive architecture still hinted at its former glory, though even the sturdiest stone could not withstand a millennium of relentless sand erosion. All that remained were stone statues worn beyond recognition and a towering sanctuary constructed from monolithic blocks joined with seamless precision.

"Master Baki..." The temple, previously as hollow and silent as a ghost realm, suddenly played host to a Sand Anbu operative who appeared in a flash, wearing a yellow fox mask and sporting a mop of messy hair beneath it.

Serving as a guard in this godforsaken place must have been a special kind of torture.

"The Kazekage has ordered that these three individuals be permitted to enter the Temple of Wind to speak with the Jinchuriki. If they can persuade the Jinchuriki, they are authorized to take him away." Baki produced the Kazekage’s sealed scroll.

The Anbu operative carefully verified the scroll before nodding. He uttered words that an Anbu agent would typically never dare to complain about: "I hope they can persuade that stubborn old man. It would be a relief to finally get out of this hellhole."

"My thanks for your hard work." Baki did not reprimand them. To ensure the secrecy of the Jinchuriki’s confinement, the guarding Anbu were rotated every five years. Staying in this desolate wasteland for five years was enough to break even the most highly trained operative.

"I’ve heard that line too many times to care. Next time you send supplies, just bring us some decent magazines," the fox-masked Anbu said, waving a hand. Clearly, years of monotonous life had worn down the sharp edges of his professionalism.

"I will do my best. Open the gate," Baki replied with a nod.

The fox-masked operative walked to the temple wall and performed a complex series of hand seals. The rough rock surface rippled and shifted, revealing an entrance. It was an illusion. Further inside, there was an iron gate etched with sealing formulas; only after breaking those seals did the true sanctuary reveal itself.

"He is inside. You may enter, but watch out for that fat raccoon," the fox-masked guard cautioned.

The dim, cavernous hall was the size of two football fields. There was no artificial light; only a few stray beams of sunlight pierced through fissures in the ceiling, accompanied by a light, trickling shower of fine sand.

Yugito ignited four brilliant fireballs that danced around them, illuminating the surroundings. The vast hall was nearly bare, save for several bookshelves laden with dusty, ancient texts. The murals on the walls remained vibrant and bright, depicting the story of a group of monks arriving a millennium ago to preach the teachings of Ninshu.

Directly ahead, a mural spanned the entire wall. It depicted the Sage of the Six Paths, his expression solemn, with six black Truth-Seeking Orbs floating behind him. His Rinnegan eyes seemed to possess a natural, hypnotic power; even as a mere mural, they compelled one to bow in worship.

"Is this... the Sage of the Six Paths?" Nonō’s mouth hung open. She had read descriptions of him in ancient texts—the progenitor of the ninja world, whose Rinnegan could invert the tides of fate.

"Dry for a thousand years, damp for ten thousand; Uncle was right," Bairu remarked, marveling at the oil painting that looked as fresh as if it had been finished yesterday.

Kakuzu stroked his chin, calculating how much he could sell the mural for if he dismantled it.

Just as everyone was struck by the sight of the Sage, a wave of sand surged from behind, launching a sneak attack before they could react.

"Look out behind you!" Baki was the quickest to respond.

Bairu hurriedly stepped aside, ducking behind Kakuzu. After all, what meat shield is more reliable than a teammate?

*Whoosh!* A deluge of fine sand sprayed over the group, coating them head-to-toe. A raccoon, roughly the size of a fat dog, was using its hind legs to kick sand toward them relentlessly. "Damn it! Damn it! Go to hell! Eat my Sand Storm Burial!"

The group stared at the One-Tail with deadpan expressions; this amount of sand was like a child’s tantrum.

"How cute..." Nonō even considered picking it up.

"Cute? Screw you! Eat dung!" Shukaku kicked wildly at Nonō again.

"Shukaku, return... do not be rude..." A frail, aged voice echoed from the side. An old, bald monk lit an oil lamp and sat at a small table.

Shukaku scurried back to the monk’s side, making faces at the group.

"Greetings, Master Bunpuku." Baki bowed slightly. It was truly difficult to fathom their relationship—imprisoning the man while simultaneously showing him such deference.

"It is Baki... sit and have some tea." The monk Bunpuku shakily lifted the kettle beside him, picked up a cup, and poured a serving, placing it on the table. This simple action took a full minute, completed only with Shukaku’s help in steadying the cup.

Bairu felt a pang of sadness. Gaara was born around the same time as Naruto, which meant Master Bunpuku had only about a year left to live. He looked truly at the end of his rope.

"That won't be necessary. I am not the one here to see you, Master Bunpuku. I am merely a guide," Baki said, shaking his head.

"Oh... has a candidate for the Jinchuriki already been found?" Bunpuku knew his time was short; he had already reported to the Kazekage that they needed to find a successor quickly.

"Whoever tries to seal me, I will kill them!" Shukaku snarled with bared teeth. It was a pity that it was merely a fragment of the Tailed Beast’s consciousness that Bunpuku had manifested for company; its power was comparable only to a ninja hound, and its feigned ferocity felt more amusing than threatening.

"Shukaku... I have already quelled most of your malice. If you pass away with me, the version of you that is reborn will no longer be you, and all our efforts toward your salvation will be in vain," Bunpuku said, gently stroking the beast’s head.

"I don't care! I'd rather die with you. Whoever tries to seal me, I’ll make sure they never sleep soundly for the rest of their lives!" Shukaku remained agitated. If this was a Tailed Beast after "salvation," one could only imagine how violent it must have been before.

Bunpuku smiled, stroking Shukaku’s head. The character "Love" written on his palm emitted a faint warmth, suppressing the beast’s frenzy.

"It is not about the Jinchuriki... Master Prophet, please, speak for yourself." Baki stepped back.

Bairu’s expression turned solemn. He bowed deeply and respectfully to Bunpuku, a gesture of genuine reverence. One could tease others, but a wandering monk like Bunpuku, who embodied such profound love, was truly beyond mockery.

"Please, sit... I wonder what you wish to ask of me, my friend." Bunpuku slowly extended the teacup.

Bairu sat down with equal gravity. Instead of stating his objective immediately, he placed the *Canon of Pure Love* on the table with great ceremony. "I wish to discuss with you, Master Bunpuku—what is love?"

"Oh?" Bunpuku struggled to open his eyes, carefully observing the young man before him. He had been alone in this temple for decades, seeking only to comprehend the meaning of "Love." This was the first time someone had ever truly come to discuss such a topic with him. "Young man, do you also understand love?"

"To maintain peace and uphold love is the creed I have always believed in. I believe that in the ninja world, no one understands love better than I do," Bairu said with the utmost humility.

"Shukaku, bring the best tea!" Even in his withered, dying state, Bunpuku seemed to find new life.