Erza, noticing the dark expression on Shanks' face, realized that her cousin—her big brother—recognized the symbol. With cautious concern in her voice, she stepped closer and asked, "Onii-chan… do you know what this symbol ans?"
For a brief mont, the air around Shanks seed to thrum with raw power. His aura flared dangerously, and a pulse of tension rippled through the room. He was on the verge of losing control, his Conqueror's Haki beginning to leak out in a wave of suppressed fury. The floor beneath him creaked, and even the distant walls seed to groan under the weight of his rising pressure.
But then her voice—gentle, familiar—cut through the haze of his rage like a clear bell in a storm. He inhaled sharply, grounding himself. His fists, which had been clenched tightly at his sides, slowly relaxed. The violent energy simring around him began to fade, though not completely.
Shanks nodded, his voice low and steady, but edged with sothing cold and restrained. "Yes," he said. "I recognize this seal. I've seen it before… long ago. And because of it, I know who was behind the attack."
Erza's eyes widened in surprise, but before she could press further, he raised a hand—firm, but not unkind.
"But for now," he continued, "you don't need to know."
Shanks could have told Erza and the rest of the clan. He wanted to. But he held back. If he revealed the truth now, it would only stoke their anger and hatred further. And he feared that, in their fury, they might co to see the entire world as their enemy. He could have told her everything. He could have gathered the clan, revealed the truth, nad the enemy, and watched as the fire of vengeance ignited in their hearts. But he didn't. Not yet.
He knew the power of that fire all too well.
If he spoke now, their hatred would only grow, their pain morphing into a seething fury. Their grief would fuel a desire for vengeance that would consu them. And once that path was chosen, there might be no turning back. He feared they would see enemies lurking in every shadow, feel the world itself had turned against them.
These children already understood that the major villages had targeted them. But if they learned that even Konoha, their supposed ally, had not only abandoned them in their ti of need but was also hunting them... They would lose all faith in the world. And once that trust was shattered, there would be no telling what destruction would follow.
Shanks strode toward the other mbers of his clan, his gaze steady and unyielding. "I know that all of you, including you, Erza, are eager to uncover the mystery behind this pattern," he began, his voice calm yet commanding. "And I know what this pattern is, what it does, and who it belongs to. But for now, I will not tell you. You will only learn about it when your strength reaches that of a Jonin, and when you are all mature enough to understand its significance. Until then, none of you will ask about it. Never."
His tone sharpened on the last word, and the group fell silent, understanding the gravity of his command. It was clear—no matter how much they begged or pressed, Shanks would not reveal the truth.
reoleona rose to her feet, her resolve unwavering. "I promise you, Onii-san," she said, her voice firm, "I will not ask. But I also swear that I will reach the level of Jonin as soon as possible."
One by one, the other children, bold enough to stand, made the sa vow. Each of them, with determination in their eyes, promised not only to respect Shanks' wishes but to push themselves toward the strength he demanded.
When reoleona heard all the children echoing her words, she couldn't help herself. "Hey, you bastards!" she snapped, her temper flaring. "Why are you repeating what I just said? Do you want to get beaten up?"
It was a side of reoleona few had seen—a fiery, short-tempered edge that had been buried for too long. She had kept it in check, especially when she was constantly on the move, but now, surrounded by the safety of Shanks and no longer on the run, her true nature resurfaced.
Hana, reoleona's mother, glanced at her, her expression a mix of concern and admonition. "reoleona, watch how you're talking—"
But before she could finish, Shanks raised a hand, halting her. "No need to stop her," he said, his voice calm but firm. "And don't stifle her liveliness. Let her say whatever she wants."
He looked at the group with a smile. "And I like all of your enthusiasm. Keep that spirit alive."
With that, the tension in the room eased, and they all sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes, finishing their food.
Shanks stepped out of the restaurant, his clan mbers following closely behind him. He led them to the carriage where the herbs were stored, the scent of the herbs lingering faintly in the air.
"These herbs mask the sll," Shanks explained, his voice steady and confident. "So, all of you need to squeeze them and rub them into the different corners of the carriage—and on yourselves, too."
Shanks knew this well, not only from his mories of this world but from the experience of the previous Shanks. It was a simple tactic, but effective.
The won imdiately set to work—Yumi, Rina, Miki, Kaori, Hana, Emi, and Aiko. They didn't let the children handle the task; this was sothing they took care of themselves. Shanks, however, took charge of the front of the carriage, applying the herbs with precision. The children, eager to help, joined him, and he didn't turn them away. Together, they finished the task efficiently.
Once everyone had applied the herbs to themselves and the carriages, they climbed aboard. Shanks took the reins of the first carriage, settling into the coachman's position. The horses began to move, and the carriages followed suit. In the middle carriage, Erza sat quietly taking the driving seat, her expression focused as the journey began.
In the last carriage, Aiko took the reins as the driver, her experience with horse riding giving her the confidence to handle the task. anwhile, Shanks again used his Conqueror's Haki, releasing a wave of overwhelming pressure. This ti, he allowed the people who were still awake—the ones from the restaurant and the hotel—to faint once more. He couldn't risk the chance that any of them might awaken and alert others, potentially spreading word of their departure. For their safety and his own, it was better to keep them unconscious.
(Fig: AI generated in comnts.)
As the carriages began to move forward, Shanks guided the horses effortlessly. His skill as a coachman was instinctive, honed from experience. Yet, as the wheels turned and the road stretched before them, his thoughts wandered to his current state. He still had about 70% of his Chakra left—slightly less, after the battle with the masked ninjas and maintaining his Observation Haki.
Though the chakra consumption seed minimal, Shanks knew better than anyone that, being from the Uzumaki Clan, even 30% of his total chakra was substantial. The idea of asuring chakra in precise units, like in so of the fanfictions he had read, seed foreign to him. He had no clear base unit like Kakashi's chakra levels, but he knew this: Among the masked ninjas, the leader had only about a tenth of his full chakra. That, more than anything, told him how outclassed they had been.
(A/N: Please keep in mind that due to his Sharingan, Kakashi's chakra reserves were lower than those of the average Jonin, and he typically relied more on skill than chakra. This is ten tis the chakra of a healthy Jonin near their peak.)
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