Naruto: The Last Harbinger of Storm
Chapter 54: The Capital
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Author's Note:
Remember Zahir from when the Daimyo awarded Naruto for saving him? Times have clearly changed. dolliekuma16 asked for the next chapter, and here it is! Your wish is my command. 😏 Please like and comment—your feedback means the world to me! 🙌✨
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Stay tuned for the next chapter of NTLHOS.
Join ThirdFireTriden on Pa(tre)(on) the link is in description or type my name in google search with pat (tre) on remove the space and bracket!
NTLHOS: Chapter 55: All path shall lead to me! IS OUT!
NTLHOS: Chapter 56: The Fire Court's Verdict! IS OUT!
NTLHOS: Chapter 57: The Fire Court's Verdict- II ! IS OUT!
NTLHOS: Chapter 58: The Crumbling Pillars is out!
NTLHOS: Chapter 59: Aftermath- The Fractured Veil IS OUT !
NTLHOS: Chapter 60: The Storm Emperor IS OUT!
NTLHOS: Chapter 61: Where id the world heading? !
NTLHOS: Chapter 62: The Great Escape is out!
NTLHOS: Chapter 63: The Bound Path And World Around IS OUT!
NTLHOS: Chapter 64- The Silence Of Wind Or Is It Life? IS OUT!
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"In the world of power and politics, appearances are often more dangerous than any blade—subtle slights, unspoken challenges, and the weight of silent expectations can cut deeper than steel."
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HAPPY READING:
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Last time on NTLHOS:
Anko's eyes widened in disbelief, her earlier poise giving way to genuine surprise. "How are you so good if it's your first time?" she asked, her tone a mixture of astonishment and admiration. She propped herself up on one elbow, studying his face for any sign of jest.
"Guess the rumors about Uzumaki men are true," she added with a playful smirk, her previous shock turning into a mix of intrigue and flirtation. The air between them was charged with a new layer of intimacy, marked by her newfound realization and the secrets just shared.
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Now:
The village of Konoha was alive with the hum of preparations, the streets filled with the bustle of noble lords gathering their entourages for the imminent journey to the Fire Court. It was a rare spectacle—a convergence of power where every move mattered, where every piece was being set into place for a game far larger than any one individual. Each lord, dignitary, and merchant prepared as though they were stepping onto a battlefield.
For some, it was a matter of pride to have a personal guard of Konoha's finest—Jonin with reputations forged in battle, names whispered in both fear and respect. It was a show of status, of power. But as Naruto watched the spectacle from a distance, his mind remained detached, his expression calm and unreadable. The storm that had shaken the village since his narrow victory at the high council had not subsided, but to Naruto, the swirling chaos outside felt distant, unimportant.
Inside, however, his thoughts were anything but calm.
Not even his recent encounter with Anko had fully grounded him. The sensations of the night, her laughter, her fire—it had all been a temporary distraction. Because now, more than ever, his mind was fixated on the next move. The real players were starting to reveal themselves, and one of them had just arrived at his doorstep.
The very next morning of the high council meeting, Jiraiya of the Sannin appeared.
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The sight of him standing at the entrance to the Uzumaki compound sent a ripple through Naruto's otherwise serene facade. The man exuded a larger-than-life presence that was impossible to ignore, his wide grin and casual stance the perfect mask for the predator that lurked beneath.
Despite what the world believed—that Orochimaru was the most dangerous and cunning of the Sannin—Naruto knew better. He had long considered Jiraiya to be the true threat, not because of his playful persona, but because of the secrets the man carried and his mastery of seals. Jiraiya was dangerous in ways few could comprehend.
Naruto's thoughts sharpened as he considered the implications of this meeting.
Jiraiya, like him, was a master of sealing techniques. Naruto's own prowess in the art might surpass Jiraiya's in certain aspects, but the inherent danger Jiraiya posed was undeniable. The Toad Sage was not a man to be underestimated. His understanding of seals ran deep, deeper than most could fathom, and in that domain, he was Naruto's natural predator. Naruto had learned techniques that few alive could comprehend, let alone execute, but Jiraiya's mastery meant he could sense, evade, and unravel even the most complex traps—including Naruto's most dangerous weapon: the Binder Mask.
The Binder was no mere tool; it was a curse, a contract etched in blood and sealed with the weight of the user's very soul. The ancient mask demanded more than just chakra or willpower—it demanded sacrifice. It required not only the binding of the enemy's body but the absolute entrapment of their spirit. To wield it was to beckon unimaginable power, but such power never came without cost.
Naruto had spent countless hours delving into the depths of forbidden scrolls, studying the lore surrounding the Binder and its predecessors. The more he learned, the more its true nature revealed itself—a horror that was as much a curse to the wielder as it was to the one it imprisoned. The mask did not simply bind its target; it exacted a terrible toll on the one who invoked it. The price? The agony of every torment, every pain, every misery ever inflicted or experienced by the any one sealed prior—experienced as though it was your own.
The pain wasn't physical alone. No, it was far worse. It was mental. Spiritual. The Binder plucked the darkest, most visceral memories of suffering from the victim's mind and soul, and then forced the user to live through them. The agony was not an echo, not a distant memory or a faint sensation. It was real—so vivid that it shattered the barrier between self and other, plunging the user into the depths of their target's worst nightmares. The wielder became the victim, living every horror, every torture inflicted or endured.
A rapist? The wielder would feel the terror of the victim, the degradation and despair. A torturer? The screams, the anguish, would flood the wielder's mind as if they themselves were on the rack. Every physical wound, every emotional scar, became theirs to bear. And it wasn't just the victim's past—it was the culmination of all their worst experiences, all the darkness they had lived or created, seared into the wielder's very soul.
Naruto remembered the warning etched into the final lines of the ancient tablets, words that had chilled him to the core:
"It is one's experiences that shape the soul. To have those experiences so fundamentally violated leaves scars that cut deeper than any blade. Beware the Binder, for its mercy is an illusion."
The toll was inescapable. The agony of the Binder was proportional to the power and sins of the one being sealed. A shinobi as twisted and monstrous as Orochimaru would have left Naruto broken, his mind shattered by the countless atrocities the Snake Sannin had committed. Torture. Experiments. Betrayals. The mask would have made Naruto relive it all, feeling every scream, every cry for mercy, as if it was happening to him.
But Orochimaru's escape had spared him— He will have to thank the snake Sanin next time they meet, Naruto joked to himself. The contract had broken before it was fully realized, and with that break, Naruto had been saved from the worst of the mask's punishment. The thought brought a cold shudder down his spine. If Orochimaru hadn't fled when he did, Naruto would have been incapacitated for months, perhaps years, locked in a prison of pain and suffering so intense that few ever recovered. Those who bound an S-rank shinobi, it was said, never emerged the same. Their souls were scarred, their minds forever haunted by the ghosts of their enemies' sins.
But Jiraiya... Jiraiya was another matter entirely.
Naruto knew that with Jiraiya's skill in seals, the Toad Sage could evade the Binder. The man's very presence was a challenge to Naruto's mastery. It wasn't just Jiraiya's physical strength or even his renowned Sage Mode if the rumours are to be believed that made him dangerous—it was his mind. His ability to understand, to counter, to escape. Danzo Shimura might have been a shadowy schemer, but Jiraiya was something far more formidable.
Danzo was ruthless and ambitious, willing to sacrifice anything and anyone for the sake of power. But Jiraiya... Jiraiya was elusive, a force of nature whose strength lay not just in his raw power but in his unpredictability. Where Danzo struck from the shadows, Jiraiya moved like the wind, impossible to pin down, always one step ahead.
He was a Lord now. The head of a clan. A force in his own right.
And if Jiraiya thought he could manipulate him, if the man thought for even a moment that Naruto was still the wide-eyed child who followed in the wake of legends—he was about to find out just how wrong he was.
Naruto's eyes narrowed slightly, his thoughts running deeper beneath the surface. If Jiraiya was here under the guise of his father's legacy, expecting to exploit the bond they might share as student and sensei, then the man was sorely mistaken. The Toad Sage may have been his father's mentor once, but Naruto had grown to understand the tangled web of allegiances that stretched between the legendary figures of Konoha. Jiraiya wasn't just his father's old master; he was also Hiruzen's student, bound to the old Hokage by loyalty and history. If the man thought he could come here, get close, and then betray him to the Third… if he imagined for even a second that Naruto would let himself be swayed by sentiment or lineage, he would be in for a rude awakening.
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With a steady breath, Naruto composed himself just as a soft knock echoed at the door. Jiraiya of the Sannin stepped into the room, larger than life, his trademark grin wide and careless, his voice booming in a way that could fill even the quietest of spaces.
"Naruto!" he called out, striking a pose as though he were some great hero returning from battle. "The gallant Jiraiya has arrived! The hero of all men, the sage of toads, the lover of beauty!"
Naruto's gaze remained steady, his face a mask of cool indifference. Behind that facade, his mind was a flurry of strategy, analysis, and quiet wariness. Jiraiya's exuberance might have fooled many, but to Naruto, it was nothing more than an act—a veil hiding the true nature of the man beneath.
"Lord Jiraiya," Naruto said as he opened the door, his voice professional, distant. "It's an honor to meet you."
Jiraiya's smile faltered for the briefest of moments, the exuberance dimming in his eyes as Naruto's formal tone settled between them like a wall. He quickly recovered, though, his grin returning in full force as he stepped into the room. But the unease remained—just beneath the surface. Jiraiya would never admit it, but he had been nervous about this meeting, and now, hearing the cold professionalism in Naruto's voice, he realized this was not the reunion he had imagined.
"Naruto…" he began, his smile fixed in place but subdued. He could feel the distance between them, and it saddened him. After all, to this boy—the son of his most cherished student—he was a stranger. In Naruto's eyes, there was no history, no connection.
Naruto gestured for Jiraiya to take a seat, and with a slight nod, the Sannin sat down across the table from him. The office felt too formal, too impersonal, and for a man like Jiraiya, who was used to more informal meetings in taverns or training grounds, the weight of the setting made it even more uncomfortable. He had never liked sitting in offices—especially not across from someone so unreadable.
The silence stretched for a moment before Naruto broke it, his tone still distant but with a subtle edge of curiosity. "May I know what brings a storied figure such as yourself to meet me, Lord Jiraiya?"
Jiraiya chuckled, trying to dispel the tension, though even he could hear the hollowness in his own laughter. "Ah, you're humble, kid. You're the rising star of Konoha now, the second most powerful man in the village, and I thought it was about time I met the man who defeated the Snake."
Naruto's expression didn't change. "I was fortunate," he replied evenly. "Orochimaru underestimated me. If he had taken me seriously from the start, the outcome would have been very different."
Jiraiya laughed again, though this time with more genuine warmth. "He was always too damn confident for his own good," he admitted, his smile fading slightly as he grew more serious. His voice dropped, and the atmosphere shifted. "But we… share a connection, Naruto. One that's more than just the village or the Sannin."
Naruto's gaze sharpened, though his face remained a mask of calm. "I've heard you were my father's mentor."
Jiraiya nodded, his eyes softening with the weight of memories. "Yes, that's true. But it's more than that." He paused, then, as if summoning his courage, said, "For lack of a better way to say it—I'm your godfather, Naruto."
The words hit like a hammer, shattering the cool detachment Naruto had carefully crafted. For a moment, he stared at Jiraiya, his mind reeling. Godfather? How had this never been mentioned? Not even Kammado had spoken of this, and he knew more about his parents than anyone. But considering the fact not even mikoto knew of his existence even before kyubi attack this should not come as surprising.
"What?" Naruto whispered, the shock evident in his voice, the only crack in his otherwise stoic demeanor.
Jiraiya winced, his expression growing more pained. "Your father… Minato made me your godfather when you were born."
Naruto's mind spun, but only for a moment. The shock passed quickly, and his usual composure returned. He straightened, his voice cold once again. "I see."
Jiraiya blinked, taken aback. He had expected something—anger, frustration, questions—but this calm acceptance was unsettling. "Wait… that's it? You're not mad at me?"
Naruto met his gaze, his expression unreadable. "You can only be angry with someone when you have expectations of them. Considering the fact that I don't know you, it would be unfair of me to expect you to have taken care of an orphan boy when the connection between us was severed the moment my father died."
Jiraiya's heart sank. The boy's logic was cold, clinical—and painfully true. He couldn't fault Naruto for feeling this way. "It's not about abandoning you," Jiraiya said, his voice low, regret threading through his words. "The elders made a deal… For your safety, I had to keep my distance. If I had tried to get involved, it would have exposed you to the Daimyo, and at that time, it was too dangerous."
Naruto studied him carefully. His expression had softened, though there was still a guardedness in his eyes. "So that's what they told you," Naruto muttered, more to himself than to Jiraiya. His thoughts raced—was this another manipulation by the council? Another part of Hiruzen's scheme to keep him hidden?
Jiraiya sighed, running a hand through his white mane of hair. "I didn't come here to make excuses, Naruto. I just wanted you to know… I'm sorry. I wasn't there when you needed someone. But I also had to trust that the village could protect you."
Naruto remained silent for a moment, then spoke, his voice calmer now. "I've heard much about you from others," he said, shifting the conversation. "But not much about my mother. What can you tell me about her?"
Nostalgia spread across Jiraiya's face.
"Kushina..." His voice, usually filled with bravado, softened as he carefully measured his words. "She was one of a kind. She had this... fire. She wasn't just strong—she was... ehmmm, passionate." Jiraiya paused, visibly struggling to find the right words, as if even now, the weight of Kushina's memory was difficult to carry. "Fierce. Stubborn." His gaze flickered, momentarily distant. "She loved you more than anything."
Naruto's patience snapped. "Cut the crap," he interrupted, his voice cold and edged with irritation. "I know who my mother was. If you've got something real to say, something I don't already know, then tell me. Don't paint a saintly picture of her just because she's gone."
Jiraiya sighed deeply, the jovial mask he so often wore slipping further. "Your mother... she was kind-hearted when she first came to the village. A fiery girl, but one with hope and warmth. That all changed after Uzushio fell. She became... withdrawn. At first, no one thought much of it. War changes people, but then, whispers began. She was accused of going beyond mission parameters, killing enemy shinobi in cold blood, and disregarding orders. I didn't know the full extent at the time, but as she rose to Jonin rank, the village began imposing restrictions on her—keeping her from leaving the village walls, supposedly for her safety. They claimed it was because she was the last Uzumaki."
He paused, the weight of his words sinking in. "It wasn't until later that I realized they were afraid of her."
Naruto's eyes narrowed. His fists tightened in his lap, though he remained silent, letting Jiraiya continue.
"She started forming alliances within the village, political coalitions. I didn't understand it at first. She had her own network, her own forces, just like Danzo who were loyal to her. Danzo wasn't the only one orchestrating things behind the scenes—your mother was doing it too. From right here in Konoha. One day, she disappeared for five days. No warning, no explanation. The village was put on high alert, stricter even than during the war. When she came back, she told no one where she'd been, but reports from southern forces said she had traveled all the way to the Mist front—the southern border."
Jiraiya's voice grew lower, darker. "She revealed herself as the Nine-Tails' Jinchūriki for the first time, fighting against the Six-Tails Jinchūriki in one of the bloodiest conflicts of the war. The southern front had requested backup against the Six-Tails, but they didn't expect her to arrive, or that she would unleash such fury. Kushina slaughtered Mist shinobi—brutally. She killed the Six-Tails' host, a man who had nearly complete control of his beast. Then, with her chains and her sword, Benihime, she tore through enemy ranks like they were nothing. She bathed in blood, cleaving enemies apart without mercy. And when she came back to Konoha, she didn't apologize. She didn't explain herself. She stood in front of the elders and told them, to their faces, that if they ever tried to stop her again, she'd kill anyone in her way. No hesitation. No exceptions."
Naruto's breath caught in his throat, though his face remained impassive. Jiraiya's words painted a picture of Kushina that was entirely foreign to him—violent, dangerous, untouchable.
"But for all her faults, she was a loving mother, I swear that." Jiraiya continued, his tone softening, now heavy with regret. "She was a force. A reckoning. No one dared cross her."
He paused, the weight of his next words evident. "Minato... he was brilliant, but it was his love—his obsession with Kushina—that grounded him and drived him for excellence, in some strange, inexplicable way. And you... you were their greatest treasure. They loved you more than anything."
Naruto's throat tightened, but he forced the emotion down. He had known some of this, of course, but hearing Jiraiya speak of it made it feel real in a way it hadn't before.
"I know some of this already," Naruto said quietly. "But nothing personal. Not like this."
Jiraiya nodded, regret filling his gaze. "I should have been there to tell you sooner. I owe you that much."
The tension in the room, which had been thick and stifling, seemed to ease—if only slightly. Naruto still didn't trust Jiraiya fully—how could he, when the man had been absent for most of his life? But for the first time, Naruto sensed that Jiraiya wasn't here out of obligation. There was no hidden agenda, no manipulation—at least not now. Jiraiya cared, in his own way, but his first loyalty would always be to Konoha. And Naruto's? Naruto's loyalties had shifted. His first priority was to his people—to his clan, to his supporters. There was a quiet clash between them—between the old and the new, between the village and the individual.
Naruto broke the silence, his tone still neutral but with an undercurrent of challenge. "Your loyalty will always be to the village first."
Jiraiya hesitated, his face conflicted, but he nodded. "Yes. But that doesn't mean I don't care about you, Naruto. You're Minato's son. And you deserve the truth. I came here today to start making things right."
Naruto's gaze remained steady, though the tension in his shoulders eased. "Then you can start by telling me everything. Everything about my parents—everything you know."
Jiraiya met Naruto's eyes, and for the first time, a fragile connection formed between them. It was tentative, built on decades of absence and the weight of shared loss, but it was there—a flicker of understanding.
He leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply as he prepared to speak. "Alright, kid," Jiraiya said softly. "Let's start with the truth."
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Naruto stood at the gates of Konoha, ready to embark on a journey that carried the weight of history, politics, and personal stakes. The air was crisp, charged with the nervous energy of anticipation. Flanked by Lord Kammado, his son Ivagin Sura, and several others from the tower, Naruto's retinue was a carefully curated group. Nono, who had been insistent on accompanying him, stood resolutely by his side, her expression unreadable. Despite Naruto's attempts to refuse her involvement—citing the dangers and the need for discretion—Nono's quiet determination had won out. Her presence had been kept a secret, a hidden card for the uncertain days ahead.
Naruto's mind was far from settled. The proposal raised during the alliance meeting, spearheaded by Lord Hatake, for all the lords to enter the capital as one unified front, had been dismissed by him. The idea was bold, reminiscent of the power that Hashirama Senju had wielded—when the First Hokage marched into the capital with sheer force and shinobi might to compel the Daimyo to support the creation of the Hidden Villages. But Naruto was no fool. They were not Hashirama Senju, and while their influence within Konoha was considerable, it did not rival the iron grip the Daimyo held over the Land of Fire.
"We are strong," Naruto had said, his voice calm yet unyielding as the discussion in the council chambers swirled with tension. "But we are not strong enough to march in defiance against the Daimyo. The power he holds over the land—over its people, its resources—is far more vast than we like to admit. We will not risk making enemies of him by attempting to show force where diplomacy is required."
The lords had grumbled, but Naruto's reasoning had won out. They would enter the capital as separate retinues, not as one collective force. It was a delicate balance—one that required tact, not brute strength.
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The journey to the capital took a full day, moving at a moderate shinobi pace. The road was lined with the remnants of autumn, leaves in deep shades of crimson and amber carpeting the earth beneath their feet. The capital, as they approached it, was imposing—a sprawling city surrounded by high walls, its presence felt long before it came into view. But it wasn't just the sheer size of the city that gave Naruto pause; it was the massive army of samurai and shinobi that encircled it. These were not Konoha shinobi. They were the personal forces of the Daimyo—men and women whose loyalties were directly tied to the royal family.
Naruto's eyes narrowed as they passed the stationed troops. No wonder the capital is so heavily guarded, he thought. After what my mother did here, the Daimyo must be terrified. His mother, Kushina Uzumaki, had once cooked the daimyo's family inside their palace by inverting the seals that were meant for protection. Rather than shielding them from harm—even against a Biju—the seals had killed everyone inside. The memory of that carnage was likely still fresh in the minds of those who ruled here. And now, with some of the most powerful shinobi in the Land of Fire converging on the capital, the Daimyo's caution was understandable.
As the gates to the capital opened, they were greeted by an older man—Lord Zahir Gibashi, head of the Guardian Twelve. Once, years ago, Zahir had welcomed Naruto with warmth, praising him for saving the Daimyo and offering him a place among the elite Guardian Twelve. But today, there was no trace of that warmth. His face was as cold as the winter winds that often swept through the capital's high walls. His voice was flat, emotionless.
"Lord Uzumaki," Zahir said, offering a curt bow. "It is an honor to have you in the capital."
Naruto's expression remained neutral, but a flicker of understanding crossed his eyes. So, this is how it is, he thought, his mind already calculating the political landscape that had shifted beneath his feet since the last time he'd been here.
"It's been a long time, Lord Zahir," Naruto replied, his tone polite, though there was a hint of steel beneath his words. "The pleasure is mine to be invited to the capital."
Zahir straightened, the lines of his face hardening. "The Daimyo has made arrangements for your stay, but only three guards will be permitted inside the palace."
Beside Naruto, Lord Kammado bristled, his face contorting with indignation. "This is unacceptable! Such restrictions cannot be placed on a fellow high noble—"
Naruto raised a hand, silencing Kammado with a calm but firm gesture. "I understand," he said evenly, his voice carrying no hint of challenge. "Kammado, Ivagin, and one other—follow me."
Zahir's eyes lingered on Naruto for a moment longer than necessary, as if trying to discern some hidden meaning behind the Uzumaki lord's compliance, but he found none. The old man simply turned and led them through the gates.
The walk to the Daimyo's palace took them along the famed Lords' Walk, a path reserved only for the most esteemed nobles. It was a corridor of opulence—each step they took was cushioned by thick, ornate rugs, woven with gold and deep crimson threads. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries that told the history of the Fire Nation—its conquests, its triumphs, and the legends of its rulers. Tall, arched windows lined the hall, allowing streams of sunlight to filter in, casting the corridor in a golden glow that made everything seem ethereal, almost dreamlike.
But Naruto knew this wasn't the true path he was meant to take.
The Lords' Walk, though grand and impressive, was not the path meant for the likes of him. The Senju, the Uchiha, the Uzumaki of old—they were meant to walk the Rulers' Path, the same path as the Daimyo himself and the other great lords of the land. It was a subtle snub, one Naruto recognized instantly. The message was clear: You may be powerful, but you are not one of us.
Still, Naruto made no fuss. He moved with the grace and composure expected of a lord, even as his eyes took in every detail of the subtle slight. The opulence of the Lords' Walk only served to remind him that in this world of politics and power, appearances were everything.
The palace loomed ahead—an architectural masterpiece of white stone, with tall spires that reached toward the heavens. Its walls were fortified, yet elegant, draped in banners bearing the symbol of the Fire Nation. The courtyard was expansive, filled with gardens meticulously maintained, the scent of jasmine and roses filling the air.
Zahir stopped at the entrance to the inner palace and turned to Naruto. "From here, you will be escorted by palace guards. The Daimyo will meet you tomorrow at the Fire Court."
Naruto inclined his head. "Very well," he said, his voice as measured as ever.
As Zahir left, Naruto stood at the threshold of the palace, the weight of what lay ahead settling on his shoulders.
The true game was about to begin.
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Stay tuned for the next chapter of NTLHOS.
Join ThirdFireTriden on Pa(tre)(on) the link is in description or type my name in google search with pat (tre) on remove the space and bracket!
NTLHOS: Chapter 55: All path shall lead to me! IS OUT!
NTLHOS: Chapter 56: The Fire Court's Verdict! IS OUT!
NTLHOS: Chapter 57: The Fire Court's Verdict- II ! IS OUT!
NTLHOS: Chapter 58: The Crumbling Pillars is out!
NTLHOS: Chapter 59: Aftermath- The Fractured Veil IS OUT !
NTLHOS: Chapter 60: The Storm Emperor IS OUT!
NTLHOS: Chapter 61: Where id the world heading? !
NTLHOS: Chapter 62: The Great Escape is out!
NTLHOS: Chapter 63: The Bound Path And World Around IS OUT!
NTLHOS: Chapter 64- The Silence Of Wind Or Is It Life? IS OUT!
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