Madara silently watches the human as they walk up the mountain dressed in only the simplest of nagajuban to cover their body. It was certainly a curious tradition, he thought.

He didn't understand how the villagers thought that sending a sacrifice up the mountain each year would appease him. Did they think he had a taste for humans? Either way, Madara didn't care, as each year, he sent the poor mortal picked for the tradition down the opposite side of the mountain towards a small town.