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Chapter Text

Chapter 1: The Daimyo of Fire

The night in the Fire Capital still carried the scent of blood.

Inside the Daimyo Manor's study, candlelight flickered faintly.

Chiba Arashi was half-reclining on a soft couch, his fingertips tapping rhythmically on the armrest.

Memories of his previous life flashed through his mind.

He was not from this world.

Sixteen years ago, he had transmigrated and become an infant.

He was the least favored illegitimate son of the Daimyo of the Land of Fire, born of a lowly maid.

In this palace, his status was no different from that of an ant.

The moment he was born and opened his eyes, a mechanical voice echoed in his mind.

[Ding!]

[Detecting host's situation: meets binding conditions.]

[Daimyo System, officially activated!]

[Mission: Clear obstacles!]

[Mission description: As a mortal, clear all obstacles to succession and ascend to the position of Daimyo of the Land of Fire!]

[Mission restriction: Before the mission is completed, the host will have no extraordinary power.]

[Mission rewards: Six Paths Sage Body! Nine-Tomoe Rinnegan!]

From that moment on, Arashi began sixteen years of patience and scheming.

He had no power and could not use chakra.

His only weapon was his mind.

He walked on thin ice, surviving in the cracks of the imperial court.

He secretly befriended disgraced retainers, supported destitute samurai, and used the knowledge of his past life to accumulate his own wealth.

He sowed discord while his legitimate elder brothers fought bitterly for the position of Crown Prince.

Meanwhile, he quietly eroded their influence from the shadows.

Sixteen years.

A full sixteen years.

He rose from an illegitimate son who could be executed at any moment to standing at the center of power, step by step.

Two months ago, the former Daimyo died of a severe illness.

For the throne, his brothers engaged in a bloody struggle.

Arashi revealed his fangs at the right time and ultimately had the last laugh, becoming the sole candidate to inherit the title of Daimyo.

When he held the national stone, the symbol of the Daimyo, the System's voice, silent for sixteen years, finally spoke again.

[Ding!]

[Congratulations, host, for completing the ultimate mission.]

[Rewards being distributed…]

At that moment, a vast divine power surged through his body.

His body was instantly reshaped, every cell filled with Chakra.

His eyes transformed into the purple Rinnegan with nine tomoe.

"Sixteen years."

Arashi opened his eyes, the purple glow flashing before reverting to black pupils.

"Sixteen years as a mortal," he murmured, a faint smile forming.

The overwhelming contrast made even him feel unreal for a moment.

But he quickly adapted.

He was still the same Chiba Arashi, used to solving problems with strategy and patience.

Now, he simply had an extra trump card.

Arashi rubbed his temples and sat upright.

On the table before him lay the recently approved budget for city defense repairs.

"My Lord, it's late, you should rest."

An old voice came from outside the door.

"Come in."

Arashi didn't look up.

The door was pushed open, and an old man entered, carrying a bowl of soup.

The old man, Gen, was a loyal retainer who had cared for Arashi since childhood.

"These are the verification reports for post-war relief funds that arrived this afternoon."

Setting the bowl on the corner of the table, Gen then took out several scrolls and neatly arranged them.

Arashi picked up the topmost one.

"Have the families in the north of the city been dealt with cleanly?"

His voice was calm.

"Reporting, My Lord, all have been dealt with cleanly," Gen said.

"Their family property has been confiscated, the principal offenders and their direct relatives charged with treason."

"The remaining branch families have been exiled to the border of the Land of Demons for three generations."

Arashi unrolled the scroll. It was filled with names, each marked with a red 'X'.

They had all chosen the wrong side.

He was never merciful to his enemies.

"There's one more matter," Gen hesitated.

"Konoha Village sent someone with a congratulatory gift, a personal letter from the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, congratulating you on your ascension."

Gen presented a letter sealed with wax.

"Oh?"

Arashi finally looked up, a faint smile curving his lips.

"Konoha moves fast, doesn't it?"

He took the letter but didn't open it right away.

Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage of Konoha Village.

A man portrayed as gentle and benevolent, but in truth, his cunning and schemes were unmatched.

As for that old dog, Danzo Shimura, hiding in the shadows beside him, he was even more ruthless and unscrupulous.

Those two would be his first obstacles in controlling the Land of Fire.

The sword known as Konoha was too sharp, sharp enough to forget who held the hilt.

"Gen, don't you think the annual funds we allocate to Konoha Village are a bit excessive?"

Gen bowed slightly. "This servant dares not speak on state matters. But... the manor's finances are indeed a bit tight."

Arashi smiled. "Yes, tight."

He stood and walked to the window.

From there, he could overlook most of the Fire Capital's night view.

"Pass on my order. Tell the Minister of Finance to come to my study tomorrow morning for a discussion."

"Yes, My Lord."

Gen answered but didn't immediately leave.

"My Lord, about the Young Miss of the Kiyotsuki Family…"

"Kiyotsuki Yui?"

A cold, proud face appeared in Arashi's mind.

The Kiyotsuki Family had been one of the main noble factions supporting his eldest brother and was annihilated in the struggle.

Yui was the only daughter of the Kiyotsuki head, renowned for her beauty and talent.

"Still on a hunger strike?"

"Yes, My Lord. She hasn't eaten or drunk for two days now," Gen said with concern.

"She swore that even if she dies, she will never serve her enemy."

"She has backbone," Arashi said simply.

He returned to the desk and opened the letter.

Its contents were the usual congratulations and declarations of loyalty.

It also mentioned that the Third Ninja World War was nearing its end, that Konoha had suffered heavy losses, and hoped the Daimyo Manor could allocate a special budget for reconstruction and ninja relief.

"They're good at calculations," Arashi muttered, tossing the letter into the candle flame and watching it burn to ash.

"They want both money and reputation. How can there be such good fortune in this world?"

Gen stayed silent.

"How are preparations for the coronation ceremony?" Arashi asked.

"They are being expedited. The first of next month is an auspicious day."

"Good, I understand."

Arashi waved his hand. "Go, bring Kiyotsuki Yui here."

"My Lord, this…" Gen hesitated.

"Her emotions are unstable right now. What if she offends you…"

"It's fine."

Arashi waved dismissively. "I want to see how strong a noble lady's resolve can be."

A quarter of an hour later, the study door opened again.

Two guards escorted a woman in a plain white kimono inside.

She was slender, pale-faced, but her back was perfectly straight.

Her long black hair was slightly disheveled.

She was Kiyotsuki Yui.

"You may leave," Arashi said.

The guards bowed and exited.

Yui glared at the man behind the desk, her eyes filled with hatred.

It was this man who had destroyed her family and taken everything from her.

"I heard you want to die?"

Arashi finished the last sip of ginseng soup and set the bowl down.

Yui stayed silent, her defiance clear.

"If you die, you'll have nothing left."

Arashi stood and walked toward her, looking down from above.

"Your father and brothers all regretted it before they died."

His voice was calm.

"You're lying! My father would never beg for mercy from someone as despicable as you!"

"Despicable?" Arashi smiled and pinched her chin.

"The winner takes all. My brothers were far more despicable when they tried to kill me. When your family handed them the knife, did you ever think this day would come?"

Yui struggled, but couldn't break free.

"Kill me!" she spat.

"Kill you?" Arashi shook his head and returned to his seat.

"That would be such a waste."

"You're beautiful. Be my maid. I think you're quite suitable."

"Dream on!" Yui screamed. "I'd rather die than suffer your humiliation!"

"Die?" Arashi laughed loudly, then tossed a dagger toward her. "Here, kill yourself."

"You…" Yui froze, trembling with anger and shock, staring at the dagger but not moving.

Seeing her hesitation, Arashi sneered. "Didn't you want to die? What's wrong? Afraid?"

"I…"

"Someone."

At his call, the guards entered again.

"Take Young Miss Kiyotsuki Yui to wash up, and make sure she's properly cleaned."

"Yes, My Lord."

The expressionless guards stepped forward.

Despair washed over Yui as they seized her arms and dragged her away.

Her struggles were weak and futile.

Silence returned to the study.

Arashi's brush hovered above the scroll, yet to touch the paper.

His consciousness sank inward, and a blue interface only he could see appeared.

[Daimyo System]

[Current Mission: Land of Fire Financial Reform (Phase One)]

[Mission Objective: Reduce Konoha Village's annual budget by 20%, and achieve preliminary control over the Land of Fire's economic lifeline.]

[Mission Reward: Unlock Talent Scan function.]

(To be continued.)

Quick Note: The MC is someone that schemes a lot. Even now that he's basically God-tier, he will rarely use his power. I mean, if he does use it to solve all problems, there's barely anything left to read. Also, he's a straight-up villain and dark-hearted, so don't complain later. If you don't mind, proceed reading : )

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Time to Teach Konoha Frugality

The night was thick and silent.

Arashi set down the scroll and stood up to stretch his limbs.

After finishing his official duties, he walked out of the study and slowly made his way toward the sleeping quarters.

The guards and maids along the corridor all bowed their heads, barely daring to breathe.

Arashi was long accustomed to such treatment, and it pleased him.

At the entrance of the sleeping quarters, two newly assigned maids stood respectfully with their hands clasped and their bodies slightly bowed.

Arashi pushed open the door and entered.

Inside, candlelight flickered, and the faint scent of incense filled the air.

A figure lay curled up on the bed, the bedding outlining the graceful curves of a woman's body.

Arashi's footsteps lightened, and a faint smile appeared on his face.

Perhaps hearing the sound, the figure on the bed visibly tensed.

Arashi walked straight to the bedside, sat down, and with a playful look, reached his hand into the bedding.

What he touched was not soft skin but the rough texture of fabric.

His smile vanished instantly, and he pulled the quilt back sharply. "You're still wearing clothes?"

Yui suddenly opened her eyes. Her gaze was filled with fear, but her expression remained stubborn.

Arashi ignored her emotions. His face darkened as he let out a cold snort. "It seems you still haven't learned how to be a maid."

"Someone!"

The door opened immediately, and the maids outside hurried in, falling to their knees and pressing their foreheads to the cold floor.

"I told you to teach her the rules!"

Arashi pointed at Yui, his voice carrying suppressed anger. "Didn't you teach her?"

"T-this…" The maid trembled violently, repeatedly bowing her head.

Arashi frowned, his patience thinning. "Take her away and teach her again. Make her understand what a maid's duty is."

He paused, his tone dropping lower.

"If she still hasn't learned by this time tomorrow, you will be held responsible."

The maid quickly nodded. "Y-yes, My Lord! I will definitely teach her properly!"

Arashi turned slightly, and the maid immediately scrambled up, rushed to the bed, and grabbed Yui's arm. No matter how she struggled, she was forcibly dragged out of the sleeping quarters.

The hall door closed behind them, cutting off her cries.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the study windows, casting soft shadows across the floor.

Arashi finished reviewing several reports and was slowly sipping his tea.

"Lord Tanaka requests an audience, Lord Daimyo," Gen announced from outside.

"Let him in."

Soon, a slightly overweight middle-aged man entered briskly. His name was Tanaka Shigeru, an old minister of the Land of Fire.

Tanaka bowed respectfully. "May Lord Daimyo be in good health."

"Sit," Arashi said, setting down his cup.

"Thank you, Lord."

Tanaka sat carefully, occupying only half the chair, his posture humble.

After a few formalities, Arashi said, "Last night, the Third Hokage of Konoha sent a letter."

Tanaka asked, "What did it say?"

Arashi toyed with the cup lid, his tone even. "The letter was very touching. First, it congratulated me on my succession, then it reminisced about the long-standing friendship between Konoha and the Daimyo Manor, and finally, it made a small request."

Tanaka's eyelids twitched.

A "small" request mentioned by the Daimyo himself could not be small.

"What does the Third Hokage mean?"

"His meaning is that in this great war, Konoha made great contributions but also suffered heavy losses. The Village lies in ruins, awaiting reconstruction," Arashi said indifferently.

"So, he hopes the Daimyo Manor can provide an additional budget for post-war rebuilding."

Tanaka's face turned bitter, and he immediately protested, "My Lord, that is absolutely impossible!"

"The national treasury is emptier than my hair! Suppressing the rebellion already drained our reserves. Reconstruction efforts and compensations all require funds! We have nothing left to give!"

"Oh?" Arashi raised an eyebrow. "Is it that serious?"

"Even more so, My Lord!"

"Bring Konoha's account books for me to see."

Tanaka had come prepared. He hurriedly presented a thick ledger with both hands.

Arashi took it, flipping through swiftly, scanning several lines at a time.

The figures inside were staggering.

Procurement of weapons, ninja mission subsidies, casualty compensation, infrastructure construction, research and development… These expenditures consumed one-third of the Land of Fire's annual budget.

During the Third Great Ninja War, that share had even risen to half.

Arashi's expression darkened. He shut the ledger with a dull thud.

"So much?"

Cold sweat formed on Tanaka's forehead as he explained, "Konoha is, after all, our military shield. Without their efforts at the frontlines all these years, we…"

Arashi smiled faintly.

"Tanaka, I ask you—Konoha is important, but are the other citizens of the Land of Fire not important?"

"During wartime, I can understand high military expenses."

"But now, the Third Raikage is dead, Iwagakure is weakened, Sunagakure has submitted, and Kirigakure is caught in internal strife. The war is nearly over."

"Instead of reducing spending, he wants even more funds? What kind of logic is that?"

Tanaka hesitated, speechless. "Then… does My Lord intend to reject it outright?"

Arashi waved his hand. "Rejecting it would appear too harsh. The Third is respected and has rendered great service to the Land of Fire. We can't be so heartless."

Tanaka looked confused.

Arashi's smile deepened. "Not only can we not reject it, we must actively help him."

"Help him and help Konoha Village learn what frugality means."

He raised two fingers.

"Starting next quarter, Konoha's annual budget will be reduced by two-tenths."

"Two… two-tenths?!"

Tanaka nearly leapt from his chair. "My Lord, that's impossible! That's an enormous cut! Konoha will never agree! The Third Hokage…"

"He will agree," Arashi interrupted calmly.

He stood and patted Tanaka's shoulder.

"The treasury is struggling after the war. For the sake of the Land of Fire's recovery, everyone must share the burden. Konoha, as part of the Land of Fire, should set an example. I'm sure the Third will understand."

Tanaka's face turned pale as sweat ran down his cheeks.

He understood perfectly.

This was about establishing authority, using Konoha as an example to warn others.

"But Konoha…"

"With such heavy losses in this war, I'm already being generous by not holding them accountable."

Arashi sat back down. "The Third is a wise man. He knows what choice to make."

"It's settled. Draft a new financial budget for me."

"Yes, My Lord." Tanaka bowed deeply.

"Go, and make the official document sound sincere."

"Yes!"

Tanaka withdrew, his steps unsteady.

Silence returned to the study.

Arashi's expression was calm. The first move had been made.

Even without a System mission, Konoha would have been his first target.

As a Daimyo, how could he allow the blade to be held in someone else's hand?

Power and authority must never be entrusted to others.

Just then, Gen's voice sounded from outside the door.

"My Lord."

"Enter."

Gen pushed open the door and bowed. "My Lord, a Konoha ninja requests an audience. He says he's on orders from the Third Hokage to deliver a detailed report on the great war."

"A Konoha ninja?"

Arashi looked slightly surprised. "Who is it?"

"He calls himself Yuhi Shinku."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 3: Konoha’s Performance Report

Yuhi Shinku.

Hearing that name, Arashi immediately thought of another person.

Kurenai.

Konoha's future genjutsu master, Asuma's wife, a woman possessing both maturity and a strong will.

Interesting.

Sending a letter, then sending a messenger, tsk tsk…

"Let him in."

Arashi's voice was calm.

Moments later, footsteps sounded, and a man entered the study.

He wore Konoha's standard vest, his figure tall and upright, though the faint scent of blood on him could not be hidden.

He must have just returned from the battlefield.

"Konoha Jonin, Yuhi Shinku, greets Daimyo-sama."

The man bowed with perfect etiquette, but his posture still carried the pride of an elite ninja.

It was the confidence forged in mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

"No need for formalities."

Arashi's gaze swept over him.

His strength was decent, his Chakra reserves full, and his mental energy refined.

A qualified ninja.

Unfortunately, before him, he was nothing more than an ant.

"Where is the report? Bring it."

"Yes, Lord."

Shinku stepped forward, presenting a thick scroll with both hands.

"The report details Konoha's casualties, material expenditures, and strategic assessments from this war. Please review it, Daimyo-sama."

Gen stepped forward, received the scroll respectfully, and placed it on Arashi's desk.

Arashi didn't open it immediately. He lightly tapped the scroll with his finger.

"You've worked hard."

"To survive such a brutal battlefield, you are a hero of Konoha."

"And a meritorious subject of the Land of Fire."

His tone was warm and courteous, like a gentle spring breeze.

Shinku quickly bowed. "To serve the Land of Fire is the duty of a Konoha ninja."

"Well said."

Arashi nodded approvingly, then unrolled the report.

The Battle of Kikyo Pass.

The Kannabi Bridge Battle.

One after another, battle names appeared, followed by cold, emotionless casualty numbers.

Each number represented a vibrant life, a shattered family.

Senju Hashirama, your naivety killed them all.

"It's tragic," Arashi murmured as he rolled the scroll shut.

"Konoha's ninjas have paid a heavy price for the Land of Fire."

Seeing the opportunity, Shinku spoke earnestly. "My Lord is wise. It is precisely for this reason that the Third Hokage sincerely asks the Daimyo Manor for assistance."

He paused, lowering his voice.

"The Village has sacrificed countless ninjas. Their families need compensation, the wounded need treatment, and the homes destroyed by war must be rebuilt. All of this requires funds. I implore Daimyo-sama to understand Konoha's difficulties."

Here it comes.

Arashi sneered inwardly.

"Jonin Shinku, I understand your purpose, and I have already read the Third's letter."

He shifted the topic smoothly, pushing the scroll forward.

"But it seems you have misunderstood something."

"This report is not a record of Konoha's merits or a petition for rewards."

"It is a performance report, detailing how Konoha has fulfilled its duties to the Land of Fire."

Shinku's pupils shrank sharply.

Arashi's tone wasn't loud, but his words struck like a hammer.

"Do you think the funds the Daimyo Manor allocates to Konoha are insufficient? Or have you used them for your own comfort during peacetime, and now come asking for more?"

"You must understand, that money pays for your sacrifices in war, it pays for every casualty on this report."

"You have shed blood, and the Land of Fire has not treated you unjustly."

Arashi stood, walking around the desk until he stood before him, looking down from above.

"My brothers emptied the treasury in their struggle for power, that was my family's affair."

"I quelled the rebellion and drained the finances, that was state business."

"And now, you come to me, bringing what should be a duty report, demanding more compensation?"

"Jonin Shinku, tell me—why?"

"Or do you think the lives of ninja are worth more than the tens of thousands of civilians displaced and starving in the flames of war?"

Each word pierced deeper than the last.

Shinku opened his mouth, but no words came out.

All explanations suddenly felt meaningless.

Their achievements were reduced to mere duty.

Konoha's sacrifices, dismissed as transactions.

This man simply didn't place Konoha on an equal footing.

Were ninja merely tools?

A chill ran down Shinku's spine.

"I… understand."

After a long silence, he bowed deeply.

"I will report My Lord's words to Hokage-sama."

"Mm."

Arashi nodded, expression unreadable. He didn't care what Konoha's response would be.

Whether they were angry or silent.

If they dared to provoke him, he would crush them without hesitation.

Once Shinku stepped back, Arashi's expression softened. Compassion replaced the cold authority from moments before.

"The dead are gone; what we can do now is protect the living."

"In this great war, Konoha lost too many pillars. I truly grieve for them."

His tone grew gentle.

"Especially genjutsu ninja. Their strength can often decide victory through subtlety. Losing even one is a great loss for the Land of Fire."

"Does Konoha's next generation have any promising talents to inherit your will?"

The sudden shift in tone caught Shinku off guard.

After a brief pause, he replied instinctively, "To answer My Lord, among the younger generation, there are indeed several talented children."

"Oh?"

Arashi's eyes lit with mild interest. "For those talented in genjutsu, I have high expectations."

Shinku's face brightened slightly.

He said with pride, "My daughter, Kurenai, has shown some talent in genjutsu. She's already listed by the Village as a key training target."

"Kurenai…"

Arashi repeated the name softly, smiling. "A fine name. How old is she now? Has she been on the battlefield?"

Shinku replied, "My daughter is sixteen this year and has already experienced battle."

Arashi's tone softened with apparent sympathy. "A sixteen-year-old girl on the battlefield… how tragic."

"Tell the Third that heroes bleed on the front lines, and the Land of Fire will never let their families shed tears behind them."

"For outstanding ninjas like Jonin Shinku, the cultivation of their descendants should indeed be prioritized."

Shinku looked up suddenly, stunned.

What did he just hear?

Humiliation, suppression, and then… reward?

"I will allocate a special fund for genius cultivation to Konoha starting next quarter."

"I hope your daughter and other gifted youths will receive the support they deserve."

"Thank you, My Lord." Shinku's tone was filled with gratitude.

"Good. You've endured a long and tiring journey."

Arashi waved dismissively. "I've received the report. You may return."

He added casually, "Since you're already here, don't leave so soon. Walk around the capital, see the post-war reconstruction, and understand the people's lives."

"Yes!"

Shinku bowed deeply, then turned and left.

Only after walking out of the Daimyo Manor and feeling the cool evening breeze did he realize his back was drenched in cold sweat.

Meeting this young Daimyo was more exhausting than facing enemies on the battlefield.

That invisible pressure had nearly suffocated him.

So, this is what true power feels like.

Inside the study, Arashi toyed with the brush in his hand, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Hiruzen Sarutobi, do you think sending an elite Jonin would test me?

You'll soon learn that I won't just cut your budget. I'll take your talents too.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Arashi returned to his documents.

Establishing a new order required absolute patience.

Time passed quietly. The moon rose high in the night sky.

Gen entered silently to replace the candles, his movements light and precise.

"My Lord, it's late."

"Mm."

Arashi didn't look up.

Only after finishing the last document did he exhale deeply.

Continuous work had finally taken its toll, leaving a trace of fatigue.

Suddenly, that pale, stubborn face from yesterday appeared in his mind.

He wondered if, after a day of "teaching," that hard bone had finally been broken.

Arashi stood, a hint of anticipation in his eyes, and walked slowly toward the sleeping quarters.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 4: Do You Regret Going Against Me?

Arashi returned to his bedchamber, where candles still burned brightly and incense smoke coiled gently upward.

Upon entering, he saw Yui lying alone on the bed.

He removed his outer robe and tossed it casually to a maid standing in the corner, then walked slowly toward the bed.

His footsteps were quiet, yet Yui's body tensed up, curling into a smaller shape.

"My Lord…"

Her voice trembled, faintly pleading.

Arashi stood by the bed, looking down at her silhouette.

"Mm."

He responded indifferently, his tone devoid of warmth.

"This time, you're not wearing anything, are you?"

The words struck like a slap, making Yui's body tremble.

"N-no," she whispered, her voice almost inaudible.

Arashi said nothing further. He reached into the bedding, and his fingertips brushed against soft, smooth skin.

Only then did he pull his hand back in satisfaction, nodding slightly. "Sit up."

His tone was calm but firm.

Yui froze, her mind going blank.

Sit up? Wouldn't that mean…

"Don't make me repeat myself."

Arashi's tone deepened slightly.

Fear ultimately won over shame.

Yui moved stiffly, biting her lip until it bled, two streams of tears slipping silently down her face.

Arashi watched her quietly, his gaze steady.

Yui took a deep breath, pushing herself up with trembling arms. The silk quilt slid from her shoulders, pooling around her waist, revealing her graceful figure.

Her head hung low, eyes tightly shut, long black hair falling forward to hide her face.

This was her last bit of resistance.

Time ticked by slowly.

The expected nightmare never came.

That man merely watched, doing nothing.

At last, Yui couldn't help but look up.

Their eyes met.

His dark gaze made her heart pound violently.

Startled, she lowered her head again, her breath unsteady.

Arashi leaned back against the headboard, resting one leg lazily on her thigh.

"Massage my leg."

He spoke as if giving an order.

Yui froze again.

After a long hesitation, she extended a trembling hand and placed it gently on his leg, beginning to massage.

Perhaps unused to such labor, her movements were light and without strength.

"Use more force," Arashi said indifferently, eyes closed.

At his words, Yui bit her lip harder and pressed down slightly.

Tears fell one by one, darkening the brocade quilt.

She had once been the pride of the Fire Capital, admired by countless noble heirs, the beloved daughter of her clan.

When had she ever endured such humiliation?

Arashi felt no sympathy at all.

Instead, he found this scene beautiful.

A proud rose, stripped of its thorns, to be handled and reshaped at his will.

That sense of crushing something radiant and remolding it completely to his own design brought a strange satisfaction to his heart.

In the candlelight, he opened his eyes and studied the woman before him.

He had to admit, Yui was beautiful.

Her skin was fair as snow, her features delicate, and even in humiliation, her cool temperament hadn't completely faded. The vulnerability only added to her fragile charm.

Her reputation in the Fire Capital had not been exaggerated.

Arashi reached out, tucking her loose hair behind her ear, revealing her tear-stained face.

"Do you regret it?"

His tone was soft, but the question struck her heart like a hammer.

He was referring to the Kiyotsuki Family's fateful decision.

When his brothers had fought for the position of Daimyo, the Kiyotsuki Family had remained neutral at first.

It was Yui herself who had persuaded her father to side with Arashi's elder brother—for love.

At the time, she had believed she was choosing the future Daimyo.

She had thought this illegitimate younger brother was nothing but an ant trying to stop a carriage.

Now, it all seemed absurd.

The touch of his hand made Yui shudder again.

She did not answer. Her head remained bowed, her hands continuing to massage his leg mechanically.

The tears flowing down her face already told him everything.

Regret?

Yes, bitter regret.

Seeing her silence, Arashi didn't press further. He withdrew his hand.

"Go, close the window."

His tone was calm.

In the corner, a maid who had been trying to remain invisible quickly straightened up and prepared to move.

"I wasn't talking to you," Arashi said coldly.

The maid froze and hurriedly backed away into the shadows.

Yui's movements stopped again. She remained motionless, as if she hadn't heard.

Arashi didn't rush her. He simply reclined, waiting quietly.

The air felt heavy and still.

After a long silence, Yui finally pulled her hands away.

She slowly stood up. The quilt slipped away, and the delicate flower bloomed unguarded under the candlelight.

Without saying a word, she walked barefoot toward the window.

One step.

Two steps.

Each one was unbearably heavy.

Outside, the moonlight was faint, and the stars glittered like frost.

It was beautiful.

She stared blankly at the view, as if seeing everything she had once lost.

Then, she reached out her hands.

Click.

A soft sound echoed.

That window, through which the starlight shone, was gently closed by her own hands.

Morning came.

Sunlight streamed through the window into the bedchamber.

Yui opened her eyes but didn't move.

Beside her, the bed was empty except for a faint trace of warmth.

Perhaps she had tossed and turned in her sleep, as the bedding was messy.

She stared blankly at the ornate canopy above her, her eyes hollow.

The door creaked open, and a maid entered carrying toiletries.

Seeing that Yui was awake, the maid quickly knelt. "Young Miss, you're awake."

If it had been yesterday, Yui might have reprimanded her or ordered her out.

But today, she simply rose quietly, allowing the maid to help her wash and comb her hair.

She said nothing, her face expressionless, like a puppet.

Overnight, the once-proud daughter of the Kiyotsuki Family seemed to have lost her soul.

Meanwhile, in the study, Arashi had finished reviewing a pile of urgent documents.

He stood before a large map, his gaze fixed on the area marked Konoha, deep in thought.

A twenty-percent budget cut was only the beginning.

What he truly wanted was to bring Konoha completely under his control.

How would Hiruzen react?

When he first rose to power, didn't he rely heavily on my foolish father?

Arashi smiled faintly, the curve of his lips vanishing as quickly as it appeared.

"Someone."

"My Lord." Gen appeared silently at the doorway.

"Issue an order. From today onward, Kiyotsuki Yui will serve as my personal maid."

"She will be responsible for tea service in my study."

A flicker of surprise passed through Gen's eyes, but he quickly lowered his head.

"Yes, My Lord."

Arashi turned back toward the window, watching the sun rise over the Fire Capital.

The best way to tame a wild horse was not to lock it away.

It was to place a bridle on it, keep it close, and remind it constantly who its master was.

Yui was no exception.

And neither was Konoha.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 5: The Fire Capital’s Banquet of Blades

Inside the study, the faint scent of sandalwood filled the air.

Arashi leaned back in his chair, eyes closed in rest.

Yui knelt beside him, awkwardly brewing tea.

She was dressed in a simple maid's uniform, her former grace and arrogance gone. Only a pale, expressionless face and hollow eyes remained.

Boiling water poured into the teapot. Steam rose, carrying a light aroma of tea.

She discarded the first brew, refilled the pot, and carefully poured the tea into a cup, offering it to him with both hands.

Throughout the entire process, she didn't say a single word—her silence was almost frightening.

Arashi didn't open his eyes.

"Gen."

"Your subordinate is here."

Gen, waiting by the door, immediately responded.

"Go summon Lord Tanaka of the Ministry of Finance, Lord Ito of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, and Kawachi-no-kami, Yamashiro-no-kami… all of them."

Arashi listed several names in a calm tone.

Yui's hand trembled slightly as she held the cup.

Those were all high-ranking nobles and old ministers of the Fire Capital.

During the succession struggle, most had remained neutral, while some had secretly supported her would-be husband, Arashi's late elder brother.

Was this a reckoning?

"Yes, My Lord."

Gen bowed and left.

Only then did Arashi open his eyes, taking the cup and blowing gently on the tea.

"The tea is good," he said casually, glancing at her.

Yui's shoulders tensed even further, her head lowering until it nearly touched the floor.

Half an hour later.

In the Daimyo Manor's Council Hall, more than a dozen officials and nobles stood in neat rows. The air was heavy, their expressions grave.

No one dared to sit.

Whispers filled the air. Unease showed plainly on every face.

"Why did Lord Daimyo summon us so suddenly?"

"I don't know… Everyone here seems to—"

"Quiet! Don't speak carelessly!"

Tanaka Shigeru, Minister of Finance, stood at the front, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

He knew better than anyone how ruthless the new Daimyo's methods were.

Suddenly, a steady rhythm of footsteps echoed from outside.

All conversation stopped.

Arashi, flanked by guards, entered the Council Hall.

He wore a black robe embroidered with gold patterns that shimmered faintly under the light, adding an air of composed authority to his refined features.

He didn't take the main seat. Instead, he stopped in the middle of the hall, his calm gaze sweeping across the room.

Everyone he looked at quickly lowered their head.

"My Lords, you are the pillars of my Land of Fire," Arashi began, his voice even yet commanding.

"I invited you here today because I need your help with a few matters."

He clapped his hands.

Gen entered, leading two guards carrying a large wooden box.

Thud.

The heavy box landed with a dull sound that made everyone's heart tighten.

"Open it."

The lid was lifted.

Inside was a pile of scrolls and ledgers.

At first, the ministers only looked on curiously.

But when a few scrolls slipped, revealing familiar handwriting and family crests, the color drained from their faces.

Tanaka Shigeru froze.

He stared at a blue-covered ledger with a tea stain on the corner, it was the false account he had forged himself.

Next to him, Minister Ito spotted a personal letter—his own handwriting—pledging "full support" to the late Daimyo's eldest son.

Kawachi-no-kami felt his knees buckle. He saw a mining report detailing falsified production numbers, signed by him and one of the executed traitors.

Each man saw his own doom staring back at him.

Silence fell.

The hall was filled only with the sound of ragged breathing and chattering teeth.

Cold sweat drenched their fine robes.

The wooden box before them no longer looked like a box, it was a coffin prepared for them.

In that suffocating silence, Arashi's calm voice cut through the air.

"My Lords, what is the matter?"

He scanned the crowd, feigning concern. "You all look unwell. Is someone ill?"

His feigned gentleness was sharper than any blade.

He knew everything and he wanted them to know that he knew.

Tanaka Shigeru finally collapsed to his knees, trembling.

"Your subject… is guilty!"

His cry broke the silence like shattering glass.

"Lord Daimyo, please spare us!"

"We were momentarily blinded, My Lord! Have mercy!"

One after another, they knelt, their voices shaking, begging for forgiveness.

The great hall dissolved into chaos.

Arashi stood silently, watching their pathetic display, a faint smirk on his lips.

"Silence!" Gen barked.

The hall fell quiet again. Heads remained bowed low.

"All of you, rise," Arashi said flatly. "These items were taken from the estates of my late brothers during the rebellion."

He picked up a random scroll from the box and weighed it in his hand.

"I haven't looked inside yet. I suppose there's nothing important."

He turned, tossing the scroll casually back into the box.

"Gen, bring a brazier."

"Yes."

A large copper brazier was quickly brought in.

Under the stunned gazes of the ministers, Arashi motioned to the guards.

"Pour it all in. Burn it."

The guards obeyed, tilting the box over the flames.

Whoosh.

Scrolls and ledgers tumbled into the fire, the blaze roaring to life.

The flames reflected off Arashi's composed, elegant face.

"I am not one to dwell on the past," he said clearly, his voice steady above the crackling fire.

"Let the past burn clean, like this flame."

"I have not read what was inside, and no one will ever mention it again."

"But remember, such things must never happen again."

He turned, sweeping his gaze across the room.

"I only care about the future. From this day onward, your loyalty belongs to me alone."

"Those who create value for me will receive everything they desire."

"Do you all understand?"

As his words echoed, Tanaka Shigeru's expression shifted from terror to elation.

He fell to his knees again, tears streaming down his face.

"Your subject, Tanaka Shigeru, swears eternal loyalty to Lord Daimyo! I will serve without hesitation!"

"Your subjects swear eternal loyalty to Lord Daimyo!"

The others followed, their cries merging into a chorus that shook the hall.

At that moment, all hesitation, all pretense of independence, vanished.

Only reverence and fear remained.

This young Daimyo had burned away their sins and bound their souls in one stroke.

From this day forward, their lives belonged to him.

Arashi watched them with satisfaction, mentally sorting through a list of trusted names.

He could have executed these men to make an example of them, but what then?

Without these seasoned officials, who would manage the nation?

Letting hotheaded samurai handle finance and infrastructure? The Land of Fire would collapse in months.

No, they had to live and serve him faithfully.

Once his new generation of loyalists was ready, these old dogs would have no value left.

For now, killing them was the lesser path.

Controlling their hearts was the true way.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 6: Carrots, Sticks, and a Very Big Pie

The flames in the brazier gradually weakened, leaving only scarlet embers that occasionally burst with a spark.

In the council hall, the waves of allegiance had not yet settled, and the smell of charred wood still lingered.

Arashi's sneer faded, replaced by a gentle smile.

Looking at the ministers kneeling on the ground, faces showing the relief of surviving a disaster, Arashi said, "Rise. You are the pillars of the Land of Fire. There is no need for such a grand bow."

His voice was not loud, but it instantly calmed the restless crowd.

"Thank you, Lord Daimyo!"

Tanaka Shigeru and the others stood shakily. Their backs stayed slightly bent, and none dared meet Arashi's eyes.

The sight of that burning brazier had seared itself into their minds.

Arashi did not return to the main seat. He paced to the center of the hall and stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

Then he sighed.

The sigh was soft, but it made the ministers' hearts jump to their throats.

"My lords," Arashi said with a trace of sorrow, "my few useless elder brothers nearly emptied the treasury for the sake of a false reputation."

"Stabilizing internal strife, appeasing the territories, and rebuilding the capital will cost a fortune."

He paused, letting his gaze sweep over them.

"Just yesterday, Lord Tanaka even told me the treasury is cleaner than his hair."

Tanaka shuddered, nearly dropping to his knees again. "Your subject was only making a comparison. Your subject deserves punishment!"

"No, you are right," Arashi said, waving for him to relax, though worry deepened on his face.

"Now the war is about to end, tens of thousands of soldiers await pensions, displaced civilians wait to be resettled, the ruins await reconstruction, and money is needed everywhere."

"These past few days, I have slept poorly because of money."

His words were filled with helplessness.

The ministers exchanged glances.

He is asking for money.

Then again, this Daimyo, for all his thunderous methods, did inherit a wreck.

And every person present had contributed, more or less, to that wreck.

As Minister of Finance, Tanaka knew the treasury best. He clenched his jaw and stepped forward first.

He knelt again. "Lord Daimyo worries for the country. How can your subjects stand by?"

"Your subject, Tanaka Shigeru, is willing to share Your Lordship's burden and donate seventy percent of his family property to replenish the national treasury."

The hall was stunned.

Seventy percent.

That was the Tanaka clan's wealth accumulated over a century.

Had he gone mad?

In an instant, the ministers understood.

This was not madness. This was loyalty.

He was using money to buy his life, to buy his clan's future.

That fire had just burned away the evidence of their crimes.

Now it was time to pay for absolution.

"Your subject, Masashi Ito, is willing to donate seventy percent of his family property to share Your Lordship's burden."

"Your subject, Kawachi Mori, is willing to donate all earnings from the three iron mines in his territory for the next ten years."

"Your subject…"

For a moment, the hall resounded with pledges of donation.

It was like an auction of loyalty. Whoever spoke slow, whoever gave less, was disrespectful to the Daimyo.

Yui stood in the corner, watching this absurd yet real scene, her heart unsettled.

One fire, a few words, and those miserly old foxes were emptying their coffers.

Such methods were terrifying.

Arashi listened quietly. The worry on his face eased, though his brows remained slightly furrowed.

In his heart, he sneered.

A bunch of fools.

Do I need your money like this?

If I wished, a single thought could wipe out your wealth and your lives together.

A thought flashed through his mind. Arashi lifted his hand, pressing down lightly. "Good. I appreciate your intentions."

He sighed, his expression turning complicated.

"State affairs are difficult. I should not ask you to spend so much. But for now, this is the only path."

"It is just that…"

"Money alone is not enough."

Their hearts tightened again.

There is more?

Arashi paced a few steps, then said slowly, "After this war, I found many positions in the court overstaffed and inefficient."

"Some hold multiple posts, occupying seats yet accomplishing nothing."

"If this continues, the country will cease to be a country."

He stopped and looked at several old ministers who held real power.

"I plan to streamline the court."

"Eliminate useless departments, merge redundant posts, and promote capable young people."

"You are pillars of the nation, experienced and knowledgeable. You must understand this."

"Why not help me compile a list?"

"See which subordinates are old and should retire, and which posts do not actually need so many people."

Those words shook them more than the demand for donations.

Losing money was painful enough.

But this—this was like tearing away the foundations they had built with their own hands.

Those posts and people were the foundations and wings they had built over decades.

Cut their own?

Whoever moved first would lose their base.

It was worse than death.

Silence fell again.

Heads lowered. No one dared speak first.

The air congealed.

A faint smile touched Arashi's lips, then vanished.

The time was right.

The carrot would now appear.

He laughed suddenly, breaking the silence. "Haha, look at how frightened you are."

"Would I really make you cut off your own arms?"

He walked to Tanaka, personally helped him up, and patted his shoulder, his manner warm.

"Your efforts for the country today, I have seen and taken to heart."

"You are my meritorious subjects. I am too busy rewarding merits, how would I punish faults?"

He looked around and raised his voice. "The list can wait. But there is something we must do now."

"I have decided to use the treasury and your donations to launch the Land of Fire's Three-Year Revitalization Plan."

"First, we will rebuild war-torn towns, repair the roads, and dredge the rivers."

"Within this, there are countless opportunities, countless benefits."

Arashi's voice carried weight.

"These projects will not be given to outsiders."

"I will prioritize them for my most trusted subjects, for those of you standing here who are willing to face hardship with the Land of Fire."

"What you have lost, I will let you earn back a hundredfold, a thousandfold."

"I will make the Land of Fire prosperous and strong, and I will make my meritorious subjects the wealthiest, most honored people on this land."

Silence.

Then the ministers' breathing quickened, and their eyes turned red.

They looked at Arashi with fervor.

This Daimyo had first crushed their pride with ruthless force, then erased their leverage in one stroke, seized their wealth, and tightened his grip on their power.

Finally, he painted a reward so vast it defied imagination.

A pull, a strike, then a sweet date.

"Your subjects are willing to follow Lord Daimyo through fire and storm, without hesitation!"

"For the Daimyo, through any peril, without hesitation!"

They knelt with true conviction.

The roar of allegiance rose like a tidal wave, nearly lifting the roof.

Arashi watched with satisfaction.

Fear and greed are the two most useful reins in this world.

Now, he held them both in his hands.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 7: Konoha Sends Back a “Nope”

In the afternoon, Konoha was peaceful and serene.

The smoke of war had not yet dissipated, but reconstruction had already begun.

Everyone in Konoha knew the Village had lost much of its vitality in this war.

Even so, the will to live had already helped the Village recover a measure of life.

Yuhi Shinku stepped through the Village gate, his footsteps unwavering.

The news of budget cuts weighed on his chest like a stone.

The image of that young Daimyo, those calm eyes, lingered in his mind.

He hurried straight to the Hokage Building.

Hokage Office.

Smoke filled the air.

The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, sat behind his desk, puffing on his pipe, his brow deeply furrowed.

In front of him was a mountain of post-war reports and compensation lists.

Utatane Koharu and Homura Mitokado, the two Elder Advisors, sat on either side, their expressions grim.

In the shadows of the corner, Shimura Danzo leaned on his cane, silent.

The atmosphere was heavy.

"Still no news?" Homura asked first, impatient.

"Judging by the time, Yuhi Shinku should be back soon," Hiruzen said, setting down the scroll and rubbing his temples.

He was not worried that the request for an additional budget would be rejected.

No previous Daimyo had refused Konoha on such matters.

Konoha was the shield of the Land of Fire, and the cost of maintaining the shield was necessary.

This time, sending Yuhi Shinku was to submit a war report and also to gauge the new Daimyo's attitude.

A sixteen-year-old who seized power through bloodshed would not have ordinary temperament or methods.

But he was young, after all.

As long as Konoha presented itself as a meritorious servant and offered some appeasement, there should not be a big problem.

Knock, knock.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in."

The door opened, and a dust-covered Shinku walked in. His face was full of fatigue, his expression was complicated.

"Hokage-sama, honorable Advisors."

"You're back. You've worked hard," Hiruzen said with a gentle smile. "How did it go? What did the Daimyo say?"

Everyone's gaze fell on Shinku.

He stood straight but did not answer immediately.

His Adam's apple bobbed, as if organizing his words.

He looked up, met their gazes, and spoke with difficulty.

"Hokage-sama, the Daimyo Manor rejected the request for an additional budget."

The office fell silent.

Although they had anticipated this outcome, hearing it firsthand still made their faces sink.

Homura asked in disbelief, "Rejected? Why? So many died in the Village. Does the Daimyo not see it?"

Koharu said coldly, "What does the Daimyo want? To use Konoha to establish authority as soon as he takes office?"

Hiruzen did not speak. He took a slow puff on his pipe, his face hazy behind the smoke.

Things were likely not that simple.

In the shadows, Danzo's single eye flashed coldly.

"Yuhi Shinku, tell us the meeting in detail, word for word," Hiruzen said, voice calm.

"Yes."

Shinku steadied himself and recounted the meeting exactly.

From Arashi defining the war report as a performance review, to the soul-piercing question, "Are the lives of ninja more noble than those of civilians?"

And finally, the seemingly benevolent special fund for genius cultivation.

When he finished, the office grew even heavier.

Homura and Koharu were shocked.

Those arguments were airtight.

He stood on the side of justice, turning Konoha's merits into its duties.

He twisted Konoha's request for compensation into competing with the people for profit.

What a cunning tactic.

Could these words really come from a sixteen-year-old?

"Not only that…"

Shinku's voice tightened. "Before I left, I heard the Daimyo Manor is undergoing financial reform…"

"The Daimyo ordered that, starting next quarter, the Village's annual budget will be cut."

"What?!"

This time, even Hiruzen could not remain seated.

He looked up sharply, his eyes flaring.

Not only deny the additional request, but cut the existing budget as well?

"How much was cut?"

From the shadows, Danzo's voice was cold.

"Two… two-tenths."

Boom.

The number made everyone's heads buzz.

Two-tenths.

This was no small sum.

Ninja compensation, treatment for the injured, development of new ninja tools, maintenance of the Village's defense system… which did not require funding?

With that cut, the already strained Village would face serious operational difficulties.

Homura cried, "He's crazy! He wants to destroy Konoha! He is shaking the foundation of the Land of Fire!"

Danzo stepped out of the shadows, his cane striking the floor with urgent weight. "Cut two-tenths? On what grounds? How dare he?"

"What does he think ninja are? Tools to be measured by money?"

"We bled and sacrificed for the Land of Fire, and this is the humiliation we receive?"

"Hiruzen, we cannot tolerate this!"

"This brat is declaring war on us! We must teach him a lesson!"

Koharu echoed sharply, "That's right! We must make him retract the order!"

"Once the budget is cut, turmoil in the Village is inevitable, and our deterrence against other ninja villages will drop sharply."

"Do not forget, Kumo is still watching us like a tiger eyeing its prey!"

Emotions ran high in the office.

"Everyone, calm down!" Hiruzen snapped.

After the initial shock, he forced himself to settle.

He sat again, picked up his pipe, and did not light it for a long time.

His mind was filled with the young Daimyo described by Yuhi Shinku.

Calm, dignified.

Emotions unreadable.

Speaking the most piercing words in the gentlest tone.

First striking with a stick, then tossing a useless candy to make you grateful.

He knew this method well.

But it should not appear in a sixteen-year-old.

These methods, this cunning, this depth—clearly the mark of someone steeped in power for decades.

He remembered the past.

Back then, to secure the position of Hokage, he had also sought the Daimyo Manor's support.

He knew the Daimyo's power was not only in nominal rule.

Economics was the most lethal weapon.

After all, everyone had to eat, ninja included.

But he had never thought this new Daimyo would refuse so decisively.

The other party did not bargain with Konoha.

He issued a notice.

They had all misjudged him.

A chilling memory flashed through Hiruzen's mind.

Just last month, he had received a plea for help from this Daimyo.

At that time, the struggle for the Daimyo's position was at its peak.

He had refused.

Cold sweat formed.

"Hiruzen! What are you hesitating for?!"

Danzo stepped closer, voice sinister. "Send the Anbu to warn him! Let him learn what co-governance means!"

"Foolish!"

Hiruzen slammed the desk, voice sharp.

Danzo stopped.

Hiruzen stared, eyes like blades. "Warn him? How?"

"Send an assassin? Then what? Make the nobles and civilians of the Land of Fire see Konoha as rebels? Let the other four nations laugh at us? Give them an excuse to declare war?"

"Without the Daimyo Manor's support, can the Village endure a war?"

The barrage left Danzo speechless.

Yes.

The other side was the legitimate Daimyo.

His reason for cutting the budget was national hardship and the need to overcome it together.

On what grounds could Konoha object?

Were Konoha ninja not people of the Land of Fire?

Justice and legitimacy were in his hands.

Konoha had strength, but its limbs were bound.

"Then… what do we do? Just accept it?" Homura asked, unwilling.

Hiruzen fell silent.

He walked to the window, looking at the Village below and the stone faces that symbolized the will of the Hokage.

For a long time, he exhaled a heavy breath.

"No."

"We cannot just let it go."

He turned back, once again composed like a ninja hero.

"I will personally resolve this."

Danzo's cane struck the ground. "How?"

Hiruzen picked up the invitation. "Do not publicize this for now. I will speak with the Daimyo at the coronation ceremony."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 8: Long Live the Daimyo

What can a month change?

In the Ninja World, it could mean the end of a brutal war or the fall of several powerful figures.

But in the Fire Capital, a single month was enough to transform the entire city.

"Brother, these spices of yours, they came from the Land of Wind, didn't they? What's the price?"

In the largest market in the Fire Capital's South City, a merchant from the Land of Grass named Watanabe shouted to a local shop owner.

Watanabe had been running this trade route for five years. He remembered that just a month ago, this place looked completely different.

At that time, the civil unrest had only just settled. The streets were full of patrolling samurai, and the air carried a nauseating smell of blood.

The roads were filled with potholes, sewage flowed freely, business was terrible, and every face was etched with numbness and panic.

But now?

Watanabe looked around, feeling as if he were dreaming.

The road beneath his feet was newly paved with bluestone, smooth and clean.

The shops on both sides were freshly renovated, banners fluttering in the breeze.

The most shocking change was the people.

Crowds filled the streets.

Dockworkers, construction craftsmen, rickshaw pullers, vendors... everyone's faces carried something Watanabe had never seen before.

Vitality.

"Hey, Watanabe, you're finally here!"

The shop owner poked his head out from behind the counter, his face glowing with health. "The usual, price is negotiable! Come in and have a cup of tea first. You came at the perfect time!"

Watanabe was warmly pulled into the shop, and a clerk quickly served hot tea.

He couldn't help but ask, "Boss, did you all strike it rich or something?"

"Strike it rich?"

The boss slapped his thigh, his voice rising several octaves. "It's gone crazy! The entire Fire Capital has gone mad!"

"Now, as long as you're willing to work, you'll never starve! Carrying sacks at the docks for a day pays double what it used to!"

"North City is repairing the sewers, East City is building new housing districts, and West City is expanding the workshop area... everywhere needs people! We can't even find enough workers!"

"Wages are high, everyone has money, so of course they're spending more! Look at my shop, this month's turnover is more than the past three months combined!"

Watanabe was stunned.

"This... this is all thanks to the new Daimyo?"

"Exactly!"

The boss's face was full of admiration. "You wouldn't believe it. As soon as our new Daimyo-sama took office, he forced those arrogant nobles to use their family fortunes to rebuild the city and roads!"

"I even heard Daimyo-sama launched something called a three-year revitalization plan, to turn the Fire Capital into a golden nest!"

The teacup in Watanabe's hand trembled.

He looked at the bustling crowd outside, listening to the distant clang of construction, and only one thought filled his mind.

The Land of Fire is about to change...

At the same time, inside the Ministry of Finance's office, the lights burned brightly.

Minister of Finance Tanaka Shigeru was hunched over piles of ledgers, his eyes bloodshot but his spirit unusually lively.

His fingers traced the rows of numbers as he muttered to himself.

"South City Road Repair Project, allocated one billion ryo, projected tax increase of thirty percent, actual... forty-five percent!"

"River dredging project, undertaken by the Ito Family, employing seven thousand displaced people, not only solved resettlement but also revitalized water transport... next month, just from shipping tax, an additional fifty million ryo!"

"And the three iron mines offered by Kawachi-no-Kami, using new technology, have quadrupled production! The farming tools and implements crafted are sold out before they even leave the furnace!"

Tanaka's heartbeat quickened with each calculation.

A month ago, when he knelt before Daimyo-sama, forced to surrender seventy percent of his family's assets, his heart bled.

But who would have thought?

Daimyo-sama immediately assigned several of the most profitable reconstruction projects to him and his family's merchant guild.

At this rate, in less than a year, the Tanaka Family would be restored to glory.

Daimyo-sama once said he would let them earn it back a hundredfold, a thousandfold.

Now, it seemed he hadn't lied.

He used an iron fist to consolidate power, and unimaginable profits to bind everyone to the Land of Fire's chariot.

Tanaka put down his pen and let out a long breath.

Looking at the incoming funds, his eyes burned with fanaticism and awe.

"To die for Daimyo-sama... is our honor."

He muttered as if swearing an oath.

Inside the Daimyo Manor's study, Arashi stood before a large sand table.

He casually picked up a wooden token representing the workshop district and placed it on an empty space west of the city.

A soft voice spoke from behind him.

"My Lord, the tea has cooled. This concubine will prepare a fresh cup for you."

Kiyotsuki Yui approached, carrying a tea tray.

She wore a simple maid uniform. Her face had regained some color, and her movements were no longer stiff, though she still instinctively lowered her gaze before Arashi.

Over the past month, the once-noble young lady who had never lifted a finger had learned to brew tea, grind ink, and tidy the study.

Each day, she stayed by Arashi's side, watching as commands issued from this very room turned into tangible changes across the Fire Capital.

She saw those ministers, once equal to her father, now report with genuine reverence.

She watched familiar place names on the sand table be re-planned into projects generating immense wealth.

She didn't understand complex economics, but she could feel a great power gathering at this man's fingertips, reshaping the entire country.

This power instilled a fear far deeper than slaughter or destruction.

"No need," Arashi said without turning around. "Sit."

Yui froze, unsure what to do.

"Sit," he repeated.

Only then did she hesitantly kneel on the cushion, her posture perfectly straight.

Arashi turned and slowly walked behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder, gently stroking it.

"How do you feel after this past month?"

Yui's body trembled. "I am merely a maid. I do not understand state affairs."

"Is that so?"

Arashi smiled. "I thought you might believe I was exploiting the nobles, using their money to gain fame for myself."

Yui lowered her head further, saying nothing.

She had indeed thought that at first.

"You only saw them paying, but you didn't see how much they gained."

Arashi's hand moved lower.

"I took their family assets to break their old order. I gave them projects to help them find a place in the new order I created."

"Fear makes them submit, and profit makes them loyal."

His voice was calm.

Yui's face flushed as she suppressed the turmoil in her body.

But deep down, a chill rose.

She slowly looked up, daring to meet his eyes for the first time.

Before him, her pride and hatred seemed utterly insignificant.

"My Lord... why tell me all this?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Arashi's hand continued to move.

"Because you are beautiful."

"A beautiful face, if paired with an empty mind, would be such a waste."

"I know you hate me deeply, but I still want you to learn to think, not just accept things passively. That way, it will be more interesting."

Yui's cheeks burned crimson, whether from shame, anger, or something else, she couldn't tell.

Knock knock.

A knock came at the door.

Outside, Gen's voice sounded.

"My Lord."

"Speak."

"All preparations for the enthronement ceremony are complete. The ceremonial day is three days from now."

"Good."

"Also, Konoha Village has sent a reply."

"Oh?"

Arashi raised an eyebrow, withdrew his hand, and returned to his seat. "Come in."

Yui exhaled softly, her face showing both shame and suppressed indignation, though deep hatred still flickered in her eyes.

Gen entered and respectfully presented the letter.

Arashi unfolded it. It was sent jointly by the Konoha Elders.

The letter stated that they fully understood the Daimyo Manor's financial difficulties and were willing to face the challenges together with the country.

Furthermore, they would send a delegation to attend the enthronement ceremony three days later.

Arashi murmured, "A delegation? Hiruzen Sarutobi."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 9: Visitors from Konoha, Envoys from Four Countries

Only two days remained until the Coronation Ceremony.

Fire Capital, a city that had just undergone a bloody purge, was not in chaos. Instead, it was orderly.

The streets were spotless, and the nobles and ronin who used to roam freely were nowhere to be seen.

In their place were teams of sharp-eyed guards clad in armor.

They patrolled every street corner in groups of three.

A carriage adorned with the Uchiha Clan fan crest slowly entered the city.

Inside the carriage, Uchiha Fugaku, Hyuga Hiashi, and the Clan Chiefs of the Ino–Shika–Chō families rode together, conversing merrily.

However, due to Akimichi Choza's presence, it felt a bit crowded.

Just then, Hiashi's expression changed slightly, and veins bulged around his eyes.

"Hiashi, what's wrong?"

Nara Shikaku, who was beside him, noticed the change and quickly asked.

The others also cast inquiring glances.

Hiashi did not answer immediately. His Byakugan penetrated the carriage, scanning the surrounding buildings, his brows tightly furrowed.

"Something's not right…"

After a long while, he slowly spoke. "The defenses of this Capital are more than just the guards we see."

"Oh?" Shikaku's interest was piqued.

"There are ninja hidden at every critical intersection," Hiashi said in a solemn tone.

Fugaku snorted. "Are they the Twelve Guardian Ninja?"

"Doesn't seem like it."

Hiashi shook his head. "Their Chakra fluctuations are unfamiliar, and there are about thirty-odd of them, but…"

"Of all the people I've detected, the weakest are at least Chūnin level. Some of their Chakra are even on par with ours."

The carriage instantly fell silent.

The relaxed expressions on everyone's faces vanished.

A ninja force of over thirty individuals, at least Chūnin level, and with experts of elite Jōnin level?

This power was enough to instigate a coup in a small country.

Moreover, this force did not belong to Konoha. It seemed to be the doing of that Daimyo.

"This is troublesome…"

Shikaku rubbed his forehead, muttering to himself. "This young Daimyo is very assertive."

In another carriage, two figures sat within it.

It was the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, and Minato Namikaze behind him.

"Minato, do you feel it?"

Hiruzen scanned the surrounding streets, his tone deep.

Minato nodded, looking at the orderly streets. "Yes, this Daimyo is very capable."

Hiruzen sighed, his gaze directed toward the distant, majestic Daimyo Manor.

"Indeed. I just wonder if this Daimyo still remembers the blood Konoha shed for the Land of Fire."

After speaking, he looked serious and turned to Minato.

"During this great war, we suffered heavy losses, and the Village, both internally and externally, needs an explanation. As the Third Hokage, it's time for me to take responsibility for all of this."

His words were full of self-reproach, but Minato understood the deeper meaning beneath them.

Take responsibility. How to take responsibility?

By resigning from the position of Hokage to take responsibility.

This was both a gesture of accepting responsibility and a tactical retreat.

Daimyo Manor, in a side hall.

The delegations from the Daimyo Manors of the Land of Lightning, Land of Wind, Land of Earth, and Land of Water had already been arranged to wait here.

The atmosphere was somewhat subtle.

The envoy from the Land of Lightning was a burly noble, dressed lavishly, his face full of arrogance, with two Kumogakure ninja guards behind him, exuding an intimidating aura.

The envoy from the Land of Earth was short, appearing to be a civil official, stroking his beard silently, also with two Iwagakure ninja guards behind him.

The envoy from the Land of Wind was a middle-aged official with a weathered face, and behind him stood a masked female ninja with dangerous eyes.

Most striking was the delegation from the Land of Water.

The envoy was a pale-faced, gloomy young noble, and the guard standing behind him was Biwa Jūzō, one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen.

"Hmph, making so many of us wait here, this is hardly proper hospitality."

The envoy from the Land of Lightning was the first to break the silence, his voice rough and tone displeased.

Although the others did not speak, their faces showed dissatisfaction.

Just then, the door of the side hall was pushed open, instantly drawing everyone's attention.

The person who walked in was a young woman.

The woman carried a tray with exquisite pastries on it.

She lowered her head, moving with light steps, placing the pastries one by one on everyone's tables.

The gloomy noble whistled with interest, the sound not loud but particularly jarring.

"Oh, the Land of Fire's maid, she's quite pretty."

The woman seemed not to have heard. After placing the last pastry, she bowed and retreated to the side, standing with her hands clasped.

Just then, footsteps sounded outside the door again.

This time, it was the Daimyo Manor's old butler, Gen.

"My Lords, thank you for waiting," Gen bowed. "Daimyo has specially ordered this old man to arrange lodging for you, My Lords."

The envoy from the Land of Lightning snorted. "The Land of Fire's hospitality leaves much to be desired."

Gen's smile remained unchanged.

"Daimyo said that since you, My Lords, have traveled a long way and endured hardships, you should rest well. Tomorrow evening, Daimyo Manor will host a banquet to welcome you, My Lords."

With words spoken to this extent, the envoy from the Land of Lightning found it difficult to make a scene.

---

Daimyo Manor.

Arashi stood by the window, looking down at his Capital.

In his consciousness, on the interface of the [Daimyo System], points of light representing powerful individuals lit up one by one.

Uchiha, Hyuga, the Ino–Shika–Chō families. Inuzuka, Aburame. Hiruzen Sarutobi, Minato Namikaze. And the ninja guards in the delegations of the Four Great Nations. "They've almost all arrived."

"Are all the arrangements made?"

"Yes, My Lord, all have been properly arranged," Gen's voice came from behind him.

"Very good."

Arashi turned around, his gaze falling on an invitation.

This was sent by Hiruzen, arranging to pay a visit tomorrow.

His finger tapped on Hiruzen's name.

He was somewhat looking forward to tomorrow's arrival.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 10: Retreating to Advance!

As the enthronement ceremony approached, the Fire Capital was completely reshaped within a single month.

The shadow of war seemed to have dissipated, and prosperity was visible to the naked eye.

The expanded streets were wide and clean, with shops lining both sides.

Caravans from various countries, guided by guards, orderly entered the designated trade zones.

The air was filled with the aroma of food, intertwined with the clang of blacksmiths, forming a picture of human life and activity.

Children chased and played, their faces full of laughter.

All these thriving scenes originated from the young Daimyo who was about to be enthroned, Arashi.

He used an iron fist to reshape the order of the Fire Capital.

Only a few rats still trembled, hiding in the shadows.

Order brings safety.

Safety fosters prosperity.

But beneath this prosperity, an undercurrent was quietly surging toward the center of power in the Fire Capital, the Daimyo Manor.

Study room.

Arashi stood before a huge map, his gaze calmly surveying the entire territory of the Land of Fire.

Just then, a voice from outside the door sounded.

"My Lord, the Third Hokage has arrived."

Finally, he came.

Arashi regained his composure and said, "Let them in."

"Yes."

The door was pushed open, and two figures entered, one after the other.

Leading the way was Hiruzen Sarutobi, dressed in the Hokage's ceremonial robe.

He deliberately restrained his powerful aura, his face covered with wrinkles, his eyes cloudy, looking decrepit and older than in the manga, completely lacking the demeanor of the Ninja God he once was.

Minato Namikaze followed closely, with dazzling short golden hair, bright eyes, and a perpetually humble and gentle smile on his face.

The two entered the room and bowed deeply to Arashi.

"Konoha's Hiruzen Sarutobi greets Daimyo-sama."

"Konoha's Minato Namikaze greets Daimyo-sama."

Arashi turned around, a gentle smile on his face. "Please rise, both of you, no need for such formalities."

He gestured with his hand.

"The Third has toiled for the country, and Jōnin Minato is even more a pillar of the nation. Please, have a seat."

"Thank you, My Lord."

The two sat down as instructed, their postures respectful.

Hiruzen's gaze subtly swept across the study room, finally resting on Arashi, a chill in his heart.

He was even more composed than described in the intelligence. Not only did he show no youthful impetuousness, he was remarkably calm.

The bloody struggles he had endured recently seemed to have left no trace on him.

Arashi said lightly, "Someone, bring tea."

The side door of the study was gently pushed open, and a maid entered, carrying a tea tray.

She kept her head down, her steps light, serving tea to Hiruzen and Minato with meticulous movements, so elegant she hardly seemed like a maid.

Minato politely thanked her, his gaze involuntarily drawn to the woman's profile, struck by her beauty.

However, the moment Hiruzen next to him clearly saw that face, his pupils sharply constricted.

His hand, holding the teacup, tightened abruptly, spilling tea, but he did not notice.

Kiyotsuki Yui.

He would never mistake that face.

The most dazzling pearl of the Fire Capital, the sole daughter of the Kiyotsuki Family, which was destroyed for backing the wrong side.

How could she be here, and wearing a maid's uniform?

How ruthless.

Although Minato did not recognize Kiyotsuki Yui, he keenly caught the Third's lapse in composure.

His heart tightened, and when he looked at the maid again, his eyes held a hint of scrutiny.

After setting down the teacups, Yui did not retreat but walked behind Arashi, standing with her hands at her sides, like a statue.

This silent gesture was like a heavy hammer, striking Hiruzen's heart.

The speech he had prepared all the way here now felt stuck in his throat.

Arashi's face showed concern. "Third, you look a bit unwell? Is it the fatigue from the journey?"

Hiruzen snapped back to attention, quickly composed himself, and forced a smile. "Indeed, I am a bit tired. I'm old and useless now, please forgive me, Daimyo-sama."

Arashi immediately blamed himself. "Oh, it's my fault. How could I let an elder like you, who has toiled for the country all his life, make such a journey personally?"

"No hardship, no hardship," Hiruzen humbly replied, but inwardly, alarm bells were ringing. Is he implying I'm old and should retire?

I cannot be led by him any longer.

Setting down his teacup, Hiruzen decided to stop beating around the bush and get straight to the point. "Daimyo-sama."

He suddenly stood up, his expression becoming incredibly solemn.

"Although we ultimately won this great war, the Village also paid a heavy price."

"Countless excellent ninja died on the battlefield, countless families were shattered, and the Village is in ruins, waiting to be rebuilt."

His voice was hoarse, his words filled with sorrow, as if from the bottom of his heart.

"As Hokage, I bear an inescapable responsibility for all of this."

"It was I who failed to protect them better. It was I who failed to lead the Village to a brighter future."

At this point, he bent down, his head almost touching his chest, his posture extremely humble.

"Therefore, I have come today to resign from my position as Hokage to Daimyo-sama."

"I humbly request, My Lord, to allow me to step down as Hokage. I am willing to bear full responsibility for the losses caused by this war."

As his voice fell, the study room plunged into dead silence.

Minato also hastily stood up, his head bowed, his eyes complex.

This was the script that Hiruzen had discussed with him before coming.

Arashi instantly saw through Hiruzen's intention, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes.

To retreat in order to advance?

A good plan.

He would take responsibility upon himself, presenting a noble and upright image.

If Arashi did not agree, he could then propose restoring the budget to appease the Village.

If Arashi agreed, he could legitimately nominate Minato to take over, and if he could also bring back news of no budget cuts, his position would be instantly solidified.

Thinking more deeply.

Minato was already from the Hokage faction. Whether Hiruzen retired or not, Konoha's power would still circulate within the Hokage faction.

He had calculated well.

Arashi pondered for a moment, then his gaze passed over Hiruzen and fell upon Minato. "Jōnin Minato."

Called by name, Minato immediately responded, "Here."

"What do you think of the Third's decision?"

Minato instantly felt immense pressure.

This question was difficult to answer.

To say he supported it would be disloyal.

To say he opposed it would go against the purpose of their visit.

Minato pondered for a moment and replied, "Hokage-sama is wholeheartedly devoted to public service. I do not dare to comment presumptuously on his decision."

"However, I believe that the Village, having just gone through a major war, needs stability most right now."

"Regardless of who leads Konoha in the future, the stability of the Village must be the top priority."

This answer both expressed respect for Hiruzen and highlighted the potential risks of changing the Hokage, skillfully kicking the ball back.

"Well said."

Arashi praised, then looked back at Hiruzen.

He slowly rose and walked in front of Hiruzen, helping him up, his tone sincere.

"Third, what are you doing."

"You have toiled for the Land of Fire, for Konoha, your entire life. Your achievements are outstanding, you are a pillar of the nation. How can the losses of war be borne by you alone?"

"That's not fair."

Hiruzen's heart swelled with joy, believing his strategy had worked.

It seemed this young Daimyo still understood how to weigh the pros and cons and would not easily allow Leaf to fall into turmoil.

"However."

Arashi's smile remained unchanged, but his tone suddenly shifted. "You are also right, Konoha indeed needs change, needs to be responsible for the future."

"Your willingness to step forward and bear this responsibility, this magnanimity, I admire."

He patted Hiruzen's shoulder intimately, saying each word distinctly:

"Your resignation, I accept."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 11: It Is Time to Give Way

"Your resignation, I accept."

The moment Arashi's voice fell, the look of shock on Hiruzen's face lasted only an instant.

Immediately after, a surge of ecstasy filled his heart, and even his taut nerves relaxed.

"It's done."

He shouted in his heart.

"This Daimyo is, after all, too young."

Hiruzen thought to himself.

"He might have seen through my superficial tactic of retreating to advance, but he did not realize that this retreat was to ensure the most stable handover of power for the Hokage lineage."

This meant the Hokage position would transition smoothly into Minato's hands.

Konoha's foundation not only remained unshaken, it would become even more stable due to Minato's achievements and prestige.

However, he did not know why, but a complex and unspeakable emotion welled up in his heart.

Twenty-seven years.

From the prime of his youth to old age, he had dedicated his entire life to Konoha.

From now on, that Hokage Hat, symbolizing the Village's highest will, would no longer belong to him.

Arashi looked at Hiruzen's complex expression and sneered in his heart. "Old fox, you have already swallowed the bait. Now, be happy a little longer."

Minato's heart was stirred, and he looked at Hiruzen with deep respect.

"The Third has paved the path for the Village and for me."

Arashi stood up, his face filled with sincerity and emotion. "I just thought about it carefully, and my heart is also filled with emotion."

His tone carried a sense of reminiscence.

"I remember, you took over the heavy burden of Hokage in Konoha Year 20, from the hands of Second Hokage Senju Tobirama, right?"

Hiruzen subconsciously nodded. "Yes."

"And this year is Konoha Year 47."

Arashi let out a long sigh, gesturing with his hand. "Twenty-seven years."

"For a full twenty-seven years, you dedicated the most precious years of your life to the Village, to the Land of Fire. Third, you have worked hard."

These words, full of respect, filled Hiruzen with a sense of being acknowledged, and the slight disdain that arose from achieving his goal faded a little.

Even Minato felt deep admiration.

Arashi continued, "A meritorious official like you is now resigning due to war losses. If I were to simply approve it like this, would it not make me, the Daimyo, seem cold and heartless?"

"However, your body truly needs rest, and it is time for the younger generation to take charge."

Looking at Hiruzen, Arashi asked for his advice. "Third, in your opinion, who is most suitable to succeed the Hokage position in Konoha today?"

"It's here."

Hiruzen's heart settled.

The other party not only agreed to his abdication, he also voluntarily handed him the right to recommend the next successor.

What immense trust. What immense respect.

"It seems Yuhi Shinku's description was completely wrong."

His last trace of doubt vanished, and with a solemn expression, he unhesitatingly pointed behind him.

"Daimyo-sama, I recommend Minato Namikaze. He is the most suitable to take over the Hokage position."

"Elaborate."

"Minato, in this great war, swept through the battlefield with his Flying Thunder God Technique, killing countless enemies. He is known as the Yellow Flash, and his reputation shakes the entire Ninja World. Iwagakure even issued an order that anyone who sees the Yellow Flash may abandon their mission and flee."

"He is loyal to the Daimyo and the Village, cares for his comrades, and his strength and prestige are sufficient to take on the position of Fourth Hokage."

"Yellow Flash."

Arashi's gaze fell on Minato, and he praised, "His illustrious reputation, I have heard of it. I am very relieved to have such a hero serve as Hokage."

"Good, it shall be as you say. At the inauguration ceremony the day after tomorrow, I will officially appoint Minato Namikaze as the Fourth Hokage."

The dust had settled.

Minato was thrilled and bowed deeply. "Thank you for your trust, Daimyo-sama."

Hiruzen's heart, which had been anxious all the way, finally completely relaxed, and his old face immediately broke into a wide smile.

"Third, you have found another talented individual for the Land of Fire. You have toiled your entire life for the country, and now that you have retired with honor, as the Daimyo, I must not treat a meritorious official shabbily."

Arashi immediately decided, "From today onwards, your salary and benefits will be doubled. I will send people to immediately renovate your mansion in the capital, and all servants, maids, and expenses will be borne by my Daimyo Manor."

"From now on, you only need to enjoy your golden years and this honor."

These words greatly comforted Hiruzen.

This was not only respect, but also a transcendent status.

Even without real power, what did it matter?

Hiruzen was moved to tears of gratitude. "Thank you, Daimyo-sama."

Since the Daimyo valued him so much, he thought, the other purpose of his visit today would surely be easily resolved.

Thinking of this, Hiruzen's smile became even more sincere, and he said, "The Daimyo's kindness is boundless, and I am eternally grateful. However, there is one more matter concerning Konoha's foundation, which I must speak of."

"Oh?"

Arashi looked at him with interest, thinking to himself, "It is finally here."

"Third, just speak directly."

"It is about the reduced budget."

Hiruzen sighed, putting on a worried expression for the country and its people.

"Konoha is the shield of the Land of Fire. The cultivation of the ninja, the execution of missions, and the defense of the Village all require money. A twenty percent reduction would truly make the Village's operations difficult to maintain."

He thought that these heartfelt words, coupled with the good atmosphere just now, would surely make the Daimyo relent.

However, the smile on Arashi's face had already faded.

"Third."

He was not angry, his tone was calm, yet incredibly serious. "My reduction of Konoha's budget is not aimed at you, it is a national strategy."

"Come, follow me."

He stepped forward and took Hiruzen's arm, pulling him to the table, and pointing to a document, said, "Do you know what this is?"

Hiruzen shook his head blankly.

Arashi unfolded the document and showed it to him. Hiruzen turned his head and clearly saw the contents inside.

It recorded loss reports from all over the country, including population and property, with lines of cold, shocking numbers.

Hiruzen was speechless, clearly startled by the numbers on it.

"The war is over."

At this moment, Arashi's voice slowly drifted over.

"You only see Konoha's war losses, but have you seen the entire Land of Fire?"

"Have you visited the border towns? They were destroyed by war, a scene of desolation."

"Have you asked in the rural villages? How many families there have lost their children and husbands, leaving only orphans and widows."

"The civilians of the Land of Fire need to recuperate. The destroyed towns need to be rebuilt. The displaced civilians need to be resettled."

"Do these things not require money?"

Arashi suddenly turned around, his gaze piercing like a torch, directly into Hiruzen's heart.

"Every single ryo must be used effectively. The most important thing now is to appease the people and rebuild their homes, not to let a ninja village that has already won the war continue to maintain its massive wartime expenses."

This series of words, along with the shocking war damage report, struck Hiruzen and Minato like heavy hammers.

They had never considered this issue from this perspective.

In their eyes, the Village's interests were above all else.

But at this moment, the people's livelihood, as spoken by the Daimyo, was the foundation.

"Third."

Arashi's tone softened, but his subsequent words seemed somewhat critical.

"Konoha is the sharp blade of the Land of Fire, the pride of the nation."

"But."

"Konoha cannot only know how to demand from the nation, yet not understand the Daimyo's difficulties, nor the suffering of the myriad people."

Hiruzen's face instantly turned pale.

His lips trembled, wanting to argue, but he found himself unable to utter a single word.

This sentence was too heavy.

It was equivalent to directly nailing Konoha, and him, Hiruzen Sarutobi, to the pillar of shame for contending with the people for profit.

Minato, standing by, was struck as if by lightning.

He wanted to refute, but he could not speak.

Because every word the other party said stood on the moral high ground, its legitimacy irrefutable.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 12: Hiruzen, You Don’t Even Have the Right to Refuse

The atmosphere in the Daimyo Manor study was heavy.

All the arguments and contingency plans he had prepared were useless against this young Daimyo.

The other party did not even bother with schemes.

He simply laid bare a problem Hiruzen had deliberately ignored, right in front of him.

Bloody.

Konoha or the Land of Fire, which is the main body?

Ninja or civilians, which is the foundation?

He suddenly remembered something Danzo often said.

For Konoha… Hiruzen opened his mouth, his throat dry, unable to utter a sound.

Refute?

What could he use to refute?

Was he to publicly declare that the lives of civilians were less important than Konoha's future?

If those words left his mouth, Hiruzen would be nailed to a pillar of shame.

Minato stood behind him, silent, the warmth gone from his face.

He looked at the report on the table, then at the Third Hokage's ashen face.

The belief he had always held was shaken.

For the Village, must he truly disregard other people?

The study was very quiet.

Everyone's breathing was clearly audible.

"Third Hokage, you are a smart man."

Arashi stepped forward, steadying the tottering Hiruzen, and pressed him back into his chair.

"Sit down and speak."

Hiruzen stumbled into the chair, all strength drained from his body.

Arashi turned, poured a cup of hot tea, and pushed it in front of him.

"Drink some tea."

This gesture, in Hiruzen's eyes, was blatant humiliation.

But he had even lost the courage to refuse.

Minato's lips moved, but he dared not say a word.

"I know you feel bad."

Arashi's tone was calm.

"You have dedicated your life to Konoha, wanting it to be better, I understand."

"But your vision is too narrow. You only see one Village."

He raised a hand and pointed out the window.

"Look outside, this land, these tens of millions of people, are the true foundation of the Land of Fire."

"Konoha is the sword of the Land of Fire, its shield. A sword and shield are meant to protect the country, not to be above it."

"This principle, you, and the future Fourth Hokage, must all understand."

His last sentence was directed at Minato.

Minato's heart jolted, and he immediately bowed.

"Minato will engrave the Daimyo's teachings in his heart."

Arashi nodded in satisfaction.

He looked back at Hiruzen.

"So, budget cuts are not a discussion, they are an order."

"Twenty percent is just the beginning."

"If Konoha can adapt quickly, learn to be frugal, and use its money wisely, this number will not change again."

"But."

Arashi paused.

"If Konoha continues to be extravagant as before, or even falls into disarray, then there is a problem with the Village's management."

"At that time, it will not be a twenty percent cut."

"It will be forty percent, sixty percent, or even more."

Hiruzen suddenly looked up, his breathing rapid.

This was a stark warning.

The Daimyo Manor could not only decide how much money to give, but also Konoha's very survival.

"This old man… understands."

Hiruzen's voice was hoarse and dry.

He conceded defeat.

Indeed, how could the leader of a Village compare to the ruler of a nation?

"I am glad you understand."

Arashi smiled again, very gently.

"Third Hokage, though you have resigned as Hokage, Konoha still needs you to stabilize the situation."

"How about this?"

Arashi feigned contemplation.

"The matter of budget cuts, you will personally return to the Village to announce it."

Minato's mind buzzed.

Have the Third Hokage announce it?

How was that different from making him publicly admit incompetence?

Minato was about to open his mouth when Arashi looked over, a half-smile on his face, making him swallow his words.

"You, you…"

Hiruzen trembled violently, his lips quivering as he looked at Arashi, unable to complete a single word.

"What? The Third Hokage is unwilling?"

Arashi's smile faded.

"You just said you would take full responsibility for the losses of the war."

"Now I ask you to convey an order, and you are unwilling?"

"Or are you just paying lip service to taking responsibility?"

"Do you want Minato to take the blame for you? To let him, the newly appointed Fourth Hokage, offend everyone in the Village?"

"Third Hokage, as his predecessor, you cannot be so irresponsible."

Hiruzen was speechless.

The responsibility, he had taken it upon himself.

Now, the Daimyo was asking him to take charge. Could he refuse?

To refuse would be to break his word, to be irresponsible, to dump a mess on Minato.

Did he want to ruin his lifelong reputation?

But if he agreed… countless faces appeared in Hiruzen's mind.

The ninja who survived the battlefield, the families who lost loved ones, the orphans and widows living on pensions.

How could he face them?

When he personally announced the reduction of their budgets, cutting off their livelihoods, what expressions would they have when they looked at him?

Disappointment?

Confusion?

Or, resentment?

His lifelong prestige would vanish in that instant.

Forward was a cliff.

Backward was an abyss.

Only then did Hiruzen realize that from the moment he stepped into this room, his right to choose had been stripped away.

His supposed game of chess.

In reality, he was just following the other party's script.

"This old man… obeys."

After a long time, Hiruzen's cracked lips moved.

His entire being sagged, his body hunched, as if his bones had been removed.

"Very good."

Arashi's face showed satisfaction.

He stood up and picked up a prepared document from behind the desk.

"This is the new fiscal budget proposal, and my official appointment letter for the Fourth Hokage."

"Take them back."

Minato stepped forward and received them with both hands.

"The day after tomorrow is my enthronement ceremony. At that time, I hope to see a united, stable Konoha that understands the nation's difficulties."

"You may leave."

Arashi waved his hand.

"Yes."

Minato bowed, helped Hiruzen, and slowly exited the study.

With a thud, the heavy door closed firmly.

The two walked out of the Daimyo Manor, standing before its grand entrance.

The street was bustling with traffic, a scene of prosperity.

Hiruzen stared blankly at everything, his mouth full of bitterness.

Inside the study.

Arashi picked up the now cold tea in front of him and took a sip.

Yui immediately stepped forward to refill his cup with hot water.

Her movements were light, but she could not help glancing at Arashi.

"Is it good to look at?"

Arashi's voice suddenly broke the silence.

Yui's body trembled, and she quickly lowered her head.

Arashi chuckled, pinching her chin, forcing her to look up.

"Look at me."

Yui was forced to meet his gaze, her eyes having nowhere to settle.

Arashi enjoyed her bewilderment and slowly began,

"Remember, this is power."

"Whether it is a noble young miss famous throughout the land, or a Hokage who shakes the Ninja World, in front of me, they have no right to say no."

"And you, you are mine. You must learn to obey."

With that, he released her.

Arashi no longer paid her any attention.

His consciousness sank, and a blue interface appeared before his eyes.

[Mission: Land of Fire Financial Reform, Phase One. Completion 80%...]

(To be continued.)

Chapter 13: New System Function

In the Fire Capital, the Konoha delegation's guesthouse.

This was the residence prepared by the Daimyo Manor for Konoha's high-ranking officials.

At this moment, the atmosphere in the main hall was terrifyingly oppressive.

All Konoha high-ranking officials who had accompanied the delegation were present.

Hiruzen and Minato had just returned from the Daimyo Manor.

Advisors Utatane Koharu and Homura Mitokado sat with calm expressions, their fingers tapping on the table, revealing their inner anxiety.

Clan Chiefs Uchiha Fugaku, Hyuga Hiashi, Nara Shikaku, and others sat upright, each with their own thoughts.

In the shadows of the corner, Danzō showed only one eye, remaining silent.

Everyone's gaze was focused on the main seat.

The man who seemed to have aged ten years.

Hiruzen Sarutobi.

His face was ashen, and his hands, placed on the table, trembled incessantly.

"Cough, cough."

He cleared his throat and scanned the crowd.

Everyone he looked at felt a pang in their heart.

The Third no longer had his usual prestige, only emptiness remained.

"From today onwards, I am no longer the Hokage."

With that single sentence, the hall erupted.

"What?!"

"How can this be so sudden? What happened at the Daimyo Manor?"

Koharu and Homura stood up abruptly, their faces filled with disbelief.

Hiruzen raised his hand, and the clamor gradually subsided.

His voice was hoarse, devoid of any emotion.

"This is the Daimyo's order."

"My resignation has been approved by the Daimyo."

He then looked at the silent Minato beside him.

"At the same time, the Daimyo personally appointed…"

"Minato Namikaze, as Konoha's Fourth Hokage."

As soon as these words were spoken, everyone's heads turned in unison toward Minato.

Envy, jealousy, scrutiny. Minato felt the immense pressure of these complex gazes.

He stood up, bowed deeply to everyone, and said nothing.

This appointment was too heavy.

So heavy that he felt no joy in becoming Hokage.

"Hmph."

In the shadows, Danzō let out a cold snort.

"Hiruzen, you lost the battle and now you want to just walk away?"

His voice was chilling.

"Leaving a mess for a mere youngster?"

Hiruzen's body stiffened for a moment, but he did not retort.

Because what Danzō said was true.

"There is one more thing."

Hiruzen ignored Danzo's provocation and continued.

"The Daimyo Manor has issued a new financial budget plan."

He pushed an official document to the center of the table.

"Starting next quarter, the Village's annual budget will be cut by twenty percent."

Dead silence.

You could hear a pin drop.

If changing the Hokage was a shift in high-level power, then cutting the budget was like cutting the flesh of everyone present.

"Twenty percent?!"

A Jōnin representative finally could not hold back and cried out in surprise.

"What a joke!"

"The war just ended, the compensation has not been fully paid out. The injured are still lying in the hospital. Why are they cutting our budget?"

"Exactly. We shed blood and sacrificed for the Land of Fire, and this is how the new Daimyo treats us?"

"He is trying to force us to our deaths."

The crowd was furious.

Their anger was directed at the new Daimyo they had never met.

It also targeted Hiruzen, who had brought back this news.

"Silence."

Minato slammed the table, a flash of Chakra instantly suppressing the entire room.

Only then did everyone remember that the Yellow Flash before them was already the Fourth Hokage.

The main hall became quiet again, but everyone's faces were filled with unwillingness and anger.

"This is an order."

Hiruzen repeated the sentence.

"The Daimyo sympathizes with the people and believes that the national treasury should prioritize the post-war reconstruction for civilians."

"Konoha should set an example."

"Hahahaha."

Danzō laughed.

His laughter was full of sarcasm.

"Hiruzen, you are truly senile."

"Ninja are the foundation of the country. Without us, this sword, those civilians are nothing but lambs to be slaughtered."

"That Daimyo is destroying his own Great Wall."

He stood up, his single eye gleaming with a terrifying light.

"I disagree."

"This order is an insult to all Konoha ninja. I will never accept it."

His words echoed the sentiments of most people present.

For a moment, many people cast hopeful glances at Danzō.

Perhaps only this strong Root leader would dare to say no to the Daimyo.

Hiruzen watched this scene, neither pleased nor angry.

"This is the Daimyo's order."

He repeated it a third time, then stood up, no longer looking at anyone, and walked out with faltering steps.

His back view was desolate.

Daimyo Manor.

Inside the sleeping quarters, sandalwood incense wafted.

Arashi reclined on a soft couch, in a languid posture.

Before him, Yui knelt on the carpet, using a small silver knife to peel a crystal pear for him.

Her movements were slow and meticulous.

After the pear was peeled, it was cut into small pieces, skewered with a silver pick, and offered to Arashi's mouth.

Arashi opened his mouth and took a bite.

It was very sweet.

He looked at the lifeless face before him and suddenly felt a bit bored.

His hand, passing through her soft long hair, gently stroked her neck.

Yui's body stiffened, but quickly relaxed again.

"Look up."

Arashi commanded.

Yui obediently raised her head.

"Smile."

Yui tried to force a smile, which looked worse than crying.

Arashi frowned and released his hand.

"Forget it, it is boring."

He waved his hand.

"You may withdraw."

"Yes."

Yui, as if granted a great pardon, bowed and retreated, her steps somewhat hurried.

[Ding!]

[Main Mission: Land of Fire Financial Reform, Phase One. Completed!]

[Mission Evaluation: Perfect!]

[Mission Reward: Talent Scan function, unlocked!]

[New Mission Issued!]

[Main Mission: Lord of the Land of Fire, Phase Two]

[Mission Objective: During the coronation ceremony, establish the supreme monarchical authority of the Land of Fire, awe envoys from all directions, and let the world know that in the Land of Fire, the Daimyo is supreme!]

[Mission Reward: Economic Policy Sandbox!]

"Economic Policy Sandbox?"

What is that?

Never mind, I will figure it out after completing the mission.

His attention shifted to the newly unlocked Talent Scan function.

[Enable?]

"Enable."

Instantly, a three-dimensional map covering the entire Fire Capital unfolded in his mind.

On the map, countless light dots appeared.

White represented civilians, red represented ninja.

The depth of the light dot's color directly indicated the strength of their power.

Among them, several light dots were crimson, almost purple.

[Minato Namikaze, Fourth Hokage, awaiting appointment. Loyalty 65, wavering. Threat Rank: Low]

[Uchiha Fugaku, Uchiha Clan Chief. Loyalty 50, unstable. Threat Rank: Low]

[Hyuga Hiashi, Hyuga Clan Chief. Loyalty 55, observing. Threat Rank: Low]

The new function was so useful. The previous System could also display people as light dots.

But it did not show loyalty.

Now with the new function, it was clear who was loyal and who was a traitor.

Arashi's consciousness finally lingered on a familiar name.

[Danzō Shimura, Root Leader. Loyalty 10, rebellious. Threat Rank: Low]

"Only ten points of loyalty?"

Arashi ignored him and continued to move his thoughts, scanning the area where the four nations' delegations were staying.

Land of Earth, Land of Wind, Land of Lightning. The delegations' guards were formidable, all with elite Jōnin in charge.

What interested him most was the location of the Land of Water delegation.

There, in addition to the overt envoy and the guard Biwa Jūzō, was a crimson, almost purple light dot.

[Mei Terumī, undercover. Hidden Mist Village genius ninja. Loyalty -20, hostile. Threat Rank: Low]

Mei Terumī?

Why would she be here?

Arashi's mind immediately brought up information about this woman.

The future Fifth Mizukage.

"What is she doing here?"

(To be continued.)

Chapter 14: New World

The night was as dark as ink.

At the Daimyo Manor, in a secluded and quiet courtyard, this place was usually untouched by anyone, with only rockeries, flowing water, and a dead plum tree.

Tonight, however, a lone lamp flickered in the courtyard.

Biwa Jūzō stood under the lamp, his shadow stretched long.

He wore the standard Hidden Mist uniform, and the massive Kubikiribōchō strapped to his back broke the silence of the courtyard.

A faint killing intent lingered in the air.

He was here because of an unsigned note that had appeared abruptly on his pillow, no one else had noticed it.

To be able to come and go unnoticed under his nose, within a heavily guarded embassy,
that alone was enough to be a show of power.

Jūzō's eyes gleamed darkly, veins bulging on the hand gripping his blade.

He was not afraid of death.

Which of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist hadn't crawled out from a pile of corpses?

But he hated being toyed with, whether by that tyrant back in the village or by this mysterious schemer.

Creak.

The moon gate opened.

A man walked in, carrying a pot of tea and two cups.

The newcomer wore black, his face handsome, and there was no trace of Chakra within him.

Jūzō's muscles tensed instantly.

The one who arrived was none other than the new Daimyo of the Land of Fire, Chiba Arashi.

Jūzō had considered countless possibilities,
but never that the one meeting him secretly at night would be this new ruler himself.

A Daimyo coming alone to meet an enemy Jōnin?

Was this basically walking into a trap?

Ignoring the killing intent radiating from Jūzō, Arashi walked straight to the stone table and sat down, pouring himself two cups of tea.

He spoke calmly, "Sit."

His tone was steady and unhurried.

Jūzō didn't move, his cold gaze fixed on him. His voice was rough.

"Daimyo of the Land of Fire, you've got guts!"

Arashi lifted the cup, blowing on the rising steam, then glanced at him.

"What right does a man who doesn't even dare draw his sword have to speak of courage?"

The words made Jūzō's face darken.

His hand had been gripping his sword all along, but his instincts screamed at him that this man before him was extremely dangerous, more dangerous than any opponent he had ever faced.

Jūzō dropped the pretense and asked directly, "Why did you call me here? What do you want?"

Arashi was just as direct. "I think you're impressive, so I'm giving you a chance—to serve me."

Jūzō let out a sharp laugh, baring his white teeth.

"Serve you? Me, Biwa Jūzō of Hidden Mist, swear allegiance to you, the Daimyo of the Land of Fire?"

"You haven't woken up yet, have you?"

Arashi wasn't angered. His tone remained calm.

"If not to me, then who do you serve? The Hidden Mist? The Fourth Mizukage, Yagura Karatachi? Are you truly loyal to them?"

Jūzō's smile froze.

Watching his reaction, Arashi silently recalled this man's future.

Biwa Jūzō, a tragic yet respectable figure.

Disgusted by the Blood Mist tyranny, he would one day defect and join Akatsuki.
His future partner would be that monster—Uchiha Itachi.

And his end would come on a mission,
when he used the Kubikiribōchō to block a Tailed Beast Ball to protect Itachi.
The blade pierced his abdomen, and he died from his wounds.

A man who died by his own weapon.
A man who, despite being from the Mist, sacrificed his life to protect a comrade from an enemy village.

Arashi's eyes softened slightly.

A scoundrel with principles.

A rogue ninja who valued loyalty, fundamentally stubborn.

Once such a man gave his loyalty, he would be far more reliable than any opportunist.

These thoughts flashed by.

His gaze on Jūzō carried a faint appreciation.

"You and I are both tired of this twisted world."

"Ninja are used as tools in the games of the powerful, dying meaningless deaths on the battlefield."

"Civilians are displaced by war, unable to even survive."

"Villages are ruled by ambitious fools and madmen, who build their power with the blood of their comrades."

"Don't you think this world should have been destroyed and remade long ago?"

Jūzō frowned deeply, his eyes narrowing, his tone sharp.

"What exactly are you getting at?"

Arashi leaned back in his chair.
"I want to end it all."

"I want to build a new order—a truly peaceful world without war or prejudice,
where both ninja and civilians can live in peace."

Jūzō was silent for a long moment. Then he burst out laughing, a harsh, mocking sound.

"Peace? What a lofty dream."

"Then tell me, Daimyo-sama, what do you have to back it up?"

"Just your words?"

He stepped forward, and a suffocating killing intent swept through the courtyard,
scattering the fallen leaves.

The candlelight flickered violently, nearly going out.

Yet Arashi sat unmoved, unflinching.

"Back it up?" he repeated softly, almost amused.

He didn't answer. Instead, he raised his hand and extended one finger toward the empty stone table.

The next instant, Jūzō's mind went blank.

No hand signs.
No Chakra fluctuations.

Tiny motes of light gathered at Arashi's fingertip, condensing into form.

First, antennae.
Then, wings.
Finally—a complete butterfly.

A living butterfly, born from nothing.

It fluttered gently, tracing an arc through the air, before landing on the branch of the dead plum tree.

This wasn't Ninjutsu.

Jūzō's thoughts froze completely.

Ninjutsu was the manipulation of chakra, shape transformation, nature transformation, all applications of existing energy.

But this?

Creation from nothing.

He was watching life itself being created out of thin air.

What kind of power was this?

Jūzō's hand on his sword trembled violently.

A bead of cold sweat slid down his temple,
falling to the stone slab and shattering.

His killing intent crumbled away completely.

"Now, do you understand what I have to back it up?"

Arashi's calm voice echoed again.

Jūzō stared at him, fear and awe intertwining in his eyes.

If… if such power existed, perhaps it really could change that cursed world.

His throat tightened, and he forced out a hoarse voice, "I… I will serve you!"

"As long as you help me kill Yagura Karatachi and end the Mist's tyranny!"

His teeth clenched hard as he spoke that name.

Arashi smiled and shook his head.
"Yes, but not yet."

"What I seek to end isn't a single village—it's the entire world."

Jūzō's fists clenched, nails digging into flesh.

Arashi looked at him and continued, "You can stay by my side and watch."

"The day you believe I've broken my promise, you can leave freely.

Your sword, your will—I won't stop you."

"But if you choose to stay…"

Arashi stood up and walked toward him,
his shadow completely enveloping Jūzō.

"You and your sword will be the ones to usher in my era—a unified world."

"The Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist? That title means nothing to me."

"What I offer you is the right to personally forge a new world."

As his words fell, Jūzō stopped resisting.

He knelt on one knee, raising the Kubikiribōchō with both hands, placing it horizontally before him, and lowered his proud head.

"I, Biwa Jūzō… am willing to die for you, my lord!"

(To be continued.)

Chapter 15: Biwa Jūzō, a Pessimist

The courtyard was silent.

The butterfly that had appeared out of thin air rested on a dead branch, its wings occasionally fluttering.

Jūzō knelt on one knee, his Executioner's Blade held horizontally in front of him, his posture humble.

Arashi stepped forward and helped him up.
"Stand."

His voice was soft, yet left no room for refusal.

"Yes, Lord."

Jūzō straightened his back, though he kept his head lowered.

The sight of something being created from nothing had completely shattered his pride as a ninja.

Once he stood upright, Arashi handed him a cup of tea.

"Besides you, there's another little mouse hidden among the Land of Water's envoy group. Who is it?"

Jūzō froze for a moment before realizing who Arashi was referring to.

"Lord… are you speaking of Mei Terumī?"

He said the name in a dry voice.

From the moment he knelt, everything about the Hidden Mist Village was no longer a secret.

"Mei Terumī…"

Arashi tapped his fingers lightly on the teacup, a faint smile on his lips.

It was indeed her—the future Fifth Mizukage.

He mused silently.

To the people of this world, Mei Terumī was currently just a somewhat renowned genius.

"I've heard of her," Arashi said, his tone carrying a trace of curiosity. "A genius rarely seen in the Hidden Mist in a hundred years, possessing two Kekkei Genkai? That's quite rare in the ninja world."

He skillfully hid the fact that he already knew.

But those words stirred up a storm in Jūzō's heart.

Two Kekkei Genkai!

That secret was known to only a few within the Hidden Mist, kept tightly under wraps to protect Mei from the Bloody Mist's purges.

How did he know?

Had Konoha's intelligence already infiltrated the Mist's highest ranks?

A chill ran through him.

Jūzō was increasingly thankful for his decision tonight.

"Yes, Lord's insight is sharp."

Suppressing the shock in his heart, Jūzō continued, "She possesses two Kekkei Genkai—Lava Release and Boil Release."

Seeing that he hid nothing, Arashi nodded in satisfaction.

"Such a person, instead of staying quietly in the Hidden Mist, sneaks into the Fire Capital. What does she intend to do?"

Arashi was genuinely curious.

Although he knew the general course of events, he didn't know the details.

"Mei came to raise supplies for the rebel army."

"Rebel army?"

"Yes."

Jūzō nodded. "A group led jointly by her and the former Mizukage's guard, Elder Genji. They could no longer bear the Bloody Mist's tyranny and intend to overthrow the Fourth Mizukage and rebuild the Hidden Mist."

Arashi tapped the table thoughtfully.
"An Elder and a genius girl… doesn't sound very strong."

Jūzō replied honestly, "Indeed. Most of the rebel army are Bloodline Limit families who were ostracized or hunted down over the years, along with some civilian ninja who couldn't endure the tyranny. They lack equipment, supplies, and money."

"Mei disguised herself as a guard and risked her life to infiltrate the Fire Capital. She hoped to use her own savings to buy military rations and ninja tools from the black market and smuggle them back."

Arashi nodded.

"To have that courage, she's quite a character."

Then he asked, "Do you think she might be willing to serve me?"

Jūzō was stunned.

He subconsciously looked up, met Arashi's gaze, and instantly understood.

This man not only wanted his blade but also Mei herself.

He hesitated for a moment, then shook his head firmly.

"Impossible."

Arashi asked calmly, "Oh? Why are you so sure?"

"She's different from me."

Jūzō's voice was heavy. "I'm already rotten. I've long despaired of this world. I only want to find a place to die, or die for a purpose."

"But Mei… she's an idealist."

"She truly loves the Hidden Mist. She believes she can change that hell and save those trapped in the Bloody Mist."

"She'll fight against Yagura Karatachi, but she'll never betray the Hidden Mist."

"Asking her to pledge allegiance to the Land of Fire is asking her to destroy her beliefs with her own hands."

"She would rather die."

Jūzō's tone was firm. "Before that, she would choose death."

"Interesting." Arashi smiled.

The more difficult the challenge, the more intriguing it was to conquer.

"Tell me about the current situation in the Hidden Mist."

He shifted the topic. "Is Yagura Karatachi really that despised?"

At that name, Jūzō clenched his fist, eyes filled with hatred.

His voice dropped low, like it was forced from his throat.

"Lord, you can't imagine it. The Hidden Mist now isn't a ninja village anymore—it's a living hell."

"The name Bloody Mist was forged with the lives of Mist ninja."

"Lord, do you know what the graduation exam at our Ninja Academy is?"

Arashi, of course, knew, but remained silent.

Hearing it from someone who lived through it carried more weight than any report.

Jūzō continued, "The Academy's graduation exam forces students to kill each other. Only those who kill their comrades are qualified to graduate."

"Countless talented children didn't die on the battlefield—they died at the hands of their own friends."

"He also ordered the purge of all Bloodline Limit families, calling them remnants that threaten the village's stability."

"The Kaguya clan was driven outside the village, the Hōzuki clan either died or fled… anyone with special abilities is hunted as a monster."

"The whole village is filled with suspicion and fear. Neighbors inform on each other, subordinates betray their superiors… no one lives like a human anymore."

"What's laughable is that his reason for all this is to 'purify and stabilize the village.'"

Jūzō's body trembled with rage.

Arashi listened quietly, his expression unchanged.

He already knew Yagura Karatachi was just a puppet.

The true mastermind was Uchiha Obito.

"If that's the case, why didn't you join the rebel army?" Arashi asked. "With your strength, you'd be invaluable to them."

The anger faded from Jūzō's face, replaced by sorrow. He gave a bitter smile.

"It's useless."

"What good would killing one Yagura Karatachi do?"

"The Elders who backed him and the clans that crave power would just choose another Yagura."

"The name would change, but the system would stay the same."

"As long as the Mist's man-eating rules remain, no matter who becomes Mizukage, nothing will change."

"Elder Genji wants to reform it, and Mei Terumī wants to save it, but they're too naive."

"They think they can patch the cracks, make small repairs to something already rotten to the core."

"But I…"

He gripped the hilt of his blade, despair filling his eyes.

"What I want is to dig out that rotten root, burn it, and everything above it."

Arashi finally smiled in satisfaction.

Yes.

A man driven to despair should have such resolve.

"Then why do you trust me?"

Arashi looked straight into his eyes. "Why believe I won't become the next Yagura Karatachi? Just because of that technique I showed you? You refused before."

Jūzō fell silent.

He looked up at the butterfly resting on the dead branch.

He remembered what he saw after entering the Fire Capital.

Wide, smooth streets.
Civilians smiling freely.
Workers laboring with bright eyes and hope.

It was something he had never seen in the Land of Water. Something called hope.

"I don't trust anyone," Jūzō said slowly, his voice hoarse.

"And I don't trust you either."

"Your power… it's terrifying, but I've seen too many madmen with great power."

"But…"

He paused.

"On the way here, I saw your capital."

"I saw the faces of those civilians."

"They have food to eat, work to do, and no fear of losing everything overnight."

"You're building a new world. One I don't understand, but one where people can live like human beings."

His gaze met Arashi's, filled with awe.

"Destroying everything is easy."

"What's difficult is building something new on the ruins."

"Lord, you have the power to destroy, yet you choose to create order."

"I'm willing to take that gamble."

Arashi stood up, making a welcoming gesture.

"Then congratulations. You've chosen well. Welcome aboard."

"From today on, you'll remain with the envoy group. Stay hidden and don't expose yourself."

"I'll send someone to contact you. His codename is Shadow."

"Your task is to tell him everything you know about the Hidden Mist, word for word."

"Yes, Lord."

Arashi waved his hand. "Go."

Jūzō bowed, said no more, hoisted his Kubikiribōchō, and leapt away into the night.

Only Arashi remained in the courtyard.

(To be continued.)

...

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Chapter Text

Chapter 16: The Senju Clan

The night wind swept through the courtyard, rustling a few withered leaves.

The candlelight flickered, elongating Arashi's shadow.

Biwa Jūzō's presence had vanished.

The butterfly, which had appeared from nothing, dissolved into specks of light and faded away.

Arashi took a sip of the now-cold tea and suddenly spoke, addressing the empty moon gate.

"How long do you think Biwa Jūzō will be useful?"

There was no reply.

Only the whisper of the wind.

After a few breaths, the shadow of the dead plum tree in the corner seemed to stir.

A dark figure separated from the shadow and silently appeared behind Arashi.

He was dressed entirely in black, with no Chakra fluctuations, and even his breathing and heartbeat were imperceptible.

Then a hoarse voice broke the silence.
"His value depends on what you need him for, my Lord."

"As for how long he'll be useful…"

"I will keep an eye on him."

Arashi showed no surprise. He finished the cold tea in his cup.

The man in black was Aono Saku, his Anbu.

Publicly, he was only a steward managing several of the Daimyo Manor's businesses, an ordinary merchant.

But no one knew that this silent man carried a surname capable of shaking the entire ninja world.

Senju.

Arashi's gaze fell on Saku, and his thoughts drifted back several years.

Back then, the Second Hokage, Senju Tobirama, a man who embodied realism,
had planted a hidden piece when he established the alliance with the Daimyo's household.

He personally chose a branch of his clan with pure bloodline, erased their existence as ninja, and secretly sent them to the Fire Capital.

This group of Senju, named Anbu, carried a single mission: to protect the Daimyo line for generations, becoming his unseen eyes and deadly blade in the shadows.

However, due to the unexpected death of the previous Daimyo, the transition of command was interrupted, and this force was forgotten for decades.

It was not until Arashi, at the age of twelve, discovered a secret decree handwritten by Senju Tobirama in a hidden compartment of his late father's study that he awakened this dormant power.

Using that decree, he reactivated the lost Anbu.

After taking control of them, he began recruiting elite ninja from across the world, expanding the Anbu's reach, just as he had done today with Biwa Jūzō.

During the bloody succession struggle years ago, it was Saku and his Anbu who had blocked countless assassination attempts and crushed every conspiracy, allowing Arashi to emerge victorious.

The strength displayed during the delegation's arrival earlier was merely a fraction of his Anbu's true power.

This was his real foundation.

Even without the System, the absolute loyalty and terrifying strength of the Senju Anbu alone was enough to make any who underestimated him pay the ultimate price.

"Any new developments from Konoha?" Arashi asked calmly, pulling his thoughts back to the present.

"No movements," Saku replied, "but thirty people with suspicious behavior entered the capital this afternoon."

"From their actions, it can be confirmed they are Root ninja."

"After entering the city, they split up. Two of them went directly to the west side and have not returned."

"Did you send someone to follow them?"

"Yes. Jin is trailing them. Every one of their actions is under surveillance."

Arashi's expression did not change. "It seems Danzō still could not hold back."

He had expected this. Once the budget cuts were announced, Danzō would inevitably act, but even he had not thought it would be this soon.

There was no need to guess what a man with only ten points of loyalty would do.

He would naturally seek out the remnants who failed in the last power struggle.

"What about those rats?" Arashi asked. "Have they contacted the Konoha guests?"

"My Lord, they have," Saku said hoarsely. "It has been confirmed that their leaders are your third brother, Chiba Shu, and his uncle, Saionji Takashi."

"They have gathered around two hundred assassins and rogue samurai. They are hiding in the sewers beneath the city's west side, using it as a temporary base."

"As for those two Root ninja, during their meeting with Saionji Takashi, they handed him a scroll."

"A scroll... do you know what is inside?"

"Unclear. Jin did not dare get too close."

"Hm..." Arashi tapped his fingers lightly against the table.

He did not need to guess. The scroll no doubt contained Danzō's promise to support his useless brother once the deed was done.

To think Danzō wanted to trade a mere piece of paper for the life of the Daimyo.

He was still the same schemer.

But that was fine.

Everything was unfolding exactly as Arashi had expected.

"Should we eliminate them now?" Saku asked quietly.

With the power of the Anbu, erasing such a ragtag group would be effortless.

"No."

Arashi raised his hand to stop him.

"Fishing takes patience."

"Let them keep preparing. Whatever they lack, give it to them. I want them to grow arrogant, to believe destiny favors them and victory is in their grasp."

"I want every rat to crawl out of its hole that day."

Arashi turned, the moonlight casting half his face in silver light, his gaze cold and murderous.

"Issue the order. Keep them under close watch, but do not alert them."

"It is time for the delegations from the four nations and those people from Konoha to witness the true majesty of the Fire Daimyo."

"As you command."

Saku bowed lower, feeling the overwhelming and ruthless will emanating from his young lord.

"You may go."

"Yes."

As soon as the words left Arashi's mouth, Saku's figure melted back into the shadows and vanished.

The courtyard returned to silence.

The sky was beginning to pale.

A new day was about to dawn.

And what awaited him was the day after tomorrow, the grand coronation ceremony prepared just for him.

At the same time.

Fire Capital, west side, underground sewers.

The cold, damp air carried a nauseating stench of mold and decay.

A faint fire flickered over a dry stone platform, illuminating several twisted faces.

Saionji Takashi held a scroll, studying it carefully.

Beside him, a sallow-faced young man with sunken cheeks, Chiba Shu, watched impatiently.

"Uncle, stop reading. Ask them already how much support Konoha is offering."

Shu's voice was hoarse and trembling with excitement as he stared at the two masked Root ninja before him.

"Shu-sama, please calm yourself," Saionji Takashi said soothingly, then turned to the two Root operatives, bowing humbly.

"Gentlemen, we understand Danzō-sama's promise. But on the day of the ceremony, the defenses will be tight. With our limited manpower..."

One of the Root ninja finally spoke, his voice cold. "Our mission is to ensure Arashi dies at the coronation ceremony."

He did not answer the question, merely stated the command.

"The scroll makes it clear. Once Arashi dies, Danzō-sama will intervene personally, stabilize the Fire Capital, and recognize you, Shu-sama, as the sole legitimate Daimyo of the Land of Fire."

Shu roared, "I am asking if you will take action. Do not forget, that bastard Arashi also has ninja guarding him."

"Rest assured, Shu-sama," the Root ninja replied calmly. "Our presence here is the greatest assistance."

"When you strike, those ninja guards will be handled by someone else."

"Danzō-sama only cares about results. The process is yours to create."

Hearing that, Saionji Takashi let out a quiet breath of relief.

Shu, however, burst into wild laughter, his eyes gleaming with madness.

"Good. Good. Good."

He shouted the word three times, clenching his fists.

"As long as I can kill that bastard, I will do anything. I will take back everything I lost, the throne, the wealth, and that woman, Kiyotsuki Yui."

His voice was filled with jealousy and hatred.

The two Root ninja exchanged glances, saying nothing more.

A moment later, their figures blurred and melted into the darkness.

In the sewers, only Chiba Shu's crazed laughter echoed endlessly.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 17: The Eve of the Bloody Ceremony

The day before the coronation ceremony.

Daimyo Manor, Main Hall.

The hall was brightly lit, as if it were daytime.

Hundreds of attendants and ceremonial officials moved about, yet the entire place was silent.

Everyone's face carried a solemn expression.

Arashi stood on the high platform in the center of the main hall.

He wore a layered Jūnihitoe robe embroidered with golden flame patterns that shimmered in the candlelight.

Two elderly ceremonial officials knelt before him, carefully adjusting the hem of his robe.

"Your Highness, for tomorrow's ceremony, you must enter through the Suzakumon Gate and walk ninety-nine steps."

"When ascending the platform, your left foot must go first, symbolizing the treading down of the old and the creation of a new chapter."

Chief ceremonial official Yamano's voice was aged and respectful, explaining every detail, afraid of even the smallest mistake.

He had already repeated these instructions to Arashi no less than ten times.

Arashi stood motionless, his expression blank, letting them adjust his attire.

These tedious rituals were utterly boring to him.

Compared to the coronation itself, tomorrow's grand performance of "executing the tyrant" would be far more interesting.

But to make that performance convincing, he had to play his part well.

The young ruler about to take control of the world.

His gaze drifted unconsciously toward the west side of the city.

West of the city, underground waterways.

This place was like another world entirely.

A foul stench filled the damp air.

Water dripped steadily from cracks in the stone ceiling, splashing into the murky channels below.

In a corner, a fire flickered weakly.

Over two hundred samurai and ronin sat or stood nearby, silently wiping their weapons.

The unsteady firelight reflected off their blades, illuminating their crazed faces.

They were remnants of defeated factions from the succession struggle.

Desperate men who had already gambled everything and lost.

Saionji Takashi stood on a raised platform, frowning as he looked down at the foul water below.

His thoughts were as chaotic as the sewage.

Unease gnawed at him.

A deep, restless unease.

Behind him came the sound of labored breathing.

Chiba Shu's eyes were bloodshot, his face flushed with feverish excitement.

He stared fixedly at the only passage leading upward, like a wild beast caged too long, both restless and eager.

"Uncle, do you think... we can really trust Danzō?"

His voice was hoarse, trembling with conflicting emotions.

Trust?

Saionji Takashi sneered inwardly.

He knew better than anyone that a schemer like Danzō was simply using them.

They were just a blade.

And once used, a blade could easily be discarded.

But they had no other path left.

Saionji said nothing, merely lifting his gaze toward the distant Daimyo Manor.

Daimyo Manor, Main Hall.

"When receiving the Royal Seal, you must raise it high above your head with both hands, then turn to face the civil and military officials, and face all the people under heaven."

Yamano continued his endless explanations.

As he turned to adjust the long sash behind Arashi's robe, and no one was watching, Kiyotsuki Yui, who stood quietly nearby, slipped out through a hidden side door.

Her movements were quick, and she held a small folded paper in her hand.

In an unnoticed corner of the corridor, she passed the note to an old servant trimming a bonsai, then calmly returned to her place.

The entire exchange took less than a dozen breaths.

When she resumed her position, her breathing was steady, her face unchanged, as if she had never moved at all.

None of the guards or ceremonial officials noticed.

Only Arashi, standing silently on the platform, revealed the faintest smile, one filled with amusement.

He made no sound and did not even glance in her direction, as though nothing had happened.

The subtle expression vanished in an instant.

His consciousness spread outward from the Daimyo Manor, flowing across the city like a tide.

He began observing other, more interesting lights.

At the Konoha annex, Minato's light shone brightly and steady. He was buried in Hokage paperwork, a diligent young man.

Hiruzen's light was dimmer. He sat alone in his room, quietly smoking his pipe.

And Danzō's light flickered coldly, like an ominous star.

He was waiting too, deep in the sewers.

"Still no word?"

Chiba Shu suddenly turned and grabbed Saionji Takashi's arm, his nails digging into flesh.

"The man we planted in the City Guard said he'd deliver the final defense map for the ceremony today!"

"Don't rush," Saionji replied, forcing calm. "At a time like this, you must keep your head."

"Calm? How can I be calm?"

Chiba Shu shoved him away, his face twisting in hysteria.

"Tomorrow! Tomorrow is that bastard's coronation! If we fail, we all die!"

"I don't want to die! I am the true Daimyo! That throne is mine, mine!"

His roar echoed through the narrow tunnel.

The outlaws around him turned their heads, their eyes filled with a mix of pity and scorn.

A wave of helplessness washed over Saionji.

Was this truly the man he had chosen to follow?

At that moment, a faint whistle sounded in the distance.

It was their agreed signal.

Everyone tensed, their eyes snapping toward the dark end of the tunnel.

A man in civilian clothes stumbled toward them, his face glowing with excitement.

"Sir! Shu-sama! We got it! The defense map has been obtained!"

He presented a scroll as if offering a sacred treasure.

Chiba Shu snatched it eagerly and unrolled it.

Saionji leaned in close.

The scroll detailed the guard deployment for tomorrow's ceremony, the patrol routes, even the shift changes.

"Excellent!"

Chiba Shu's eyes gleamed with feverish light.

"Look here! The east tower has the weakest defense. Our men can break through from there."

"And here, when Arashi ascends the platform, he'll only have twelve guards. We have just one chance!"

He jabbed his finger at the map, his voice rising with excitement.

The air in the tunnel ignited.

The outlaws' eyes burned with sudden fervor.

But as Saionji examined the overly detailed map, his unease deepened.

Too smooth.

Everything was going too smoothly.

He pressed for the map's source, and when he learned it had been delivered by Yui, he finally exhaled in relief.

Maybe he was just imagining things.

Daimyo Manor, Main Hall.

The rehearsal had ended.

The ceremonial officials and attendants withdrew.

Only Arashi and Yui remained.

Arashi had shed the heavy robes and changed into his usual clothes, finally feeling at ease.

He walked slowly to the hall's great doors and pushed them open.

The night wind swept in, cool and clean.

He looked down at the glowing city below.

Countless lights stretched into the distance, forming a sea of gold.

His gaze drifted past the rooftops and settled on the darkened west side of the city.

"The stage is set."

His calm voice carried on the night breeze.

Yui stood behind him, head bowed, her heart pounding uncontrollably.

She thought he was reflecting on the ceremony.

But something felt wrong.

Arashi suddenly smiled, his tone laced with mockery.

"The bait has been cast, and the fish have taken it."

Yui froze.

What bait? What fish?

"Do you know why I kept you by my side?" Arashi's voice echoed softly.

Her lips parted, but she said nothing.

He chuckled quietly. "You think it's because of your beauty, don't you?"

He shook his head, his tone faintly pitying.

"Would a ruler keep an enemy close just for a pretty face?"

"Kiyotsuki Yui, you overestimate yourself and underestimate me."

A chill shot down her spine.

Enemy?

He even knew she was his enemy!

"You are beautiful, but that's all."

"In the world of power, beauty is the most useless thing."

Arashi turned, the moonlight outlining his sharp features and deep, unreadable eyes.

He walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. His touch was gentle, but his gaze was icy cold.

"Now, we just wait for those rats hiding in the sewers to crawl into the cage I prepared."

"And to that, I should thank you."

"If not for you, this play wouldn't have started so soon."

Each word struck her like a knife.

Only now did she understand.

The note she risked her life to send, the message she believed would change fate—it had all been part of his trap.

He had never tried to stop her. He had simply let the trap spring shut on its own.

An icy dread crept through her as her body trembled violently.

A devil. He was a devil.

Arashi watched her despair as though admiring a work of art.

Moments later, he turned away.

"Guards."

"Take her away."

"Once the rats are caught, I'll deal with her myself."

(To be continued.)

 

Chapter 18: The Daimyo Ascends the Throne

The 47th year of Konoha, Autumn.

Calendar Annotation: Auspicious for sacrifices, blessings, and enthronement.

Before dawn, a thin layer of morning mist enveloped the Fire Capital.

But the city had already awakened.

Countless civilians poured into the streets, dressed in their finest clothes, faces beaming with excitement, forming a human tide that surged toward the city center.

"Mom, hurry up! Sanrō said that today at the square, not only will there be blessing cakes, but Daimyo-sama's manor also prepared a huge pot of meat stew, and everyone gets a share!" a half-grown child shouted, tugging at his mother's sleeve.

"Run slower, don't fall!" the woman scolded, though her pace quickened. Looking at her son's new clothes, her face softened with maternal affection. "If it weren't for Daimyo-sama waiving those harsh taxes and the city workshops paying fair wages, let alone new clothes, we wouldn't even know how to survive this winter."

"Ha, food and clothing are nothing! The real thing is seeing Daimyo-sama with our own eyes!" a burly, bearded man nearby laughed loudly. "If not for Daimyo-sama, would we be living so well now? Hahaha!"

"Yes, yes, my family has meat with every meal now, all thanks to Daimyo-sama's grace!"

Laughter and chatter filled the air.

Brand new flame banners fluttered along the streets.

Armored guards stood at every intersection, their postures firm and eyes sharp, yet their presence made the civilians feel secure.

The sun pierced through the morning mist, casting golden light that gilded the city.

Today was the day the new king ascended the throne.

It was the day the Land of Fire turned a new page.

Unlike the festive crowd in the square, the mood on the viewing platform was much more restrained.

Envoys from the four great nations were already seated, and beneath their calm expressions, a silent tension lingered.

The envoy from Kumo stood with his arms crossed, his face full of impatience.

He looked at the dense crowd of civilians below, his expression openly disdainful. "A bunch of lowlifes, and they're allowed to witness a grand ceremony like this? The Land of Fire grows more unruly by the day."

The envoy from Iwa narrowed his eyes slightly, maintaining a calm composure.

The envoy from Suna had a weathered face and said nothing.

Behind him, a masked kunoichi vigilantly scanned the surroundings.

In the delegation from Kiri, the young noble yawned lazily, his face gloomy.

Jūzō stood behind him, head bowed, no one knowing what he was thinking.

From the corner of his eye, he occasionally glanced toward another guard, Mei Terumī.

She was dressed sharply today, highlighting her graceful figure. Her face was calm and aloof, though her heart was far from tranquil.

The sincere admiration and affection on the civilians' faces below puzzled her.

In her eyes, weren't Daimyo and nobles all bloodsuckers who exploited the common folk?

Why was the scene here completely different from what she had seen in Kiri?

On the other side, in Konoha's viewing area,

Minato sat at the forefront, his golden hair glinting in the sunlight.

Looking at the sea of people before him, each face filled with hope, a surge of emotion rose within him.

The will of the people was the foundation of the Land of Fire.

For the first time, he deeply felt the true weight of the words "nation" and "people."

Behind him, Hiruzen remained silent.

The old man wore plain clothes, holding an unlit pipe in his hand.

His cloudy eyes swept over the passionate civilians, then the alert guards, and finally rested on the ninety-nine steps leading up to the Supreme Throne.

That was once a place he had to look up to.

And now, he was about to lose even the right to do so.

In the corner, Danzō's single eye gleamed coldly.

His hands, hidden within his sleeves, were clenched tightly.

At the same time, on the east side of the square, in the underground wine cellar of a tavern.

It was dark and damp, filled with the sour stench of fermenting wine.

Nearly a hundred desperadoes were crammed inside, the stench of sweat mixed with the odor of poison smeared on their weapons, creating a nauseating air.

Shu and Takashi stood at the very front.

Through the cellar's small ventilation shaft, they could hear the cheers outside, growing louder and louder.

The sound was like red-hot iron needles piercing Shu's heart.

"Uncle, it's started outside." His voice trembled, lips pale.

Takashi's face was equally pale.

He gripped Shu's shoulder tightly, growling, "Stay calm. Remember the plan. Wait for the bells. When you hear the ninth bell, that's our signal to move."

Shu gritted his teeth, staring at the thin ray of light through the shaft, eyes bloodshot.

The throne, Yui, wealth, they should all be mine.

He roared silently in his heart again and again.

The cheers outside were like a death knell, and also the flame igniting his ambition.

Dong.

A deep, drawn-out bell chime echoed from the highest point of the Daimyo Manor, resounding across the entire city.

The noisy square instantly fell silent.

In the cellar, every desperado gripped their weapon tightly.

Shu's breathing nearly stopped.

One, two, three.

When the ninth bell reverberated across the sky, Takashi suddenly opened his eyes, madness flashing within them.

He said nothing, only raised his hand sharply and let out a suppressed roar.

"Attack!!"

Above the square, silence reigned.

Tens of thousands of civilians, the delegations of the four great nations, Konoha's high-ranking officials, all eyes turned to the end of the ninety-nine steps.

Under everyone's gaze, the heavy vermilion gate symbolizing supreme authority slowly opened.

Chief Ceremonial Officer Yamano, dressed in the most solemn ceremonial robes and holding the congratulatory text, walked out step by step.

He reached the top of the steps, facing the heavens and the gathered crowd, and chanted in a loud, clear voice.

"The auspicious hour has arrived."

"Welcome."

"The Land of Fire's new Daimyo, Chiba Arashi-sama."

As his words fell, impassioned and elegant music soared into the sky.

A figure appeared behind the vermilion gate.

He wore a ceremonial robe embroidered with golden flame patterns, a golden crown symbolizing the monarch's position upon his head.

Just by standing there silently, an indescribable majesty spread across the square.

The impatience on the Kumo envoy's face vanished, and his bulky frame instinctively leaned forward.

A sharp glint flickered in the Iwa envoy's eyes.

Minato was struck deeply.

That bearing, that overwhelming presence, he suddenly realized the gap between the Hokage and the Daimyo might be far greater than he had imagined.

Arashi moved.

His left foot stepped forward first.

He ascended the first step.

His pace was slow but steady.

Each step echoed solemnly in the silent square.

The civilians below unconsciously held their breath, faces full of reverence and awe.

Step after step, Arashi climbed the ninety-nine steps.

He arrived at the elevated platform carved from a single massive stone.

At the center of the platform, on a jade tray, a crystal completely crimson in color lay quietly.

The National Stone.

A symbol of the nation's supreme power.

Yamano's voice rang out again, trembling with excitement.

"Please, Daimyo-sama, accept the Nation's Stone, restore balance to the land and bring peace to its people."

Arashi slowly stepped forward.

He extended his hands, his movements solemn and deliberate.

The entire square was so quiet that even a pin drop could be heard.

Everyone widened their eyes, witnessing a moment destined for history.

Arashi's hands were about to touch the National Stone.

At that exact moment.

"Kill!!"

A blood-curdling roar erupted.

"Kill that usurping tyrant! Avenge the former Daimyo!!"

Boom.

The corner tower on the east side of the square exploded violently.

The terrifying blast swept away nearby civilians.

Dozens of dark figures burst out from the smoke.

They wielded long blades, eyes bloodshot, charging madly toward the platform.

Chaos erupted among the crowd.

Screams and cries echoed through the air.

"Protect Daimyo-sama!!"

The guards roared, forming a human wall against the attackers.

But this was only the beginning.

"Move out!"

From the crowds in the west, north, and south, another hundred ambushers suddenly erupted.

They formed a massive encirclement from all directions, their target clear, Arashi.

The gleam of blades, flashes of steel, and blood instantly stained the sacred square red.

An assassination attempt on the new king.

A long-planned murder plot, unfolding under the gaze of all.

Had begun.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 19: Trapped

The plaza instantly turned into hell.

People ran in terror, pushing and trampling one another in panic.

The original joy and solemnity were shattered by the sudden assassination.

"Protect Daimyo-sama!"

The City Guards closest to the high platform reacted first. They formed a wall with their bodies, raised their spears and shields, and roared as they charged toward the desperadoes emerging from the smoke and dust.

Clang.

Blades clashed with spear tips, sparks flying as hot blood splattered.

"Minato!"

Hiruzen stood up abruptly, the pipe in his hand cracking.

Minato's golden hair fluttered as his figure flashed, about to rush forward.

The Konoha ninja all rose at once, their killing intent flaring as they prepared to assist.

But just as they were about to move.

Whoosh.

Whoosh.

Whoosh.

A series of sharp sounds came from all around.

More than ten dark figures silently appeared in front of them, blocking their way.

They were dressed in the Daimyo Manor's guard uniforms, yet an eerie aura radiated from them, the smell of blood thick in the air.

"Everyone, please calm down."

The leading dark figure's voice was hoarse. He didn't turn around, only extended a black-gloved hand in a halting gesture.

Minato's forward motion stopped abruptly, his golden eyes filled with shock.

Their concealment was flawless. Even he hadn't noticed them before now.

In that brief pause, the assassins broke through the City Guards' defense line. With sinister grins, they were about to step onto the high platform.

At that very moment.

Another wave of sharp sounds filled the air.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

From beneath the high platform, behind the pillars of the main hall, and even from cracks in the stone floor, over thirty dark figures shot out.

They were silent, carrying a chilling killing intent, like a vast net that instantly closed around the high platform.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Intense sounds of metal clashing erupted all at once.

The battle on the high platform turned fierce in an instant.

Over thirty Anbu engaged the assassins. Amidst the flashing blades, they drove all the attackers off the platform.

This sudden development made Shu and Takashi, who were hiding in the crowd, extremely anxious.

In their plan, this was supposed to be a lightning-fast strike.

But the surrounding guards had already begun to re-form their encirclement, cold spear tips closing in from every direction.

If they delayed any longer, everything would be lost.

Under immense pressure, Shu's psychological defenses completely collapsed.

He looked like a madman, his crimson eyes fixed on the viewing platform as he roared with all his might.

"Danzō-sama! Shimura Danzō! You promised me! Where are your people! Hurry up and act!"

His roar silenced the entire plaza.

On the viewing platform, the envoys from the four nations looked bewildered, and the people of Konoha could barely hide their shock.

"Act!"

A sharp shout came from behind the Konoha delegation.

Boom.

After a brief silence, nearly thirty figures wearing pure white masks suddenly erupted from among the fleeing civilians in the plaza.

Root.

Their movements were swift and coordinated. Ignoring the surrounding guards trying to stop them, their short blades drew arcs of death as they charged straight toward the high platform.

This sudden turn instantly broke the balance of battle.

The Root ninjas and desperadoes converged, and with unstoppable force, they stormed the high platform.

Above the high platform, blades flashed, flesh and blood flew, and killing intent filled the air.

"Wind Release, Vacuum Sphere!"

A Root ninja took a deep breath, firing several rapidly spinning air bullets like cannonballs toward an Anbu.

The Anbu didn't dodge. He quickly formed hand signs, and a thick wall of earth rose from the ground.

"Earth Release, Earth-Style Wall!"

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The air bullets exploded against the wall, blasting craters into it and sending debris flying, but they couldn't break through.

At that moment, another Root ninja appeared behind him like a ghost, his poisoned short blade thrusting silently toward his back.

But a katana imbued with pale green chakra blocked from the side. When the blades collided, wind-attribute chakra erupted, sending the Root ninja flying backward.

"Water Release, Water Dragon Bullet!"

On another side, an Anbu opened his mouth and released a torrent of water, sending two desperadoes tumbling through the air.

Limbs flew, lives were lost one after another, and blood soaked the high platform.

From afar, Arashi's figure looked like a lone boat in a raging storm, ready to capsize at any moment.

"Danzō! You..."

Hiruzen trembled all over, his head snapping sharply toward his old comrade. His eyes were blazing with fury.

Minato looked confused, glancing from Danzō to Hiruzen.

Uchiha Fugaku's Sharingan spun rapidly, the three tomoe rotating before fading again.

Nara Shikaku closed his eyes in frustration, gritting his teeth as he muttered, "That idiot..."

On the other side, the reactions of the four nation delegations were mixed after their initial shock.

The envoy from Kumo grinned, unable to hide his sneer.

The envoy from Iwa stroked his beard, narrowing his eyes as he calculated how much benefit this internal chaos in the Land of Fire could bring his country.

"We must provide support!"

Seeing the Daimyo in danger, Minato grew increasingly anxious and was about to move again.

But the Anbu blocking them still didn't budge.

The leading Anbu slowly turned his head, his voice devoid of emotion. "Fourth Hokage-sama, the farce on the high platform does not require your intervention."

"Your Konoha's troubles are not here."

He looked past Minato, his cold gaze settling on the one-eyed man behind him, whose face had gone ashen beneath his bandaged right eye.

"Right now, what you should be doing is apprehending the traitor who attempted regicide, Danzō Shimura."

"Nonsense!"

Hiruzen's furious roar overlapped the Anbu's words.

He was trembling with rage, pointing at the Anbu leader as he shouted, "The Daimyo's safety is paramount! Why aren't you rescuing him? What are you doing blocking us here!"

If the Daimyo of the Land of Fire were killed before his eyes, that would mark the end of everything.

He, the Third Hokage, would become a sinner of the Land of Fire.

Minato urgently added, "That's right! Save the Daimyo first! We can discuss other matters later!"

But no matter what Hiruzen and Minato said, the Anbu leader remained silent, still blocking them firmly, which only made their anxiety grow.

Others in the Konoha camp, however, had different thoughts.

Fugaku's eyes flickered as he quietly gestured to his clansmen beside him, signaling them to observe.

In his view, this might be an opportunity.

The new Daimyo was too powerful, constantly suppressing Konoha.

If he died, and that fool Shu supported by Danzō took over, it might not be bad for the Uchiha Clan, or even for Konoha as a whole.

A weak Daimyo would benefit Konoha far more than a strong one.

Hyuga Hiashi's face was ashen, his Byakugan clearly observing something, yet he also didn't move.

Nara Shikaku rubbed his forehead in frustration, muttering to himself.

He had already seen through the chessboard behind this assassination.

Daimyo.

Traitor.

Danzō.

Konoha's high command. One wrong move, and everything would collapse.

The Konoha shinobi's hearts wavered, none able to make an immediate decision.

Above the high platform, the bloody battle only grew fiercer.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 20: Turtle in a Jar

The addition of the Root ninjas was like a sharp blade, tearing through the Anbu's defenses.

The tide of battle instantly reversed.

The desperadoes who had been suppressed below the platform surged upward again under the leadership of the Root ninjas, engaging in a bloody struggle with the Anbu.

"Kill!"

Seeing the path to the high platform open, Shu's suppressed roar erupted into a bellow.

He gripped his blade, his bloodshot eyes locked on the richly dressed figure standing on the platform, and led his last dozen loyal retainers in a charge.

The few remaining City Guards blocking the way could only fight while retreating.

There were no more obstacles ahead.

Victory was within reach.

"Arashi!"

Shu, like a madman, roared as he charged.

"You thief! Bastard!"

"Do you see this? This is the will of the people! This is divine will! No one will obey a tyrant like you!"

"Today, I will drag you down from that position that doesn't belong to you, in front of the entire world!"

His roar echoed across the square, clearly reaching the ears of everyone in the viewing stands.

In the viewing area, Danzō stood up, his single eye staring past the chaos ahead, directly at Hiruzen.

"It's all over, Hiruzen."

His voice was calm and resolute.

"For the future of Konoha, sacrifice is necessary."

"This new Daimyo is too strong, and his ambition already threatens the village. Above the Hokage, there should be no one else giving orders."

Hiruzen trembled all over, pointing at Danzō, his lips shaking, unable to utter a word.

He had never imagined Danzō's audacity would reach such heights.

No warning, no testing.

This was a direct killing blow.

It was regicide.

"Mad... You madman..." Hiruzen's voice was hoarse.

"I am doing this for Konoha."

Danzō repeated, his tone unshaken.

He looked at Arashi, who was surrounded by assassins, as if he were already dead.

"After he dies, Shu will take his place."

"A weak and incompetent Daimyo best suits Konoha's interests."

"Then, I will personally explain to the entire ninja world that this was a righteous act to restore order."

"And you, Hiruzen, all you need to do is watch."

On the high platform, Shu finally reached Arashi.

He and his last few loyal retainers surrounded Arashi and several City Guards, their blades pointed at his calm, dignified face.

Shu panted heavily, sweat and blood mixing together, running into his eyes and stinging them painfully.

But he didn't care.

He stared at Arashi, who stood just an arm's length away, then glanced greedily at the National Stone in Arashi's hand, his eyes filled with jealousy and venom.

"Why aren't you speaking?"

Shu sneered, pointing his blade at Arashi.

"Weren't you so eloquent? So impressive?"

"Now, your guards, your army, can't even protect themselves!"

"Your throne, your wealth, your woman, they'll all be mine soon!"

"Speak!"

But Arashi stood there quietly.

There was no fear, no anger, not even the slightest trace of emotion on his face.

His deep eyes looked at Shu as if watching a clown.

"Are you done talking?"

He finally spoke, his tone calm and indifferent.

"You..." Shu's fury flared even stronger at that unshakable composure.

"My dear third brother."

Without waiting for Shu to reply, Arashi's lips curved slightly.

"Do you really think that with these desperadoes, you can kill me?"

"Do you also think that the position Danzō promised you is one you can actually hold?"

Arashi stepped forward, brushing aside a City Guard, completely ignoring Shu's raised blade.

The invisible pressure made Shu instinctively take a step back.

"A useless fool who sold out the family's interests for a chance at inheritance."

"A stray dog I personally threw out of the Fire Capital."

"A pitiful worm who could only crawl in the gutter, waiting for scraps and empty promises before daring to bare its fangs."

With each sentence, Shu's face grew paler.

Each word cut into him like a knife, stabbing deep into his fragile pride.

"Are you even worthy of coveting my throne?"

The final question completely shattered Shu's sanity.

"Ahhh!"

He let out a beastlike roar, his long blade raised high, bringing it down toward Arashi's head with all his might.

"Die for me!"

But just as the blade was about to fall, Arashi merely lifted his eyelids slightly.

Then, the world went silent.

Swish. Swish. Swish. Swish.

Countless sounds of rushing wind echoed from every direction.

One.

Ten.

Fifty.

Over a hundred dark figures appeared silently on the roofs of the main hall, in the clock towers around the square, and from the shadows of nearby buildings.

They were dressed in black combat uniforms, their faces covered by pure black masks, each holding a standard long blade.

A wave of killing intent swept across the entire square.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The heavy sound of armor rang out from the four entrances of the square in perfect rhythm.

Squads of City Guards poured in like a tide.

Their steps were uniform, their shields forming an iron wall, their spear tips pointed outward, sealing off every escape route.

"Traitors, kill without mercy!"

The cold command was given.

The City Guard formations began contracting inward, their long spears thrusting like a forest of iron, mercilessly crushing all remaining rebels.

In Konoha's viewing area, Nara Shikaku suddenly looked up, his face pale with shock.

Hiashi's Byakugan activated to its fullest, veins bulging on his temples.

Not an illusion, not Shadow Clones.

Those were over a hundred shinobi, each with chakra levels comparable to a Jonin.

Fugaku's Sharingan spun wildly, disbelief flashing in his eyes.

Minato was frozen in place.

Hiruzen stood stunned.

In the area of the four nation delegations, the mocking smiles on the faces of the Kumo and Kiri envoys froze.

The Iwa envoy's hand, which had been stroking his beard, stopped midway.

The female ninja behind the Suna envoy's pupils contracted sharply.

Even Biwa Jūzō, who had already sworn loyalty, couldn't help but gasp at the sight of this power.

And Danzō, the muscles on his face twitched uncontrollably, his single eye filled with disbelief, horror, and despair.

A deception.

This had been a deception from beginning to end.

What weak defenses.

What an unguarded Daimyo Manor.

It was all a trap.

On the high platform, Shu's descending blade froze in midair.

Not because he wanted to stop, but because a black blade had already pressed against his wrist.

He turned stiffly to the side, seeing a person in a black mask standing beside him.

Looking around, he found that each of his loyal retainers now had a cold blade resting against their throats.

In the square, the Root ninjas and desperadoes who had been wreaking havoc were now completely surrounded.

The entire plaza fell silent once again.

Only the wind blew across the high platform, rustling the luxurious fabric of Arashi's robes.

Everyone understood.

This was a play.

A grand performance personally orchestrated by the new Daimyo, allowing every schemer to step onto the stage and act to their heart's content.

Now, everyone meant to be on stage was here.

It was time for the curtain to fall.

Arashi didn't even glance at Shu.

His gaze swept over the countless astonished, terrified faces, finally landing on the Chief Ceremonial Officer, who was crouched in the corner, pale and trembling.

Arashi beckoned him forward, then spoke calmly.

"Yamano."

"The ceremony continues."

(To be continued.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 21: The Bloody Ceremony

"Yamano.

The ceremony continues."

Arashi's calm voice rippled across the bloody square.

Yamano, who had collapsed on the ground, shivered and scrambled to his feet, his legs trembling uncontrollably with fear.

Continue the enthronement ceremony in this situation?

But when he looked up and met Arashi's gaze, all hesitation and fear vanished.

He picked up the scroll of the congratulatory message with shaking hands, forced himself not to look around, and raised his voice.

His sharp voice echoed clearly across the silent square.

"By the will of the Land of Fire and its people."

The moment his voice rang out, hundreds of Anbu became Shinigami harvesting lives.

No command, no roar.

Aono Saku, leading them, simply made a small waving gesture.

The slaughter began.

Pfft.

A black blade sliced across a desperado's throat, blood gushing like a spring.

The man clutched his neck, unable to even scream.

"Today, Arashi-sama, whose wisdom and resolve have won the people's trust, ascends to the throne of the Land of Fire."

Yamano's voice trembled.

On the other side, a Root ninja had just finished forming a hand sign when a poisoned black blade pierced his chest.

He looked down at the tip through his torso, his lips moved, then he fell straight down.

"He reformed the court and purged its corruption."

Two Anbu attacked from left and right, their long blades crossing.

A head flew into the air, madness still frozen on its face.

The headless body swayed twice, then crashed to the ground.

Yamano closed his eyes, not daring to look, mechanically reciting the congratulatory message.

The sounds of slaughter behind him made him afraid to listen.

"He brought peace to the people and prosperity to the land."

The sound of blades entering flesh, the crisp snap of bones, and dying screams.

All of it mixed with the solemn eulogy from his mouth.

On one side was praise for the new king's virtue, on the other was a hell of severed limbs.

This jarring scene left everyone on the viewing platform speechless.

When the last rebel was beheaded, only wails and heavy breathing remained in the square.

Just then, in Konoha's viewing area, the Anbu leader who had stopped the Konoha shinobi slowly turned around.

His gaze was like a torch, passing over Minato, bypassing Hiruzen, and finally locking onto the ashen-faced man.

The one-eyed Shimura Danzō, his eye bloodshot with anger and terror.

"Fourth Hokage-sama," his voice was cold and emotionless, "the rebellion has appeared. It is up to you, Konoha, to cleanse your own house."

The Konoha shinobi were stunned.

All eyes fixed on Danzō.

"Danzō!!" Hiruzen let out a roar of grief and indignation.

The moment he was named, Danzō knew it was over.

Without hesitation, he turned and fled.

"Stop him!"

"For Konoha!"

Several quick-reacting Konoha shinobi roared and gave chase.

Among them were Hyuga, Uchiha, Yamanaka, Aburame, and others who had long been dissatisfied with Danzō.

This was the best chance to show loyalty to the new Daimyo.

"Protect Danzō-sama!"

Around Danzō, the few remaining Root operatives screamed and turned to face their pursuers without hesitation.

"Wind Release, Vacuum Wave!"

"Secret Technique, Mind Body Switch Technique!"

But they faced dozens of furious comrades from Konoha.

A Root ninja had just spewed wind blades when a Hyuga's Gentle Fist struck all his vital tenketsu, his chakra stagnating instantly.

A moment later, three or four kunai pierced his throat.

Another Root ninja from the Yamanaka clan tried to seize control of his opponent's mind but was kicked in the head.

His skull caved in, and blood and brain matter splattered.

The battle started fast and ended even faster.

In just over a dozen breaths, all those Root operatives lay in pools of blood.

Danzō was surrounded in the center of the square.

He clutched his bleeding right arm, panting heavily, his single eye sweeping venomously over everyone around him.

"Danzō! You bastard! What are you trying to do!" Utatane Koharu trembled with rage, pointing at him and sharply questioning him.

"You have shamed Konoha completely! Surrender now!" Mitokado Homura's old face flushed, filled with pain and indignation.

Hiruzen walked forward step by step.

He looked at his lifelong comrade, both friend and foe, now so wretched, and his heart tangled with emotion.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Strike him?

His mind flashed back to the war-torn years, two young men back to back, sharing their last soldier pill.

"Hiruzen, keep going, you must survive."

"Danzō, we will protect this village together, until death."

The vows of old still echoed in his ears, yet now he had to personally kill the close friend who had grown up with him.

He could not do it.

The massacre in the square had ended.

Yamano's recitation had reached its last sentence.

"Now he ascends the throne to rule the realm. May the Will of Fire shine across the land."

After he finished, his legs gave out and he collapsed.

The entire square fell into eerie silence again.

Arashi took the scroll.

He held the National Stone in one hand and the congratulatory message in the other, slowly walking to the edge of the high platform.

"Hey, is it not over yet?"

In an instant, all eyes converged on him.

The next moment, they focused again on Danzō, who was surrounded, and Hiruzen, who continued walking toward him.

At this moment of heightened attention, the Anbu leader appeared beside Hiruzen like a ghost.

"Third Hokage-sama," his voice was not loud, but it pierced Hiruzen's heart, "this is an internal affair of your Konoha, a calamity you indulged."

He raised a hand and pointed.

First to the civilians trampled to death in the chaos, then to the four nations' delegations.

The faces of those delegates wore the expressions of spectators.

"Everyone is watching."

"It is you who must cut out this cancer and prove to the world that Konoha can still be saved."

"Or do you want my liege to take action personally and cleanse your house for you?"

"To declare to the world that you Konoha shinobi cannot even deal with your own traitors?"

The words were damning.

Hiruzen's body trembled, his vision blurred.

He understood the meaning.

If he did not act, the Daimyo would.

For the Daimyo to personally clean up a Hokage Advisor would be an immense humiliation.

He could feel the gazes from the delegations around him.

Pity, schadenfreude, and disdain.

Konoha's glory, the Hokage's dignity, were shattered at this moment.

The Anbu leader's voice rang out again, not loud, but very clear.

"Show your aura as a ninja hero, Sarutobi Hiruzen."

"Let everyone see whether your fangs have truly been worn down by time."

"This is for Konoha."

For Konoha.

Those words pierced Hiruzen's last line of defense.

For those words, he had compromised his entire life, and endured it.

Now, for those words, he had to kill his good friend with his own hands.

The Konoha shinobi around him did not speak, but the killing intent of some was no longer hidden.

"Do it, Hiruzen." At the end of the road, Danzō, who had seen through the situation, let out a resigned laugh.

The smile held relief, unwillingness, and self-mockery.

He straightened his hunched back, as if returning to those war-torn years, standing shoulder to shoulder with his close friend.

"To die by your hand, I have no complaints."

A thunderous sound echoed in Hiruzen's mind, countless fragments of memory exploding before his eyes.

The vows made as boys, sharing rice balls back to back, were crushed by reality.

He suddenly looked up, and in his cloudy eyes, all tenderness vanished, leaving only endless sorrow and fury.

"A Kage-level chakra burst forth with a thunderous roar."

Shinobi nearby stumbled and retreated under the pressure.

A suppressed wail, mixed with anger, echoed through the sky.

"Danzō!!!"

(To be continued.)

Chapter 22: Danzō's Death

Hiruzen's roar echoed across the square, filled with anger, sorrow, and despair crushed by reality.

His Kage-level aura was no longer restrained, sweeping across the entire venue.

The air over the square grew oppressive, hard to breathe.

Danzō smiled.

Facing Hiruzen's all-consuming killing intent, he showed no intention of resisting.

He straightened his back and met his old friend's gaze.

There was no malice, no calculation in his single eye, only the calm of someone who had seen through everything.

"Do it, Hiruzen."

"We have contended our entire lives, fought our entire lives."

"To die by your hand is not such a bad end."

"It is only a pity that I could not see the day Konoha truly stands at the pinnacle of the ninja world."

The bloodshot in Hiruzen's eyes deepened.

"Shut up!!"

He roared, vanishing from his spot.

The next moment, he appeared before Danzō, his weathered hand turning into a claw, thrusting for Danzō's heart.

There was no mercy in this strike.

Pfft.

The claw pierced flesh and blood.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

Hiruzen could feel the heart beneath his fingertips, pounding violently.

It was warm to the touch.

Just like decades ago, when the two shared a rice ball on the battlefield.

Danzō's body shook, blood gushing from his mouth.

He did not look down at his wound. He used his last bit of strength to raise his hand and gently pat the arm Hiruzen used to grab him.

The movement was light, as if in comfort.

"Hiruzen..."

"Be careful... of this Daimyo..."

"He is more evil... than the Uchiha..."

Before he could finish, the light in his eyes went out.

His arm fell limp.

Shimura Danzō, the Darkness of Konoha, leader of Root, a man of the same era as the Third Hokage.

He died because of his own ambition.

He died by the hand of his closest friend and lifelong rival.

Hiruzen slowly withdrew his hand.

Blood dripped from his fingers, pattering onto the cold stone, blooming into tiny flowers of red.

He stared blankly at Danzō's corpse, tears already streaming down his face.

He stood there without moving, letting the wind ruffle his hair.

Up close, more than half his hair was white.

The ninja hero looked twenty years older in that moment.

The surrounding noise could not break the silence here.

The Konoha shinobi watched, their expressions complex.

Sadness, anger, bewilderment, and an unspeakable sense of relief.

Minato clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.

Hiruzen's lonely figure pained him.

But he knew that from the moment Danzō rebelled, this outcome was already decided.

On the high platform.

Arashi watched without a ripple on his face.

It was as if only an annoying insect had died, not a Konoha Hokage Advisor.

He turned to the four nations' delegations on the viewing platform, clearly seeing the looks on their faces.

Seeing the Daimyo look over, they all lowered their heads.

The Kumo envoy's mockery had vanished, fine sweat beading on his forehead.

The Iwa envoy no longer stroked his beard. His hands hid in his sleeves, trembling slightly.

The Suna envoy's eyes held more apprehension than shock.

The Kiri envoy was equally fearful, not daring to meet his gaze.

Mei trembled slightly.

The cruelty and bloodshed of the Hidden Mist were visible struggle and tyranny.

But this man before her, with his silent machinations, was unseen.

He shed little blood, led them into his trap, and made Konoha's two giants kill each other, turning a ninja hero who had shaken the ninja world into a wretch who murdered his friend in front of everyone.

Such methods, such a heart, made her feel that whether it was Kirigakure, or the resistance she and Gengetsu had formed, it all seemed like a child's game.

Arashi was satisfied with their reactions.

This was precisely the effect he wanted.

Kill one to warn a hundred, deter all sides.

He slowly raised his hand, his voice sounding again, not loud, but reaching every corner of the square.

"Saku."

"Your subordinate is here."

The Anbu leader, wearing a black mask, appeared silently behind him and knelt on one knee.

"Clear the battlefield. Collect the civilians' remains, give them proper burial, and compensate their families."

"As for all rebels, display their heads at the city gates for three days."

"And the masterminds..."

Arashi's gaze fell on Saionji Takashi and Chiba Shu, who had long since collapsed into terrified heaps.

Compared to Shu, Saionji still had some defiance.

Though his legs trembled, he refused to collapse, glaring with hatred.

"Saionji Takashi, beheaded and displayed. Exterminate his clan."

"Chiba Shu, bind his limbs, silence him, and consign him to the State Prison."

"Let him live and watch how my Land of Fire grows stronger day by day."

"Yes." Aono Saku accepted the order and signaled for men to take them away.

"Arashi, you will die a terrible death, you... Ugh..."

As his fate was declared, Saionji cursed, only to be punched in the mouth by an Anbu, blood and teeth flying.

Shu trembled violently, extreme fear in his eyes. He made a gurgling sound, unable to beg for mercy.

Ignoring the dying dog's barking, Arashi looked toward the Konoha camp, his gaze landing on Minato.

"Fourth Hokage."

Minato's heart tightened and he straightened instinctively. "Daimyo-sama."

"The Third Hokage is exhausted. Take him back to rest."

Arashi's tone was flat.

"I do not wish to see a second internal strife in Konoha."

"Remember that."

A warning that disregarded the other party's status.

After what had happened, Minato bowed. "Yes."

In that moment, the era belonging to the Daimyo began.

Arashi nodded in satisfaction.

He looked at no one else and slowly walked back to the center of the high platform.

He raised both hands, solemnly lifting the National Stone that symbolized the highest authority of the Land of Fire.

Sunlight spilled down, and the intricate flame patterns on the stone seemed to come alive, burning brightly in his palm.

He held the National Stone high.

Facing the multitude.

Facing the world.

"The ceremony is complete!"

As the chief ceremonial officer shouted, the tens of thousands in the square fell silent for a heartbeat, then erupted in cheers like a crashing tide.

"Long live Lord Daimyo!!"

"Long live the Land of Fire!!"

Perhaps they did not understand politics or schemes.

But they had seen with their own eyes how the Daimyo crushed the rebellion with thunderous means, protecting their peace.

That was enough.

Amid the deafening cheers, a faint blue curtain of light, visible only to him, slowly unfolded before his eyes.

[Ding!]
[Main Quest: Lord of the Land of Fire, Stage Two, has been completed!]
[Quest Evaluation: Perfect, with lightning speed, in the spotlight of all, cleared internal and external enemies, established the Daimyo's supreme authority, and deterred petty schemers from all directions.]
[Quest rewards are being distributed...]
[Congratulations to the Host. You have received the reward: Economic Policy Sandbox!]

(To be continued.)

Chapter 23: White Silk

The grand ceremony concluded.

The scent of blood had not yet dissipated, and the populace began to exit in an orderly fashion, though the fervor on their faces had not faded.

They had witnessed a bloody baptism and the birth of a new Daimyo.

From today onward, the Land of Fire would have only one voice.

That would be the voice of the Daimyo. In the Daimyo Manor's bedchamber, the lingering sandalwood drove away the bloodstained air from outside.

Arashi was already dressed in loose black casual clothes, leaning against a soft couch covered with snow-white fox fur.

He held a cup of clear tea, a maid fanning him from behind, his expression leisurely and content.

He had schemed for over a decade, rising from an overlooked illegitimate son to a ruler of a nation.

From this moment on, whether by law or name, he was the sole dominator of this land.

This feeling of holding the fate of countless lives in his palm was indeed delightful.

Thump, thump, thump.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Enter."

Arashi did not even lift his eyelids.

The elderly butler, Gen, pushed the door open. His steps made almost no sound.

"Reporting, my lord, Kiyotsuki Yui is demanding to see you in the State Prison."

"She asked this subordinate to convey a message. She said she spoke out of turn and begs you to give her another chance."

Kiyotsuki Yui.

At the name, a trace of coldness flickered in Arashi's eyes.

The most pathetic thing about a betrayer is believing their betrayal is unique, excusable, and that they can always expect forgiveness.

How naive.

Betrayal is always either zero times or countless times.

Like a broken bowl, even if glued back together, the cracks remain.

What is more, he had confiscated her family's property and executed her father and brothers.

Keeping her by his side so long was only to lure out bigger fish, and to give her a chance.

Now that the fish were in the net, the bait had no further use.

He would not bother to glue a broken bowl.

"A chance?"

Arashi was silent for a long time. His voice was soft, but his tone weighed heavy.

"I already gave her a chance. She did not cherish it. One who has betrayed has no right to my forgiveness."

"Come here." Arashi set down his teacup and beckoned Gen.

Gen quickly rose and approached.

Arashi slapped him across the face. The blow wasn't hard, but blood welled at Gen's lip. Startled, Gen dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor.

"This servant deserves death. I deserve death, my lord."

"Get up."

"Yes, yes." Gen trembled as he got up.

"Does it hurt?" Arashi asked.

Gen shook his head quickly. "No, no."

"Then it seems you have not learned your lesson."

"No, no, it hurts, it hurts."

"Good that it hurts. Remember, do not take what you should not take in the future."

"This subordinate will remember. I will remember."

Seeing Gen's fearful expression, Arashi felt a pang of regret. Gen had watched him grow up and had been loyal for over a decade. He did not wish to scold him too harshly.

Arashi's tone eased. "This time is fine. Since you took it, keep it safe and do not lose it."

"I would not dare. This subordinate will return it shortly."

"If I tell you to hold onto it, then hold onto it."

"...Yes."

"Gen, you watched me grow up. You should understand me. If everyone is like this, this country will rot."

"If the country rots, my position will not be stable, and you will receive no favors."

Tears streamed down Gen's face and he knelt again. "This subordinate was foolish. Fortunately, my lord reminded me. I almost made a grave mistake."

"Get up."

"As for Kiyotsuki Yui, she was once a young lady of a family famous in the Fire Capital, and she contributed to today's spectacle."

Arashi said, calm and measured, "It would be unseemly to let her die in a filthy State Prison. Prepare a length of white silk and send her to join her father and brothers."

"Give her a dignified end."

Gen bowed even lower and answered in a hoarse voice.

"...Yes, my lord."

Gen could feel the ruthlessness within the Daimyo's calm words.

In his heart, there was no soft-hearted benevolence, only rules.

Those who follow me prosper, those who defy me perish.

"There is one more matter."

Arashi seemed to recall something.

"First, go to the Konoha annex and notify the Fourth Hokage, Namikaze Minato."

"Tell him to see me in three days."

"During these three days, have him properly handle Konoha's internal affairs. I do not wish to hear any inappropriate voices again."

Arashi deliberately emphasized the words internal affairs.

The old butler understood perfectly.

This was to have the Fourth Hokage completely purge Danzō's remaining forces.

"Also tell him to prepare a detailed plan for the genius cultivation special fund I mentioned before, and bring it with him."

"Yes, this old servant will attend to it immediately."

Gen dared not show any slack. After bowing, he retreated quietly and slipped out the door.

Silence returned to the study.

After leaving the Daimyo Manor, Gen first went to the Konoha annex.

After conveying his lord's message to Minato, he did not linger, bowed, and took his leave.

Next, he headed straight to the State Prison.

This place was used to detain serious offenders.

Those incarcerated here were invariably immensely powerful or extremely heinous.

In the dark, damp corridor, mold grew everywhere. Ordinary nobles, even if they committed crimes, were not qualified to be held here.

When the prison door opened and Yui saw that the visitor was Gen, her eyes widened.

She struggled up from the ground, asking eagerly, "Uncle Gen, did he send you to fetch me? Has he forgiven me?"

Gen did not answer. He merely made a calm inviting gesture.

Then he led Yui out of the State Prison.

Along the way, Yui followed anxiously. She opened her mouth several times, her voice shifting from hopeful to trembling. "Uncle Gen, where are we going? My lord... is he willing to see me?"

Gen remained silent throughout.

The carriage did not head toward the Daimyo Manor, but stopped in front of a mansion that had long been sealed, where weeds had begun to grow.

When she saw the familiar gate, the last trace of color drained from Yui's face.

She was not a fool.

She understood immediately.

"No, no. I am not going in."

She shook her head frantically, tears streaming down her face. "Uncle Gen, I was wrong, I truly was! Please, take me to see my lord. I'll kneel and beg for his forgiveness. Please!"

She knelt, clutching Gen's trousers, pleading incoherently.

A trace of pity flashed in Gen's eyes, the regret of watching a young life walk toward death.

He sighed softly, his voice hoarse but unwavering.

"Young Miss Yui, this path was your choice."

He helped her up and handed her a set of clean, beautiful clothes, his tone helpless.

"My lord, out of old sentiment, has left you your final dignity."

"To complete your last journey cleanly in your own home is better than rotting in that filthy prison."

Gen led her into an inner room that had been cleaned. On a low table, a strip of white silk was neatly placed.

Yui's body went limp, all strength leaving her.

"This old servant merely follows orders."

Gen said one last sentence, then his aged figure slowly retreated and closed the door.

Outside the door, he stood silently, like a stone statue.

A long while passed.

A metallic sound came from inside. Only when the last echo faded did he turn and enter.

After confirming that Yui was dead, he had her body taken away, then left.

His figure once again merged into the night.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 24: Children?

Arashi stretched and sat up from the soft couch.

After dealing with miscellaneous matters, it was finally time to tally the gains.

He dismissed all the maids.

With a thought, a light blue screen unfolded before his eyes.

The System's cold, mechanical voice rang out.

[Ding!]
[Main Mission: Dominator of the Land of Fire, Stage Two, has been completed!]
[Quest Evaluation: Perfect, with lightning speed, in the spotlight of all, cleared internal and external enemies, established the Daimyo's supreme authority, and deterred petty schemers from all directions.]
[Quest rewards are being distributed...]
[Congratulations to the Host. You have received the reward: Economic Policy Sandbox!]

The screen refreshed, and a new mission prompt appeared.

[Ding!]
[Current Mission: Might of Lightning, Stage Three!]
[Mission Description: The Land of Lightning has yet to sign a peace treaty with the Land of Fire, and the Hidden Cloud grows restless. As supreme ruler of the Land of Fire, you must make the northern power understand who holds the balance of power, teach the Land of Lightning a lesson it cannot ignore and force it to sign the treaty.]
[Mission Reward: National Luck +1000 points.]

Immediately after, another prompt surfaced.

[Ding!]
[Detected that the Host's foundation is established, but the legacy is unstable. Triggering a side mission.]
[Side Mission: Eternal Foundation—Expand the Lineage, Strengthen the Fire's Future]
[Mission Description: The stability of a nation rests on its foundation. As the founder of a new era, only a lasting bloodline can secure the throne and prevent future unrest. Expand your household, raise heirs, and strengthen the roots of the Land of Fire, build the legacy that will endure for generations.]
[Mission Reward: For each excellent bloodline born, the Host will receive random rewards such as extended lifespan and enhanced physique, and unlock the (Imperial Education) template.]

The previous mission was quite normal.

Hegemony, after all.

The System was the Daimyo System.

Such a mission was expected.

The latter mission, however, was less conventional.

But bloodline legacy did remind him that an empire of one person is ultimately lonely and fragile.

To establish a truly enduring dynasty, a rock-solid foundation was needed.

This mission came at the right time.

His gaze then fell on the newly acquired reward, the (Economic Policy Sandbox).

With a thought, the screen before his eyes transformed.

A three-dimensional sandbox model floated into view.

Mountains and rivers.

Cities and villages.

The entire geography of the ninja world was displayed upon it.

He could even see faint glows representing population flows between cities.

This was not just a model, but a living microcosm.

[Function Description:]
[1. Macro Simulation: The Host can test any economic policy, such as tax rate adjustments, infrastructure investment, and trade agreements, on the sandbox. The System will use existing data to simulate chain reactions, economic growth or recession curves, and changes in social stability over the next 3 years.]
[2. Precise Strike: Target specific countries, families, trade guilds, or individuals, and simulate operations such as economic blockade, asset sniping, and supply chain disruption.]
[3. Opportunity Insight: The System will analyze economic data of various countries in real time, automatically identifying high-return investment opportunities, potential trade partners, or exploitable economic loopholes.]

Looking at these descriptions, Arashi's breathing paused.

If [Talent Scan] allowed him to control people's hearts, then this [Economic Policy Sandbox] was his sharp sword for conquering the ninja world.

Setting aside the god-tier battles that marked the end of the Hokage era, every Great Ninja War before it was, at its core, a contest of wealth, resources, and national strength.

With this sandbox, he possessed a god's-eye view.

He could cripple a nation economically before a war even began.

Compared to the long-term plan of expanding the lineage, which required time, striking at the defiant Land of Lightning mattered more now.

Might of Lightning. Perfect. He would use this new tool to weigh the Land of Lightning.

To see how hard their bones were.

Arashi's finger traced the sandbox.

He pointed to the northeastern corner of the map, at the nation ringed by mountains and thunderclouds.

"Activate the Economic Policy Sandbox. Simulate a comprehensive economic blockade against the Land of Lightning, and deduce all possible countermeasures."

[Ding!]
[Command confirmed. Initiating game-theory deduction mode. Loading Land of Lightning high-level decision-making model, core: Fourth Raikage, A...]
[Deduction begins.]

Buzz.

Above the sandbox, red lines representing the Land of Fire spread, weaving into a vast net that tightly enveloped the Land of Lightning.

Several blue arrows shot out from within the Land of Lightning, striking the red net and creating ripples.

New data streams and text rapidly refreshed to the side.

[Game-Theory Deduction Results:]
[Phase One, 0 to 3 months, Economic Impact and Military Deterrence]
[Our actions: The Land of Fire, allied with the Land of Wind and the Land of Earth, imposes a trade embargo on the Land of Lightning.]
[Enemy response, economic: The Land of Lightning's economy is hit. Pillar industries like iron ore stagnate. Domestic prices may rise by 200 percent within 3 months.]
[Enemy response, military: The Fourth Raikage may gather Hidden Cloud's main forces at the border to conduct high-intensity military deterrence and force negotiations through the threat of war.]

[Phase Two, 4 to 6 months, Internal Unrest and External Harassment]
[Our actions: Maintain the blockade and dump goods via the black market to worsen inflation inside the Land of Lightning.]
[Enemy response, economic: Large-scale unemployment erupts and social conflict intensifies. Hidden Cloud may dispatch elite squads to attack the Land of Fire's trade routes to neutral small countries through looting and sabotage, attempting to damage the Land of Fire's commercial credibility.]
[Enemy response, stability: The Fourth Raikage uses iron-fisted methods to suppress nobles advocating peace, further stimulating war potential under centralized control in the short term.]

[Phase Three, 7 to 9 months, Political Division and Diplomatic Breakthrough]
[Our actions: Continue pressure and secretly fund opposition nobles inside the Land of Lightning.]
[Enemy response, political: Peace-favoring nobles may clash fiercely with the war faction, splitting the Land of Lightning's high command.]
[Enemy response, diplomatic: The Land of Lightning may secretly approach the Land of Wind, promising to supply specialized metal ores long-term at 30 percent below market price, attempting to break the Fire-Wind-Earth economic alliance.]

[Phase Four, 10 to 12 months, Full Stalemate and Multi-Party Involvement]
[Our actions: Increase military and financial aid to the opposition in the Land of Lightning and instigate internal rebellion. Simultaneously maintain a high-intensity border confrontation to deplete national power.]
[Enemy response, war: The Fourth Raikage shows overwhelming control, forcibly integrating domestic resources and forming a brutal confrontation with rebel forces. The war enters full stalemate. Hidden Cloud elites and rebellious noble armies clash in multiple regions, rapidly draining national power.]

[Other nations' reactions:]
[Land of Wind: As an ally of the Land of Fire, it likely maintains the blockade and receives significant technical and material assistance, steadily increasing national strength. It is content to see Fire and Lightning confront each other.]
[Land of Earth: Publicly stays neutral and honors the blockade, but may secretly dispatch shinobi disguised as rogues to contact both sides in the Land of Lightning, selling arms for profit and keeping an ambiguous stance.]
[Land of Water: Long isolated, after Kirigakure detects continental tension, it may frequently dispatch reconnaissance units to infiltrate the Land of Fire's coasts, gathering intelligence and waiting for an opportunity.]

[Disclaimer: This deduction is based on the target's predetermined high-level personality and decision-making model. The System is not responsible for deviations caused by sudden changes in personality or unknown variables.]

Arashi noticed the frequent use of the word may in the deduction.

No wonder the System included a disclaimer.

However, this was sufficient.

He did not need the disclaimer.

He would use the deduction as a reference, not adopt it wholesale.

With five nations and countless people involved, the variables were too great.

Looking over the detailed report, Arashi's smile deepened.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 25: My Rules Are Rules!

The day after the grand ceremony, the sky over the Fire Capital was clear.

Yet the bloody pall over the courtiers' hearts had not faded.

At dawn, the civil and military officials had already assembled outside the Daimyo Manor, each one standing in silence.

The heads that had hung on the city gate yesterday, and the prince whose limbs were crippled and dragged away, were burned into everyone's memory.

The heavy palace doors opened, and the officials filed in.

A scent of sandalwood mixed with new lacquer drifted by.

Yet it could not mask the heavy scent of blood in their minds.

The officials took their places according to their new ranks, each bowing their heads, even deliberately slowing their breathing.

"Daimyo-sama has arrived."

The attendant's announcement rang out, and all the courtiers' bodies tensed.

Arashi, dressed in a dark, gold-patterned daily robe, emerged from behind the hall.

He wore no crown, his dark hair casually tied, his steps unhurried, his expression calm.

It was as if yesterday's slaughter had nothing to do with him.

The calmer he appeared, the more awe the officials felt.

"Greetings, Daimyo-sama."

Led by Ito of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, all the officials knelt in unison, foreheads pressed to the tiles, voices in harmony.

"Rise."

Arashi's voice was faint, emotionless.

He walked to the throne and sat, his gaze sweeping over the slightly apprehensive faces below.

"Today is the first Grand Court Assembly. If you have anything to report, speak."

Silence fell over the hall.

No one dared to speak first.

Yesterday's tragedy was vivid in their minds. Who knew which wrong word would send them down Saionji Takashi's path?

Arashi did not urge them.

Time passed, and the oppressive air drew cold sweat from the foreheads of older officials.

Finally, a burly military official stepped forward.

He was the newly promoted commander of the City Guard.

He knelt on one knee, his voice booming.

"Reporting to Daimyo-sama, in accordance with your decree, the City Guard, in coordination with the Anbu, completely purged all rebels and their factions within the city last night."

"The principal offender, Saionji Takashi and his three clans, and the accomplice, Chiba Shu, have all been dealt with per your orders. Order in the city has been restored. Please instruct us further, Daimyo-sama."

Arashi did not lift his eyelids.

"Mm."

The commander understood, bowed, and returned to position with crisp movements.

With the ice broken, the atmosphere eased slightly.

Tanaka Shigeru, Minister of Finance, stepped forward.

He bowed and reported, "Reporting to Daimyo-sama, the Ministry of Revenue urgently reports that autumn grain collection across all regions is proceeding smoothly. Because you abolished exorbitant taxes and levies, the people are enthusiastically paying. It is estimated this year's treasury income will be three tenths higher than previous years."

"Additionally, the Ministry of Works reports that all projects of the Three-Year Revitalization Plan are progressing rapidly. Expansion of the Fire Capital is one-third complete, and planning blueprints for various local towns have also been issued..."

Tanaka reported more than ten items in one breath, all good news.

These policies, once considered troublesome, had unleashed astonishing efficiency under the new Daimyo's iron fist.

After reporting, he lowered his head and waited for approval.

You could have heard a pin drop.

Just when everyone expected only a cold reply as before, Arashi spoke.

"Not bad."

"Keep it up."

Tanaka's anxious expression turned to surprise.

Behind him, ministers involved in the revitalization plan exhaled in relief.

Praise.

Daimyo-sama had actually praised them.

These four short words excited them more than any reward.

It meant that as long as they worked diligently and performed well, they would gain the Daimyo's recognition.

In an instant, all the ministers' gazes shifted.

Fear remained, but fervor to prove themselves ignited.

Arashi took it all in, a slight curve at his lips.

This was the effect he wanted.

As the court atmosphere eased, the gray-haired Minister of Internal Affairs, Ito, stepped forward.

"Your subject Ito has a memorial to present."

"Speak," Arashi said.

"Daimyo-sama, you have struck down foes both within and without with thunderous might, your achievements unmatched through the ages. Now that the new order has been established and good governance has already taken root, this humble minister believes we should follow precedent and proclaim a general amnesty across the land. It would reflect your mercy and bring peace to the people's hearts."

Many ministers nodded.

A general amnesty was customary for a new monarch, a way to win hearts and gain reputation with no downside.

In their view, the killings yesterday were too severe, and it was time to use conciliatory measures.

Arashi chuckled softly, his tone turning cold.

"Mercy?"

"My mercy is for law-abiding, hardworking citizens."

"It is for civilians who lost loved ones and were displaced by war."

"It is not for criminals who steal, rob, and oppress their communities."

He looked at Ito, prostrate on the floor.

"Criminals are criminals. Since they violated the laws of the Land of Fire, they should reflect on their crimes in prison."

"Releasing them to continue harming my people, what benevolence is that?"

Ito trembled, his back soaked with cold sweat.

He had not expected such a direct refusal, backed by an irrefutable reason.

As a veteran of three reigns, Ito spoke up. "But, Daimyo-sama, since ancient times, new rulers have followed this precedent. It is a long-standing custom that marks the dawn of a new era…"

"Customs?"

Arashi interrupted, leaning forward slightly.

"From the moment I took this seat."

"My rules are the rules."

His voice was not loud, but it struck everyone like a hammer.

"Lord Ito."

"Are ancient precedents more important, or are the heads on the city gate more convincing?"

Ito's mind went blank, as if struck by lightning.

Those calm words almost suffocated him.

"This old subject misspoke. I deserve death," he stammered, kowtowing, his aged body shaking. "Please forgive me, Daimyo-sama."

Arashi leaned back into the throne, indifferent. "Withdraw. Do not repeat this."

"Thank you, Daimyo-sama..."

Ito, as if receiving amnesty, trembled as he retreated.

Silence settled again.

Everyone understood.

Those who act are rewarded.

Those who talk too much invite death.

This ruler cared nothing for tradition. His rules were simple, clear, and beyond challenge.

The atmosphere solidified.

A quick-witted minister's eyes flickered, and he stepped out.

"Your subject has a memorial."

"Speak."

Kneeling, he said with a fawning smile, "Daimyo-sama, you have ascended the throne, yet there is no lady to attend to you, and the foundation of the realm remains unsettled. This is not a blessing for the nation."

"This humble servant beseeches you to take a consort and beget an heir, that the hearts of the people may be at ease."

Many immediately agreed.

An heir, tied to the nation's destiny, was paramount.

And if a woman from one's own family were chosen, that family would rise in a single step.

Arashi lightly tapped the armrest.

"There is no rush."

The minister quickly followed up.

"Your wisdom is sound. Marriage can be postponed."

"But you handle myriad affairs and need a confidante."

"This subject believes concubines can be taken first, selecting women of dignified appearance and character from noble and prominent families to enter the palace."

"First, to extend your lineage. Second, to display your grace and authority, and soothe the officials' hearts."

Taking concubines.

Extending the lineage.

Arashi stopped tapping.

He had not given it much thought. Conquering the world was the real business.

But the ministers seemed even more eager than he was.

Very well.

Since it was raised, going along with it would do no harm.

He nodded.

"Mm, there is some truth to that."

"There is no need to limit it to nobles and prominent families. Choose from within the country."

"My manor's steward will handle it."

The minister was overjoyed and answered excitedly, "Daimyo-sama is wise. Your subject obeys."

He knew he had played his move well.

The other ministers had mixed thoughts.

Some regretted not stepping forward first. Others were already calculating which daughter to send into the palace.

An invisible competition had begun.

Arashi took everything in, then stood.

For him, this was only an interlude on the long path of hegemony.

"If there are no other matters, you may withdraw."

He gave no one another chance to speak, turning to walk toward the back of the hall.

"Farewell, Daimyo-sama."

A thunderous response rose behind him.

Only after Arashi's figure vanished did the officials dare to straighten.

Many had backs soaked with cold sweat.

Thus ended the first Grand Court Assembly of the new reign.

(To be continued.)

...

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Chapter Text

Chapter 26: Within Reach

Three days after the coronation, order in the Fire Capital quickly returned.

The heads hanging on the city gates had not yet been removed, and wind-dried bloodstains still spoke of that iron-blooded day.

Yet the streets had already regained their prosperity.

The fear on people's faces was replaced by fervent adoration for the new Daimyo.

In their simple minds, the young master executing rebellious nobles meant he protected them.

That was enough.

The majesty of the Daimyo Manor enveloped every corner of the Land of Fire.

The old order was shattering, and new rules were taking root. The three-day period had arrived.

Namikaze Minato once again stepped into the Daimyo Manor.

This time, he came alone.

He did not wear his Hokage robe, only a Konoha uniform, looking capable and efficient.

On the way to the study, he saw many unfamiliar faces.

The new maids and guards no longer looked at him with the awe they once had.

He also saw several elegantly dressed young women, beautiful and poised.

In groups of three to five, they seemed to be admiring flowers, but their gazes toward the inner courtyard brimmed with undisguised ambition.

With a new king on the throne and an empty harem, this was a heaven-sent chance for any ambitious family.

Minato understood that everything here had changed.

He withdrew his gaze and continued forward.

Inside the study, Arashi leaned by the window, flipping through a commercial report, completely uninterested in the competition outside.

The afternoon sun fell on him, making him look more like a young master at ease.

"You are here."

Hearing footsteps, Arashi did not lift his head and spoke casually.

"Daimyo-sama."

"Sit."

Minato bowed and sat to the side, presenting a scroll.

"This is what you requested. The results of Konoha's internal affairs, and the preliminary plan for the Genius Cultivation Special Fund."

Arashi gestured for him to place it on the desk, his tone light. "Has everything been handled cleanly?"

"Yes." Minato's reply was a bit strained. "All Root members involved in the rebellion have been purged, and the remaining personnel have been disbanded, awaiting further review."

"Mm."

Arashi finally set down the report and sat up straight.

He did not look at the Root report, as if it were a minor matter.

His gaze fell on the plan. "Tell me your thoughts."

"Yes."

Minato steadied himself and elaborated.

The plan was comprehensive and fair.

Funds were divided into three parts, subsidizing outstanding Ninja Academy graduates, rewarding young Chūnin who performed exceptionally in missions, and funding research for new ninjutsu.

It focused on the village's long-term development, aiming to raise Konoha's new generation, without any personal aims.

He spoke in detail, earnestly.

Arashi listened quietly, expression calm.

Only when Minato finished did he pick up the plan, flip a few pages, and let out a soft chuckle.

"Minato, your plan is very good, and very well thought out."

Minato felt a slight relief.

But Arashi's next words tightened his chest.

"But it is still too conservative, and too dispersed."

Arashi placed the scroll on the table. His movements were gentle, yet they denied its value.

"What I want is not to spread benefits evenly."

He looked at Minato, patiently guiding him.

"Think about it. The Land of Fire's resources are limited."

"If nutrients are given equally to everyone, the result is universal mediocrity."

"The correct approach is to concentrate resources, letting the most promising few grow as quickly as possible."

"When they are strong enough to create a safe haven, only then can the weaker ones gain a stable environment to grow."

"The strong lead the strong."

"Only by first allowing a portion to become true powerhouses can they protect more people."

"This is the best way to make the Land of Fire prosper quickly."

These words stunned Minato.

He instinctively felt something was off.

But the argument that the strong protect the weak sounded reasonable, and he could not refute it.

"Therefore," Arashi concluded, "this investment should be more strategic. We must pour the best soil onto the top-tier seeds."

He lifted a finger, tapping the air.

"Yuhi Kurenai, her talent in genjutsu is once in a century."

"Might Guy, a pure taijutsu fanatic. With enough support, who can predict his limits."

"And Shiranui Genma, Ebisu... these people are treasures of our Land of Fire."

Finally, his finger paused.

"Oh, and the Third's son, Sarutobi Asuma."

Hearing the name, Minato's heart skipped a beat.

Asuma was in a rebellious phase and at odds with the Third, yet the Daimyo took notice?

"This young man is interesting." Arashi's smile held appreciation.

"He yearns to protect, yet is confused by the existing order. Such an unpolished gem is most worth carving."

"We should guide him, make him understand that what he should truly protect is the entire Land of Fire."

A chill rose along Minato's spine.

He finally caught that unease.

Every word from the Daimyo stood on the moral high ground, caring for the younger generation.

But together, they reached straight for Konoha's next generation.

"Daimyo-sama."

Minato could not help speaking, urgency in his tone. "Asuma and the others are still young, their minds are not settled."

"The ninja path requires tempering of will."

"Giving them too much too early, I fear it will..."

"Will what?"

Arashi interrupted gently. "Make their path smoother? Let them serve earlier?"

"Minato, you are a genius, but sometimes your ideas are too idealistic, just like Sarutobi's."

"Willpower matters. But can a hungry man's will block an enemy's kunai?"

"How long can a ninja's will last if he cannot provide for his family?"

"Times have changed."

"What I want to cultivate are the nation's sharpest blades, the strongest fighting force of our Land of Fire."

"They must have unwavering will, and the power worthy of that will, and absolute loyalty to the nation."

Minato's lips moved, but he was speechless.

Every word was impeccable.

"Of course, I am not forcing you." Arashi seemed to see his struggle, and his tone shifted.

"You can treat this plan as a reserve for another scheme."

"The Twelve Guardian Ninja, you know that title, do you not?"

Minato certainly knew.

They were the strongest guards directly under the Daimyo, the highest honor a ninja of the Land of Fire could attain.

He instinctively replied, "But Daimyo-sama, do your Anbu not already handle your safety?"

That mysterious, powerful unit from the ceremony was unforgettable.

"Good question, Minato."

Arashi was not displeased. He looked at him with appreciation. "This shows you are thinking."

"Anbu exist to protect the Land of Fire as a whole, to be the blade over the enemy's head, the scalpel for internal cancers. They should not be confined to my side as mere bodyguards."

Arashi's voice carried force.

"I am choosing new Twelve Guardian Ninja precisely to free the Anbu from personal duty."

"So they can execute more important missions. Do you understand?"

"This is not for me alone. It optimizes the top-tier fighting power of our entire Land of Fire."

Minato fell completely silent.

The logic was flawless.

He framed a private guard as serving the nation's defense.

He felt caught in a net woven of righteousness, interests, and honor.

He could not see its full shape, but he felt it tightening.

Refuse?

How?

Refuse funding that would ease the village's finances?

Refuse an opportunity for Konoha geniuses to rise at once?

If he refused, even without the Daimyo's word, the village's families and shinobi would tear him apart.

"...I understand."

After a long silence, he finally spoke, voice hoarse and dry.

"I will revise the plan according to your wishes."

"Very good." Arashi nodded in satisfaction and settled back into his lounge chair. "I hope to see a new plan that reflects the Land of Fire's strategic vision."

"Go."

"...Yes."

Minato bowed again, turned, and left.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 27: Heavy Punches

After leaving the Daimyo Manor, Minato used the Flying Thunder God Technique and quickly returned to Konoha.

He did not go to the Hokage Building, but subconsciously walked toward Hiruzen's residence.

Since resigning, Hiruzen had stayed in his family compound and had not come out again.

The courtyard was very quiet.

Pushing open the door, a strong smell of tobacco hit him.

Hiruzen sat alone on the veranda.

He was cross-legged, with pieces scattered on the shogi board in front of him, untouched for a long time.

Hearing footsteps, he raised his eyelids. "Ah, Minato."

Minato sat down before him, feeling that the Third Hokage seemed even older.

He composed himself and said in a low voice, "Daimyo-sama rejected the plan."

Hiruzen was not surprised and took a puff from his pipe.

Smoke obscured his aged face.

He exhaled a smoke ring and spoke calmly. "What else did the Daimyo say?"

Minato recounted Arashi's proposal to concentrate resources so the strong would lead the strong to come.

Finally, he said, "The Daimyo also wants to restart the selection of the Twelve Guardian Ninja and personally oversee the candidates."

The room fell into a long silence.

Only the tapping of the pipe could be heard.

"Heh..."

After a long while, Hiruzen let out a soft chuckle. "Minato, do you not understand yet?"

He looked at Minato, his expression disheartened.

"From the moment Danzō died by my hand, the era belonging to the Hokage was already over."

"The Daimyo is not discussing with you."

"He is informing you."

Minato's expression grew solemn. "Third Hokage..."

Hiruzen waved a hand, weary. "I am just an old man waiting to die."

The pipe tapped the ashtray with a crisp sound.

"Remember, Minato," his voice lowered, "unless the Daimyo harms Konoha."

"Otherwise, do not try to second-guess him, and certainly do not resist him."

"You need only think about how to secure the greatest benefits for the village under the Daimyo's rules."

Minato nodded, puzzled. "But... is this plan not harming Konoha?"

"No. The Daimyo needs a strong Konoha, he will not harm it."

Hiruzen's tone was firm. "He is merely consolidating power. This blade called Konoha, the Daimyo must hold it in his hand."

He paused, a glimmer of light flashing in his cloudy eyes.

"Soon, among the Daimyo's consorts, there will surely be someone from Konoha. Uchiha, or Hyuga, or others."

"This is also part of his consolidation of power. When all obstacles disappear, Konoha will instead receive the Daimyo's full support."

Minato was bewildered. "Full support?"

"Yes." Hiruzen nodded emphatically, his voice very low. "Judging by the Daimyo's decisive actions, the Land of Fire is too small. He wants more."

"You mean, the Daimyo..." Minato's heart churned.

"Shh, quiet," Hiruzen cut him off at once. "Keep the rest of your words to yourself."

"But..."

"Say no more, Minato. Trust this old man's judgment. Do as I say."

With that, Hiruzen closed his eyes and said nothing more.

Looking at the Third Hokage, bereft of fighting spirit, Minato felt a deep loneliness and powerlessness.

He knew Hiruzen's heart had died with Danzō.

Leaving the Sarutobi compound, Minato stood in sunlight without warmth.

Taking a deep breath, the confusion in his eyes gave way to determination.

He summoned the Jōnin, the clan heads, and the two advisor elders for an emergency meeting at the Hokage Building.

Utatane Koharu and Homura Mitokado arrived first.

Then the Uchiha, Hyuga, Ino–Shika–Chō, Inuzuka, Aburame, and other clans arrived.

The atmosphere in the conference room was oppressive.

Seeing everyone present, Minato spoke in a deep voice. "I have gathered you to convey an important matter concerning Konoha's future."

He did not state the proposal outright, but first announced that the Daimyo had rejected the village's plan.

"The Daimyo's intention is to concentrate resources so the strong become stronger."

Bang.

As soon as he finished, Utatane Koharu slammed her hand on the table.

"Absurd."

Her voice was sharp. "Special funding for genius cultivation, directly funded by the Daimyo Manor. This is a direct reach into our Konoha and the clans."

Homura Mitokado adjusted his glasses, gaze cold. "Exactly. This severely damages the village's autonomy. Will the geniuses chosen by him listen to the Hokage or the Daimyo in the future. This is digging at Konoha's roots."

The elders' strong reaction represented Konoha's conservative faction.

Uchiha Fugaku's expression was calm. He sat upright, seemingly in thought, a sharp glint in his eyes.

After a moment, he spoke, voice even.

"I think the elders are overthinking."

"The Daimyo's willingness to fund talent cultivation is an affirmation of Konoha."

"We should consider how to use this fund to cultivate more excellent shinobi, not adopt a hostile stance from the start."

Utatane Koharu was momentarily speechless. She could sense Fugaku's subtext.

Hyuga Hiashi, however, frowned deeply, his face even more serious than when he arrived.

"I agree with the elders' concerns."

"Direct support for individuals from the Daimyo Manor does not align with the rules."

"If a genius from the branch family is selected, my Hyuga will surely be impacted."

For a time, everyone argued their positions.

"Enough." Minato pondered, then raised his hand to stop them.

His gaze fell on Nara Shikaku.

The Jōnin Commander sat quietly, tapping his cheek lightly with a finger.

"Shikaku, what do you think?" Minato asked.

Everyone looked over.

Nara Shikaku calmly scanned the room and said, "We have no choice."

His voice was not loud, but it silenced the room.

"This proposal, we cannot refuse."

"This money is both an opportunity and a seed that will tear Konoha apart."

"If we accept, new conflicts will inevitably arise over quotas, and the authority of both clans and the Hokage will be challenged."

"If we refuse, we will be the sinners who stifle the village's geniuses and will lose the hearts of the young."

He looked around and concluded, "And we can only accept, or we isolate ourselves from the Land of Fire."

Utatane Koharu and Homura Mitokado fell silent, faces ashen.

Having been in power for decades, they were accustomed to holding authority.

The thought of bowing to the Daimyo made their faces even uglier.

When Minato put forward the second proposal, the room grew noisy again.

"Twelve Guardian Ninja."

This time there was no table slapping, no angry shouts.

The two advisor elders almost deflated at once.

A chill rose in their hearts.

They exchanged glances, seeing deep powerlessness on each other's pale faces.

The first proposal was about money, about division.

The second was about power, about absorption.

One pulling, one striking. One internal, one external.

It was not a conspiracy. It was an open display of force.

It was the force of crushing a military village with the resources of the entire Land of Fire.

Homura's throat was dry, his voice hoarse.

"The Daimyo is forming an elite unit, completely loyal to him."

"A unit strong enough to counterbalance Konoha."

Utatane Koharu's hands trembled uncontrollably.

She looked at Minato, her words filled with sorrow.

"Hiruzen is gone, Danzō is dead. Minato, Konoha's autonomy is being stripped away piece by piece."

"What else can we do?"

Uchiha Fugaku slowly rose.

His expression was solemn, without agitation, and he spoke declaratively.

"Elders, the Twelve Guardian Ninja have historically been the Daimyo's direct guards. This is tradition."

"Now the Daimyo is reactivating them to demonstrate the Land of Fire's prestige."

"If we refuse, are we not telling other countries the Land of Fire is divided."

He paused, then looked at Minato. "Since it is the Daimyo's will, for the Land of Fire's prosperity, my Uchiha bear an undeniable responsibility."

The words were grand.

He submitted to the Daimyo while placing himself on the moral high ground of serving country and village.

Koharu and Homura were speechless.

The meeting ended in suffocating silence.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 28: Uchiha’s Stairs, Hyuga’s Abyss

Uchiha Fugaku walked in front, his face expressionless, but a fire burned in his heart.

Money, power, and one more thing.

The Daimyo Manor was recruiting a new concubine.

If he could send an Uchiha woman to bear a child with the Sharingan, Fugaku suddenly realized the Hokage position he had clung to in the past had become insignificant.

Hyuga Hiashi followed not far behind, his face gloomy.

He also thought of the Daimyo taking a concubine.

This was a more difficult problem for the Hyuga than the Twelve Guardian Ninja. The Byakugan could not be leaked.

But to refuse the Daimyo was to openly defy him.

Hiashi felt he was at a dead end no matter which way he turned.

Nara Shikaku leisurely followed behind.

He glanced at Fugaku's back, then at Hiashi.

Genius cultivation, the Twelve Guardian Ninja, these were all out in the open.

What was truly deadly was what could not be seen.

For example, taking a concubine.

The Uchiha saw a shortcut.

The Hyuga saw an abyss.

"Things are about to change."

Shikaku muttered to himself in a low voice.

Without turning his head, he gently waved to the people behind him.

"Inoichi, Choza, come to my house for a drink."

"Okay."

Yamanaka Inoichi and Akimichi Choza responded in deep voices without hesitation.

Three figures detached from the crowd, tacitly walking toward the Nara compound.

In the Nara courtyard, deer grazed on green grass in the backyard, unaware of the turmoil outside.

On the stone table, warmed sake emitted a rich aroma.

Choza grabbed a cup and downed it in one gulp, placing it heavily on the table with a thud.

His voice was hoarse, his tone stifled.

"What kind of situation is this. The Daimyo wants to reach into our minds."

"Not just our minds." Inoichi gently swirled his cup, his eyes sharp. "I can feel the village's morale already wavering."

Shikaku leaned against the veranda pillar, watching the deer, and spoke slowly.

"Because this is not a conspiracy, it is an open scheme."

"Money, giving civilian shinobi without background a chance to rise, they will only be grateful to the Daimyo."

"Power, the glory of the Twelve Guardian Ninja, can drive any clan that wants to prove itself mad."

"Look at Fugaku just now. He could not wait to package and offer the entire Uchiha."

Choza and Inoichi fell silent.

"Then, what about taking a concubine."

Inoichi's voice was a bit dry.

A child with the Daimyo's bloodline would immediately elevate that clan above the Hokage.

"This is the cruelest part."

Shikaku sighed, helpless. "The Uchiha see a ladder to heaven, the Hyuga see an abyss. And us..."

"We cannot do anything."

Choza said, "What if we refuse."

"Refuse. With what. Do we dare refuse."

"Even if our three clans are tied together, can we stop the fanaticism of all Konoha. If it goes wrong, we will be isolated."

Choza's fists clenched, joints cracking. "So we just watch."

"What else." Shikaku shot back. "Choza, go to the Hokage Building now and tell Minato our Ino–Shika–Chō clans firmly oppose the Daimyo's decision."

"Then tomorrow, the Uchiha will receive double cultivation funds, and our three clans' children might even have their Academy subsidies cut."

"This is an open scheme. The Daimyo puts fragrant bait before everyone. If you do not eat it, you starve."

"If you eat it, you listen to him."

A long silence fell over the courtyard.

Finally, Shikaku broke it.

"Do not participate, do not oppose, do not take a stance."

"We just need to watch."

At the same time.

Uchiha territory, Naka Shrine.

Fugaku sat in the main seat, with dozens of clan members below. The atmosphere was solemn.

"The situation is as it is."

His voice was steady, though excitement lurked beneath.

"The Daimyo is willing to bypass the Hokage and directly support the geniuses of our great clans. This is an unprecedented opportunity."

An old man with white hair and beard frowned. "Clan Head, the Daimyo's move clearly aims to divide Konoha."

"Divide."

Fugaku sneered. "Elder, when has Konoha ever been united. When Danzō suppressed us, why did he not think of unity."

"Now there is a chance for our Uchiha to bypass the Hokage and communicate directly with the Land of Fire's highest authority. Why should we refuse."

His gaze swept the room, noticing hesitation.

He suddenly stood, arms spread, his voice full of temptation.

"Money. Power. All can make us stronger. But these are not the most important."

"The most important is, the Daimyo is taking a concubine."

"Clan members, think about it."

He emphasized each word, striking their hearts. "If an Uchiha woman can bear a child with the Sharingan for the Daimyo."

"What would that mean."

The air in the shrine ignited.

An elder crushed his teacup in excitement.

Another elder breathed heavily, staring at Fugaku.

Hokage.

Compared to a future monarch with the Daimyo's and Uchiha's blood, what was a village's Kage.

"By then, our Uchiha will surely become the true number one clan in the Land of Fire."

"I have decided."

Fugaku's voice echoed through the shrine. "Immediately select three outstanding women of the clan, shinobi or not, as long as they are beautiful, virtuous, and firm of mind. Send them to the Daimyo Manor as candidates."

"This matter is decided by me. No further discussion."

Hyuga territory.

The atmosphere was the exact opposite of the Uchiha.

Hiashi's face was ashen as he listened to several main family elders argue heatedly.

"Absolutely no daughter of the main family can go."

"The purity of the Byakugan is the foundation of the Hyuga. It must never be allowed to leak."

"But if we refuse, it is open defiance of the Daimyo."

"Then choose one from the branch family and send her."

"No." Hiashi slammed the table, his voice cold. "The branch family also has Hyuga blood. The Caged Bird cannot lock down the legacy of the bloodline. Once a child is born, the Hyuga will have no more secrets."

The secret room fell silent.

All eyes turned to Hiashi, the young clan head bearing immense pressure.

On one side was the clan's iron rule of a thousand years. On the other was the Daimyo's irresistible authority.

Either choice could lead to ruin.

He closed his eyes, veins rising on his forehead, the weight of the entire clan crushing him.

"Stall..."

After a long time, he squeezed out a word.

"As long as we can stall, we will..."

He opened his eyes. Only despair remained.

Hokage Building.

Minato stood by the window, overlooking Konoha.

The village seemed the same, people coming and going, peaceful.

But beneath the calm, undercurrents surged.

Utatane Koharu and Homura Mitokado sat behind him, faces pale, as if aging ten years in an instant.

"The Uchiha have already begun selecting women to send to the Daimyo Manor." Koharu's voice was dry.

"Smaller clans like Inuzuka and Aburame have also sent people to inquire about the allocation of genius cultivation funds and the selection criteria for the Guardian Ninja." Homura added, his tone weary.

"And the civilian shinobi..."

Koharu closed her eyes, unable to continue.

Without her saying it, Minato knew.

For shinobi without background who had struggled up, the Daimyo's decision was a godsend.

Their support for the Daimyo even surpassed their respect for the Hokage.

In just a few days.

Konoha, once united by the Will of Fire, had been clearly split in two.

One half were the beneficiaries and those eager to benefit, fanatically supporting the Daimyo.

The other half were them, remnants of the old era clinging to the village's autonomy.

"We lost."

Homura's voice was full of powerlessness.

Minato did not turn around, his golden hair dim in the setting sun.

His mind raced, dissecting every move of the Daimyo.

First, use money to buy the lower ranks, dividing civilians and clans.

Second, use power to tempt the upper ranks, worsening conflict between great clans and the Hokage.

Third, use intermarriage to bind the ninja clans, making them his blades.

Each step was open and aboveboard, each step targeted the weakest desires of the human heart.

Impeccable.

He frantically deduced all countermeasures, but every path led to the same end, civil war, division, Konoha's collapse.

Unless he bowed to the Daimyo.

He recalled the Third Hokage's words.

Do not speculate, do not resist.

Only consider how to gain the greatest benefit for the village under the Daimyo's rules.

But would such a Konoha still be Konoha.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 29: Black Zetsu’s Evil Plan

A dark cave.

This was the Akatsuki's temporary base.

White Zetsu, Tobi, emerged from a pile of dirt overhead.

He gesticulated wildly, shouting in an exaggerated tone.

"Obito! Obito! Great news!"

The man he called Obito wore a tiger-striped mask.

Uchiha Obito sat silently on a rock, seemingly meditating with his eyes closed.

The swirling Tobi circled around him.

"It's incredible. The new Daimyo of the Land of Fire has clashed with your Konoha's Hokage."

"I heard that Root leader, Danzō, tried to cause trouble at the inauguration ceremony, but the Third Hokage personally ripped out his heart. Pfft, blood splattered everywhere, it was so exciting."

"I wonder if a person whose heart is ripped out still poops, if..."

"What happened to Konoha?" Obito interrupted Tobi's rambling, his voice icy.

"Oh, oh, the entire Konoha is in chaos now." Tobi immediately got back on topic, gloating. "The Hokage's orders aren't being followed outside the Hokage Building anymore."

"Also, also, the Uchiha are scrambling to send beauties to the Daimyo, the Hyuga's faces are pale with worry, and even the Ino–Shika–Chō are starting to waver."

Listening to Tobi, the single eye beneath Obito's mask instantly filled with crimson.

"A chance. This is a chance." Obito suddenly stood up, his voice hoarse and frantic. "I will go destroy that hypocritical village right now."

"Calm down, Obito."

Black Zetsu emerged from the ground at his feet, stopping him. "You are too impulsive."

The Sharingan in Obito's eye spun wildly, slowly converging into a Mangekyō. His tone was grim. "Konoha's internal strife, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Do you dare stop me?"

"A chance?"

Black Zetsu let out a mocking laugh. "You underestimate Konoha too much."

"Hiruzen may be old, but his strength remains."

"More importantly, Minato..."

"That man's Flying Thunder God Technique has already surpassed the Second Hokage."

"As long as he is in Konoha, it is impossible for you to come and go as you please."

Seeing Obito's eagerness for revenge and undiminished killing intent, Black Zetsu's speech quickened.

"And Uzumaki Kushina."

"Do not forget, she is not only the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki, but she is also an Uzumaki with powerful sealing techniques."

"If you go now, it is meaningless except to die."

At the words to die, Obito did not grow angry, but laughed instead, his laughter filled with madness.

He murmured, "Die? Dying is good. If I die... I can go see Rin."

Black Zetsu was silent for a moment, realizing that simple threats had no effect on him.

"Have you forgotten our plan?" Black Zetsu grew anxious.

"The Eye of the Moon Plan? I have not forgotten." Obito remained stubborn. "It does not matter without me, you can find someone else."

Black Zetsu's voice suddenly grew sharp. "What about your revenge for Rin? Are you going to die miserably with empty hands and go see her? Tell her you could not do anything for her?"

"Rin's death, the fault of this world, is that just going to be forgotten?"

The name Rin, like a dagger, pierced deep into Obito's heart.

He trembled all over, and the killing intent around him grew heavier.

Watching Obito ignite with hatred again, Black Zetsu knew the time was right.

His tone shifted, cold and seductive.

"Forcing your way in is the lowest form of revenge."

"I have a better plan, one that will make Minato taste the same despair as you."

Obito suddenly turned his head, his crimson Sharingan staring at Black Zetsu.

Black Zetsu spoke unhurriedly. "Minato and Uzumaki Kushina are husband and wife, right?"

"They will have a child sooner or later."

"And when a jinchūriki gives birth, the sealing formula within her body weakens to its extreme."

"At that time, the Nine-Tails' seal will be at its weakest."

The air in the cave seemed to freeze.

Obito's breathing grew heavy.

He understood Black Zetsu's intention.

"At that time..."

Black Zetsu's voice was like a devil's, dripping malice. "We will extract the Nine-Tails from Uzumaki Kushina's body, then let that tailed beast of hatred and destruction roar freely in Konoha, in front of his wife, and in front of his newborn child."

"Let him watch everything he wants to protect be crushed to dust on the same day."

"Let him taste the pain of watching his beloved die helplessly."

"This is the most perfect revenge against Konoha and Minato."

Obito's body began trembling uncontrollably with excitement. "And Kakashi..."

Black Zetsu added, "That's right, and Kakashi. They will all experience the same despair as you from losing what is precious, and all of Konoha will be buried with you."

"Hehehehehehe."

Obito let out a low laugh, louder and louder, turning into a maniacal Uchiha laugh.

"Hahahahahahaha."

"Good. Good plan."

"Let's do it."

Beneath the tiger-striped mask, the Mangekyō Sharingan spun wildly.

Obito's last shred of humanity was completely burned away by the flames of revenge.

He looked toward Konoha, full of anticipation.

Evening.

Konoha.

The afterglow of the setting sun dyed the Hokage Rock red.

Minato left the Hokage Building and walked aimlessly through the streets.

The banners of the izakaya fluttered in the evening breeze, the aroma of barbecue drifted from the grill, and the clear laughter of children chasing and playing stayed crisp.

Everything was as usual.

But everything had also changed.

All that liveliness and laughter, all that Konoha spirit, felt out of place to him.

He saw a few civilian Genin who had just graduated, faces filled with excitement, huddled together in heated discussion.

"Did you hear? Daimyo-sama is personally allocating funds to support the geniuses in our village. We will not have to work so hard on missions to save money for ninja tools anymore."

"More than that. My second uncle's cousin said if you get selected as a Twelve Guardian Ninja, you get a huge sum every month, even higher than an A-rank mission reward."

"That is the strongest guard beside the Daimyo. If we are chosen, we civilian shinobi will really make a name for ourselves."

"Really? Then I have to hurry and sign up. I do not want to pick up trash and look for stray cats anymore."

These uncontrollable bursts of joy and longing pricked Minato's heart like needles.

Once, becoming a member of the Hokage's personal guard was every shinobi's glory.

Once, fighting for the village was a natural belief.

Now, the Daimyo had merely lifted a finger.

The village's hearts no longer belonged to the Hokage.

Minato clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms.

The sting, however, was not as great as the bitterness in his heart.

He abruptly turned, no longer walking home.

He was going to find the Third Hokage.

He was going to ask what all of this meant, and what should be done.

But then, he suddenly stopped.

In his line of sight, the ramen shop on the corner glowed with warm light.

A red-haired woman with a ponytail sat inside.

It was Kushina.

She was happily chatting with Teuchi, a steaming bowl of ramen before her.

Feeling watched, Kushina turned her head, and her beautiful eyes lit up.

"Minato. Here. Here."

She waved vigorously, a bright, happy smile on her face.

That smile cut through the bustling street and lit his heart, which was almost swallowed by gloom.

In an instant, all the frustration, anger, and confusion vanished.

Looking at his wife's smiling face, Minato's clenched fists slowly relaxed.

It turned out.

What he had to protect had always been here.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 30: Kushina's Smile

Minato walked across the street, pushed aside the curtain, and entered the ramen shop.

Under the dim yellow light, her red hair was especially striking.

He slowed his steps, looking at his wife, a smile unconsciously curving his lips.

"Is this all you are eating?"

Kushina was slurping noodles, her mouth still stained with green onions and soup.

"Minato."

"Come sit. Teuchi's ramen is the best."

Her voice was full of energy, and as she ate her noodles, she called out to Minato.

"I just love it. It is the best in the whole world." Kushina replied righteously, holding up her bowl like a treasure.

Teuchi, behind the counter, poked his head out with a proud look.

"Lord Fourth, young Miss Kushina is a true connoisseur. Her tongue does not lie."

"My ramen is definitely the most delicious in Konoha... no, in the entire Land of Fire."

Minato chuckled. The vexation that had weighed on his heart for days was diluted by the lively, down-to-earth atmosphere.

He took off his Hokage robe, carefully folded it, and set it aside, then sat next to Kushina.

"Then I will have a bowl too, the same as hers, Uncle."

"Alright. Please wait a moment."

Soon, a steaming bowl of ramen was served, creamy white broth and a fragrant aroma rising.

Minato stirred his noodles, but his mind wandered.

"What is wrong?" Kushina picked up a piece of chashu and, without asking, placed it in his bowl. "Try this. Uncle stewed it especially tender today, it melts in your mouth."

He took a bite. It was indeed delicious, but his thoughts drifted.

He quietly watched Kushina.

Watching her narrow her eyes, take a bite of noodles, then a sip of soup, eating with relish...

That pure joy made guilt rise in his heart.

After finishing their ramen, the two walked side by side on their way home.

It was late, and the streets were empty.

The moonlight spilled down, casting their shadows long.

Kushina hummed an off-key tune, her steps light, but after a few steps she noticed the person beside her was unusually silent.

Minato walked beside her, the smile on his face gone at some point, worry clouding his features.

Kushina stopped and looked up at him.

"Minato."

"Hm?"

"You have something on your mind, do you not?"

Kushina's eyes sparkled in the moonlight.

She reached out and gently smoothed Minato's furrowed brow.

"I have heard about what has been happening in the village recently."

"The Daimyo's matter must be very difficult for you, right?"

Minato fell silent.

He did not want to bring these troubles to Kushina.

He wanted her to always be as carefree and happy as she had been eating ramen just now.

"It is nothing, just some village matters..."

"Minato Namikaze."

Kushina interrupted him, her tone more serious than ever.

"We are husband and wife, are we not?"

"Your troubles are my troubles. I will not allow you to bear them alone, understand?"

Looking at her persistent gaze, the softest part of Minato's heart was touched, and he finally sighed helplessly.

"Alright."

He explained in detail the two decisions from the Daimyo Manor and the severe internal division they had caused in the village.

From the Genius Cultivation Program to the selection of the Guardian Ninja Twelve.

From the fervor of the Uchiha to the despair of the two advisor elders.

His voice grew lower, filled with powerlessness.

"Konoha is being torn apart. The Will of Fire I was proud of is being corrupted by money and power."

"I do not know what to do to stop this."

"As Hokage, I feel like a puppet, hands and feet tied, only able to watch the village slide into an unknown abyss."

After speaking, he irritably ran his hands through his hair, pain on his face.

For days, this problem had tormented him, leaving him restless.

Kushina listened quietly, without interrupting.

Only after he finished did she ask seriously, "Minato, what exactly are we protecting Konoha for?"

Minato was startled.

"Of course, to protect everyone in the village, to guard our shared home."

"Then," Kushina asked again, "now, is the life of most people in the village getting better or worse?"

This question left Minato speechless.

He remembered the excited, flushed faces of those civilian shinobi when they received their first extra subsidy.

He remembered the joy of those small families spreading the news, celebrating their children having a better future.

"But the village's autonomy... the Hokage's authority is being weakened."

Kushina did not let him evade, pressing on. "Are those ninja clans wrong?"

"They want their family stronger, they want their children to have a better future. Is that wrong?"

Minato shook his head with difficulty.

"What about those civilian shinobi?"

"Are they wrong too? They do not want to spend their whole lives doing D-rank missions. They want to become stronger, make a name for themselves, earn more, and give their families a good life. Is that wrong too?"

Minato shook his head again.

He could not refute it.

Because it was not wrong at all.

"I can understand." He closed his eyes in pain. "But they have all forgotten that everyone used to fight for Konoha as a collective. Was the selfless dedication of the Will of Fire wrong?"

"That is because there were no other options before."

Kushina's voice suddenly rose, clear in the quiet night.

"Before, all resources were controlled by the Hokage and a few large clans, so of course they could only fight for the village."

"Because if they did not, they would get nothing. That is not dedication, that is having no choice."

"Now, the Daimyo has given them another choice, one that lets them live better through their own efforts."

"Everyone is striving for a better place. Why should we stop them?"

Minato's mind was in chaos.

Every word from Kushina struck hard at the beliefs he had held since childhood.

The things he had upheld, the Hokage's responsibility and Konoha's traditions, were crumbling inch by inch.

Seeing the lingering confusion and pain on her husband's face, Kushina's heart ached. She stretched out her arms and gently embraced him.

Her cheek rested against his broad, warm chest. Her voice became incredibly gentle, yet full of strength.

"Minato."

"Do not forget."

"You were once a civilian shinobi too."

Boom.

This sentence, like a thunderclap, exploded in Minato's mind.

He froze, his body trembling violently.

Yes.

He had forgotten.

How could he have forgotten?

He had forgotten that he too was once the most ordinary civilian, desperately taking missions to save money for a C-rank ninjutsu scroll, eating only the cheapest military rations for a month.

He had also hidden in the corner of the training ground, enviously watching shinobi from great clans.

They possessed innate bloodline limits, seemingly endless resources, and could effortlessly learn the ninjutsu he yearned for but could not attain.

He had reached where he was thanks to the Third Hokage's recognition, Jiraiya-sensei's guidance, and his own exceptional talent and hundredfold effort.

But in the village, how many could have his luck and talent?

More people struggled at the bottom, never touching the edge of their dreams in their lifetime.

The Daimyo's appearance gave them a chance.

A chance he too had once yearned for.

He had always stood from the Hokage's perspective, high above, thinking about maintaining the village's balance and traditions.

Yet he had forgotten that, for the shinobi struggling at the bottom, this so-called balance was the greatest injustice.

Was the Konoha he wanted to protect truly the Konoha everyone desired?

Under the clear moonlight, Minato's gaze shifted from confusion, to struggle, and finally, to clarity and determination.

He slowly lowered his head and held his wife tightly.

Kushina's smile returned, still gentle.

"Kushina."

"Thank you."

His voice was gentle and firm, no longer confused.

"I... know what to do now."

"For a... Konoha that truly belongs to everyone."

(To be continued.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 31: Keep the Music Going

Daimyo Manor, side hall.

Incense burned quietly in the hall, a faint elegant smoke curling upward.

The sound of string and wind instruments echoed softly.

Arashi leaned lazily on a large, soft couch. His dark robe was loose at the collar, revealing his broad chest. His expression was one of contentment.

In the center of the hall, a group of dancers swayed gracefully.

The lead dancer had a slender figure and a narrow waist.

She wore only a thin pink gauze skirt, barely covering what needed to be covered.

Her movements were nimble, and the view beneath her skirt occasionally showed through.

Her snow-white skin gleamed with a soft luster, and her long, straight legs flashed in and out as her skirt swayed.

Each spin brought a faint scent of perfume.

Each backward glance was filled with charm.

Their dance was graceful and alluring, sometimes flowing, sometimes entwined.

Every movement was a silent temptation, every gesture testing the preference of the man seated above.

They were carefully chosen beauties, gifts for the new Daimyo.

In their eyes burned raw desire.

If they could earn even a trace of favor from that man, they could rise in rank and status.

That thought made their dancing more passionate and captivating.

Arashi watched, a satisfied expression on his face, the fire in his gaze growing stronger.

At his lower seat, Aono Saku sat upright and solemn, completely out of place in this atmosphere.

"Saku."

Arashi withdrew his gaze from the dancers, lifted his wine cup, and spoke casually.

"Yes, Daimyo-sama."

Saku immediately bowed respectfully.

Arashi drank the wine in one gulp. "Are your clansmen settling well in the Fire Capital?"

Saku replied, "Thanks to Daimyo-sama's kindness, our people have settled down."

"Just settling down isn't enough," Arashi said, putting down his cup. "The funds I gave you aren't meant to be hoarded. Tell them to open shops, start businesses, and fully integrate into the Fire Capital."

"Send the talented young ones to school to learn new knowledge. Don't just cling to Ninjutsu."

"You've already joined the Anbu, so your clan should be able to stand proudly in the sunlight, not hide forever in the shadows."

"If your children's faces aren't smiling, wouldn't that make me a failure?"

Saku looked up suddenly, shock flashing in his eyes. Then gratitude replaced it. He bowed deeply, his forehead touching the floor.

His voice was hoarse with emotion. "Thank you, Daimyo-sama. The Senju Clan will serve you loyally for generations."

"Get up," Arashi said with a faint smile. "I'm not a heartless person. With me, you'll only live better."

"Thank you, Daimyo-sama!" Saku kowtowed again.

Just then, Saku caught a glimpse of a shadow outside the hall. The person didn't enter, only gave him a subtle hand signal.

Saku immediately said, "Daimyo-sama, there is news from Jin's side. Please allow me to take my leave for a moment."

"Go."

Arashi waved his hand, his attention already back on the dancers.

Saku left the side hall quickly. In a deserted corner, an Anbu operative disguised as a guard knelt on one knee, presenting a small bamboo tube with both hands.

Without a word exchanged, the handover was complete. The Anbu vanished into the courtyard.

When Saku returned to the hall, the music and dance had stopped at some point.

The dancers knelt on the ground, their bodies glistening with fragrant sweat, not daring to lift their heads.

Arashi was staring at the lead dancer with interest, his gaze openly possessive.

"Daimyo-sama." Saku stepped forward quietly and offered the bamboo tube.

Arashi didn't take it, only asked, "From Konoha?"

"Yes."

"Tell me, what interesting news is there?"

Saku opened the tube, quickly read through the secret letter, and reported concisely, "Minato Namikaze has fully carried out your will, implementing the Genius Cultivation Program and the selection of the Twelve Guardian Ninja. The results are even better than expected."

"Oh?"

Hearing that, Arashi finally sat up straight, his eyes regaining their sharpness.

"Let me see."

"Yes."

Saku handed the note over.

The information was far more detailed than what Saku had summarized.

It recorded how Uchiha Fugaku spoke eloquently, how Hyuga Hiashi schemed in secret, and the attitudes of the Ino–Shika–Chō families. Everything was clearly written.

But what caught Arashi's interest most was the final paragraph.

It described the commotion stirred up in Konoha by the matter of taking concubines.

The Uchiha were preparing to select three of their most beautiful women.

Even clans like the Inuzuka and Aburame, usually indifferent to such things, were stirred into action.

Reading this, Arashi was first surprised, then burst out laughing.

He remembered.

At the court assembly that day, one minister had suggested the idea of taking concubines to curry favor.

He hadn't taken it seriously at the time, only thinking it a gesture to please the people, and casually agreed.

Unexpectedly, that seemingly trivial decision, which he had nearly forgotten, became the final spark that shattered Konoha's balance.

No wonder the changes in Konoha were so drastic.

The Genius Cultivation Program had sown division.

The Twelve Guardian Ninja consolidated power.

And those simple words, "taking concubines," struck directly at the lifeblood of every Ninja clan, bloodline and legacy.

It became the strongest catalyst, igniting all the conflicts he had already set in motion.

In this world, the hardest thing to resist is never some earth-shattering scheme.

It is the primal desires and fears that lie deep within the human heart.

This sword called Konoha.

He had thought it would take great effort to seize it from Hiruzen Sarutobi and the other elders.

Now it seemed it wouldn't take long at all.

Arashi tossed the secret letter aside. Saku caught it and destroyed it with a Fire Release technique.

Arashi rose slowly, pacing in the hall, lost in thought.

Then he walked to the lead dancer, crouched down, and lifted her chin, making her look up.

"Tell me, with your beauty, do you think you could enter my harem?"

The dancer, trembling, replied softly, "This concubine dares not speak presumptuously. It is for Daimyo-sama to decide."

"Hahaha."

Arashi burst into laughter. "Gen."

Gen hurried in. "Your subordinate is here."

"Since everyone is so enthusiastic about the matter of concubines, if I don't handle it properly, wouldn't I be letting down their goodwill?"

A faint smile curved Arashi's lips.

"Pass on my order."

"Announce it throughout the entire Land of Fire."

"All citizens of the Land of Fire, whether nobles, ninja, or civilians, if they have an unmarried daughter of good character and appearance, they may participate."

Gen's expression brightened, and he immediately accepted the command. "Yes."

That his lord was willing to take concubines was something that delighted him.

Because it meant that the future heir would soon be born.

Arashi stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze distant.

He didn't care whether the ninja clans would send their daughters.

What he cared about were the noble families of the Fire Capital. This would be a game of division and allegiance.

The internal situation was about to stabilize.

In that case, it was time to address matters concerning the Land of Lightning.

"Also, notify Minister of Finance Tanaka Shigeru to come to my study tomorrow morning."

"Yes."

Gen bowed and left.

Arashi gestured for Saku to sit, then called to the musicians and dancers still kneeling on the floor.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Keep playing the music and keep dancing."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 32: On Top of the World

The night passed quietly, filled only with the pleasant sound of applause echoing through half the night.

When the first ray of morning sunlight shone through, Arashi woke up.

The hime beside him was still sleeping soundly, her black hair scattered across the brocade quilt, her cheeks flushed.

Like a flower glistening with morning dew.

Arashi's gaze lingered briefly on her curves before becoming calm again.

Last night's intimacy had been delightful, but nothing more.

He got out of bed, his bare feet touching the cold, smooth tiles.

The maids waiting outside entered quietly, their heads bowed, their movements graceful and silent.

One brought a hot towel, another clear salt water.

Arashi spread his arms slightly, allowing them to dress him.

Throughout the entire process, only the faint rustle of fabric could be heard.

By the time he had finished washing and was seated at the dining table, the hime had slowly woken.

Seeing Arashi already seated, her expression turned flustered, and she hurried to get up and bow.

"No need."

Arashi's tone was faint.

"Your dance was good. You will be rewarded."

"Gen will arrange your residence."

He did not look back, only waved his hand.

The hime froze for a moment, then her face brightened with joy.

She knew she had caught the Daimyo's attention.

She knelt respectfully, kowtowed, and quietly withdrew with the maids.

After breakfast, Arashi strolled to the study.

He stood before the enormous map of the Ninja World, hands clasped behind his back.

In his mind, the results of the System's deductions from several days ago began to evolve into specific strategies.

Economic influence and military deterrence.

That was the strategic guideline given by the sandbox.

But it only provided direction, not the means of execution.

The execution, however, was the real test.

Arashi pondered.

The Land of Earth was harsh and cold, and the Land of Wind was barren.

These two nations had a natural hunger for foreign goods.

But simply selling them food and weapons would be strengthening the enemy.

It had to be something non-essential yet irresistibly tempting.

Something that would rot them from within.

Arashi's thoughts gradually became clearer, as if he could already see the future.

In the cold stone palaces of Iwa, soft carpets from the Land of Fire would be spread.

On a wind-swept afternoon in Suna, nobles would sip sweet black tea they had never tasted before.

Once they grew accustomed to such luxuries, they would never return to their former lives.

If the strategy worked, Iwa and Suna's economic dependence on the Land of Fire would grow immensely, and their upper classes would become deeply tied to it.

When the seeds of desire sprouted, they would willingly become pawns in his hands, all to preserve their luxury.

Arashi took a sip of warm tea.

Everything was ready, only lacking an obedient executor.

A knock came at the study door.

"Come in."

Gen pushed the door open and bowed. "Daimyo-sama, Tanaka Shigeru requests an audience."

"Let him in."

Arashi sat back, his expression returning to a lazy calm.

Soon, the slightly plump Tanaka Shigeru entered, dressed particularly formally.

"Greetings, Daimyo-sama!"

He knelt low, performing a deep bow.

"Rise, and be seated."

"Thank you, Daimyo-sama."

Tanaka sat carefully, his posture humble, then presented a scroll.

"Reporting to Daimyo-sama, this is the preliminary budget plan for the concubine selection ceremony. Please review it."

Arashi waved a hand. "For such minor matters, you and Gen can handle them. You don't need to ask me about everything."

"Yes... this official understands!"

Tanaka quickly retracted the scroll.

Arashi spoke directly. "I called you here to discuss something else."

Tanaka straightened immediately. "Please instruct, Daimyo-sama."

"The war has ended. The country must recover, and the people must live in peace."

"I intend to strengthen trade relations with Iwa and Suna."

"What do you think we should sell them?"

Tanaka's mind raced.

Strengthen trade with Iwa and Suna? Why these two nations in particular?

What about Kumo and Kiri?

Years in politics had honed his instincts. Something about this felt deliberate.

He thought for a moment before replying cautiously, "Daimyo-sama is wise. Post-war reconstruction and mutual trade are indeed the best ways to enrich the nation and benefit the people."

"Iwa is cold and harsh, and Suna is barren. If we sell them grain and cloth in exchange for ore and local products, it would be a win-win situation!"

Arashi chuckled softly.

The light laugh made Tanaka's heart sink. He had said the wrong thing.

"Tanaka," Arashi said calmly, "you are good with finances, but your vision is too narrow."

"We cannot sell too much grain or cloth."

"If we give them too much, they will be full and warm, and then they will have the strength to pick up weapons again."

"We want to make money, not strengthen them. Do you understand?"

Tanaka immediately understood.

The Daimyo's goal was not simple trade at all.

This was a grand strategy, a terrifyingly elegant one that used economics as a weapon.

And his earlier suggestion now seemed childish.

He sat frozen, his thoughts spinning.

Not food or cloth. Not strengthening, but weakening through desire.

A flash of inspiration struck him.

Luxury goods!

Silk, porcelain, tea, fine wine.

The unique luxuries of the Land of Fire.

"This official understands! I know what we should sell now!"

"The trade of grain and cloth can remain symbolic, but what we truly need to sell are those things they lack, yet can never abandon once they have them!"

"Like silk. Which noble lady in Iwa or Suna wouldn't crave beautiful clothes? Who would want to face stone and sand forever?"

"And our porcelain. They'll need exquisite tea sets to flaunt their status."

"Oh, and sugar. No one can resist sweetness. Once people taste it, they'll never return to bitter lives!"

"We have endless supplies, and they can only buy them with money."

Tanaka spoke faster, growing excited.

He felt as though he had stepped into a new world.

These luxuries were beautiful poisons, intoxicating and corrupting.

They wouldn't make a nation stronger, only weaker, consumed by indulgence.

Arashi listened quietly, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Good. This old man was still useful.

Just as Tanaka thought he had grasped everything, Arashi asked lightly,

"Speaking of which, Kumo still refuses to sign the peace treaty?"

"They really are a bunch of fools with only muscles for brains."

"A pity. With so many good things, they won't have the fortune to enjoy them."

That one sentence made Tanaka freeze.

Strengthening trade with Iwa and Suna, excluding Kumo, corrupting their elites through luxury, tying them to Fire's wealth—all the clues clicked into place.

The goal was isolation.

To strangle Kumo economically.

This Daimyo had no intention of true peace.

He would use money and trade to choke Kumo to death outside the battlefield.

Tanaka didn't even dare breathe too loudly.

Then another thought hit him.

Iwa, Suna, Kumo... what about Kiri?

He gathered his courage. "Then... Daimyo-sama, what should we do about Kiri?"

"What do you think?"

Arashi returned the question.

Tanaka froze, then sank into thought again.

Kiri... the Hidden Mist Village... was mired in civil war, closed off from the world.

A nation consumed by internal strife, too busy with itself to interfere.

The current greatest threat to the Land of Fire was Kumo, not Kiri.

His thoughts aligned, and he bowed. "This official understands!"

"Kiri is deeply trapped in the Blood Mist conflict and cannot interfere with us, nor can it be a useful ally."

"Our main target is Kumo. We should avoid creating new problems."

"With Kiri, we only need to maintain the status quo, keeping minimal trade, neither helping nor hindering it."

"Mm."

Arashi was finally satisfied.

"Then proceed. Draft a detailed trade list and implementation plan."

"To improve efficiency, you will head a new department—the Foreign Trade Promotion Department—to handle all related affairs."

He had bet correctly.

Tanaka was overjoyed and quickly accepted.

"Oh, and," Arashi added casually, "I have some promising young people skilled in economics. They'll join the department as your deputies to gain experience."

"Yes, Daimyo-sama. This official obeys!"

He understood. These were the Daimyo's confidants.

But he felt no resentment, only relief.

It meant the Daimyo still valued him.

"You may withdraw."

"This official takes his leave!"

Tanaka bowed deeply and left the study.

Only Arashi remained.

He slowly stood and walked to the enormous map.

His gaze fell on the Land of Lightning, eyes gleaming with conquest.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 33: The Decree

The decree from the Daimyo Manor regarding the selection of consorts spread throughout the entire Land of Fire.

The decree mentioned no coercion. Instead, it was issued under the name of celebrating the new ruler's ascension, praying for national prosperity, and extending the Land's fortune. The wording was elegant and sincere.

It stated that the Daimyo, grateful for his people's support, wished to share his glory with all.

Therefore, this selection was not limited to nobles but open to the entire Land of Fire.

Any woman at least eighteen years old, unmarried, and of good character and appearance, regardless of her background, could voluntarily participate.

Once selected, she would gain great honor, and her family would receive generous rewards and protection.

It did not seem like a consort selection.

It was more like a festival that could change one's destiny.

On the day the decree was issued, the Fire Capital completely erupted.

In every street, alley, tavern, and tea house, chatter filled the air.

"Did you hear? Even civilians can join the consort selection! If our daughter is chosen, she'll be set for life!"

"My second daughter is absolutely beautiful!"

"Your second daughter? The one who looks a bit like your neighbor Watanabe?"

"Yes, that's her. It's strange, actually…"

The common folk's conversations were simple and enthusiastic. Though mixed with jokes and gossip, they saw it as proof of the Daimyo's kindness.

But inside the noble estates, the atmosphere was very different.

The noble families of the Fire Capital all held urgent meetings at once.

They understood what this really meant.

This was not merely a consort selection, but an invitation to political alignment.

"We must choose the most outstanding daughter from our clan! This is our chance for a century of prosperity!"

"The rewards don't matter. Forming a bloodline connection with the Daimyo is a priceless treasure!"

Countless greedy eyes focused on this grand event.

If possible, they all wanted their family's daughter to become the Daimyo's lady.

While the outside world was in chaos, the Daimyo Manor remained calm.

In the study, Arashi leaned by the window, leisurely sipping tea while listening to Gen's report.

"Daimyo-sama, several nobles have already sent portraits of their daughters. They've been compiled into a booklet."

Gen's tone carried excitement.

To him, his lord expanding his harem and having more descendants was a great blessing.

"Very good."

Arashi put down his teacup, then suddenly asked, "Gen, do you think I truly lack women?"

Gen froze, unsure why his lord would ask that, and could only bow respectfully. "Daimyo-sama's grace is unmatched. All women in the world are drawn to him."

"You flatter me."

Arashi shook his head slightly.

"What I lack is not women, but an opportunity to see people clearly."

His gaze fell on the streets below, where people bustled about with hidden motives.

"In this consort selection, appearance and talent are secondary."

"This is a large-scale loyalty test, a mirror to expose every hidden monster and schemer."

Arashi turned, his eyes sharp.

"Abolish the previous selection criteria."

"I have only one requirement now. Investigate the families behind the candidates."

"Their loyalty, ambition, and usefulness—these are what matter."

"As for the candidates themselves…"

He paused, a playful smile curving his lips. "What I want are vases."

"The more exquisite, the more they only know how to please me, the better. The simpler, the better."

Gen looked puzzled.

Arashi saw through his thoughts and explained calmly.

"An ambitious, capable woman will think and scheme, bringing unnecessary trouble. And I hate trouble."

"A beautiful vase, however, binds the family behind her to my side."

"What I need is loyalty and control, not a bedmate with ulterior motives."

"Do you understand?"

Gen immediately understood.

So, behind this consort selection, there was far more at play.

"This servant understands!"

"Oh, and one more thing."

Arashi suddenly gave another order.

"Issue a joint command to the Ministry of Finance and the Ministry of Internal Affairs. Conduct a full tax audit of all Hyuga Clan properties in the Fire Capital."

"I want to know if every single ryo they own is clean."

The order came abruptly.

It wasn't because the Hyuga Clan had refused to send a family member to participate.

It was because of their subtle hostility toward him.

They needed to be taught a lesson.

As one of Konoha's top noble families, the Hyuga owned vast property in the Fire Capital, the source of their clan's wealth.

This audit would not bankrupt them, but it would be a deep humiliation.

Through this, Arashi sent them a message.

Your hesitation will cost you your dignity.

Either kneel.

Or be crushed.

"Yes!"

Gen bowed deeply and left in a hurry.

Arashi sat back in his chair.

He knew Hyuga Hiashi would understand this warning clearly.

At the same time this order spread,

Inside the guesthouse in the Fire Capital,

Minister of Finance Tanaka Shigeru was hosting envoys from Iwa and Suna.

This time, Tanaka did not take them to the lavish noble districts. Instead, he led them through several ordinary streets.

There, they saw a different side of the Fire Capital.

The air was filled with genuine laughter from the people.

"Please look, honored guests," Tanaka said, pointing to a busy fabric shop with a smile. "The owner was once a Genin from Konoha. He was wounded in the leg during the last war and could no longer serve."

"It was Daimyo-sama who created the Disabled Ninja Support Program, allowing him to receive an interest-free loan and open this shop."

The shop owner noticed Tanaka from afar and hurried over, bowing deeply with heartfelt gratitude.

"Lord Tanaka!"

His sincerity was unmistakable.

After that, Tanaka led the envoys past a tea house.

Inside, civilians and ninja chatted about the consort selection ceremony, their expressions filled with excitement and support.

The two envoys' polite smiles grew stiff.

They exchanged silent glances, unease flickering in their eyes.

The true power of the Land of Fire was not just its wealth, but its unity.

The evening banquet further magnified that unseen pressure.

There was no music or entertainment.

The envoy from Iwa picked up a white porcelain teacup. It felt light and delicate in his hand.

A soft fragrance wafted into his nose.

He took a sip, finding the tea smooth and sweet in its aftertaste.

It reminded him of the moss tea treasured by his Daimyo.

That tea had a rough texture and a faint earthy smell.

Compared to this, it was like heaven and earth.

The envoy from Suna subtly clutched the napkin beside him.

Smooth silk, fine and soft to the touch.

In Suna, such fabric would drive noble ladies mad with envy. Even their Daimyo's banquets used only coarse linen.

But here, it was just a disposable napkin.

Such extravagance made his heart race.

What shocked them most was the sugar.

When desserts drizzled with syrup were served, both envoys froze for a moment.

In their nations, sweetness could only come from honey or fruit syrup, both scarce and seasonal luxuries.

But here, judging by Tanaka's relaxed demeanor, sugar seemed common.

Tanaka raised his cup cheerfully, smiling. He did not mention trade at all, speaking only about Daimyo-sama's devotion to peace and concern for the people.

"Honored guests, after such a long journey, you are the most distinguished visitors of our Land of Fire."

"Our Daimyo-sama often says that war brings only ruin, while prosperity is born from peace and exchange."

Then he subtly shifted his tone.

"Therefore, Daimyo-sama has instructed me to seek deeper cultural exchanges with your nations, to strengthen the friendship between our three countries."

Cultural exchange?

The envoys' hearts trembled.

They were no fools.

Behind Tanaka's warm smile hid a cunning snare.

As soon as the banquet ended, the two envoys returned to their rooms and immediately sent urgent reports back to their homelands, detailing everything they had seen, heard, and felt that day, along with Tanaka's meaningful words.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 34: Goodbye Former Me

Fire Capital, underground black market.

In the dark, damp passageway, the stench of rust, cheap liquor, and sweat mixed into an unbearable odor.

Mei lowered her straw hat, letting her wide robe hide her alluring figure.

Her emerald eyes cautiously scanned every shadow.

This was her last hope, her final gamble for the resistance army.

As a representative of the Hidden Mist resistance, she had risked everything to infiltrate the Fire Capital, bringing all of their remaining funds to purchase food and medical supplies for the Dawn Operation.

But reality struck her hard.

"What did you say? Triple?" Mei's voice was low and restrained. "It wasn't this price half a month ago."

Behind the counter, a merchant selling military ration pills picked his teeth with a sneer. "What year do you think it is?"

"Right now, the Land of Fire is hiring like crazy. Wages are going up every day. Even moving bricks pays better than being a ninja."

"Everyone's got money now, so how could prices not rise?"

The merchant spat out his toothpick, his tone impatient. "That's the price. Buy or don't. There's a line behind you, so stop wasting my time."

Mei clenched the money pouch in her sleeve.

The metallic touch bit into her palm.

Undeterred, she went to several other shady shops.

But the results were all the same.

The prices for all necessary supplies had skyrocketed.

Her funds could barely purchase a third of what was planned.

The Dawn Operation had been in preparation for a year, meant to rescue the families of captured comrades.

Without enough supplies, the operation would fail, and those people would die.

A middle-aged merchant, slightly kinder than the rest, noticed her pale face and sighed.

"Girl, stop trying."

"The current Daimyo is like a living god. He's reduced taxes, supports wounded ninja, and even started something called the 'Civilian Genius Cultivation Program.'"

"In the Land of Fire, as long as you're willing to work, you'll never starve."

"Soon, there won't be anyone left doing this kind of black market business."

The man's comforting words were like knives, cutting deeper and deeper into Mei's heart.

She walked out of the black market, the sudden sunlight blinding her eyes.

The wide streets were clean. The air smelled of roasted meat and sweet pastries, a sharp contrast to the stench of the underground market.

People on the streets wore new clothes, their faces full of real smiles.

A group of children ran past, laughing, holding candied hawthorns glistening in the sun.

The bright red color pierced her heart.

She remembered the Hidden Mist Village, shrouded in a haze of blood.

Children there only smiled during the graduation exam, that twisted smile that came when they drove a kunai into a comrade's chest.

But here in the Land of Fire, smiles were free, everywhere.

In front of a fabric shop, a man with a crippled leg stood proudly with his wife, showing his neighbors the pension he had received.

At a teahouse, people crowded together, talking loudly about the Daimyo.

"Did you hear? Even civilians can receive funding from the Genius Cultivation Program!"

"Daimyo-sama truly cares about us commoners!"

Every word of praise was like a silent mockery of her homeland's misery.

She had always believed that all rulers were the same—cruel, selfish, and indifferent—differing only in how they showed it.

She had believed that only rebellion, only blood and sacrifice, could bring peace.

But everything she saw now left her shaken.

A nation could be like this.

It could be prosperous, peaceful, and full of hope under a wise ruler.

People didn't have to live in fear. They could follow their leader toward a better life.

The realization struck harder than any failure.

She stumbled toward the river, gripping the railing, breathing heavily.

The reflection in the water showed her pale face and her emerald eyes filled with confusion.

Why?

Why was the Land of Fire like this, while her homeland was hell?

She thought of her childhood friend, the gentle boy who once cried over an injured bird.

He had once told her, smiling, that when the war was over, he would take her to watch the sunrise over the sea.

But because he possessed a kekkei genkai, he and his family were slaughtered like animals.

The last thing she saw was his mutilated body.

Not even a whole corpse remained.

Hatred and grief surged in her chest.

Yagura Karatachi must die.

The Blood Mist tyranny must be destroyed.

Even if it cost her life.

But when she touched the nearly empty money pouch, despair returned.

Without supplies, the Dawn Operation would fail.

Failure meant her comrades would die.

She could not accept that.

She would rather die herself than see them die for nothing.

Mei's gaze shifted from confusion to pain, and from pain to resolve.

If death held no meaning, what was her pride worth?

She recalled what she had heard earlier about the Daimyo's concubine selection.

If her body and beauty were the only weapons left to her... then why not use them?

A mad idea took root in her mind and quickly consumed her.

Concubine selection.

The Daimyo was choosing consorts, and the decree said anyone could apply.

If selected, their families would receive great rewards.

Rewards...

If she were chosen, she didn't care about glory or title. She wanted money.

Enough money to buy ten times, even a hundred times, the supplies they needed.

If she had to trade her dignity to save her comrades and the Hidden Mist Village, then so be it.

That was a trade worth making.

Once the thought appeared, it could not be stopped.

Humiliation, disgust, and self-loathing flooded her.

She could almost feel a stranger's hand judging her body.

Her stomach churned, and she nearly vomited.

But the faces of her comrades, full of faith, and the dying eyes of that boy burned in her mind.

Her weakness turned to fire.

Pride?

Dignity?

Before the future of her village, they were meaningless.

She straightened, wiping the tears from her eyes.

When she looked up again, there was no confusion left in her emerald eyes, only fierce determination.

She tore off her loose robe, revealing a blue dress that traced her perfect figure.

She combed her long brown hair and let it fall to one side of her face, leaving a hint of mystery and charm.

Looking at her reflection in the river, she gave a bitter smile.

"Daimyo of the Land of Fire... for the Hidden Mist, I will give everything I have."

"I hope you can bear the cost."

She turned away, no longer looking at the light and prosperity behind her.

Resolutely, she walked toward the direction of the concubine selection registration.

With every step, her heart ached a little more.

But her back remained straight.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 35: Broken Mist Flower

The corridor was long and silent.

Mei followed behind a maid, the sound of her wooden clogs echoing softly against the polished floor.

The maid maintained a distance of three steps from her at all times.

She neither spoke nor looked around.

Like a lifeless doll, every movement was precise and rigid.

That extreme adherence to form itself became a kind of invisible pressure.

Finally, the maid stopped before a door with no markings.

She did not open it, only turned to the side and made a slight bowing gesture.

"Please enter. Someone is waiting for you."

Mei's heart tightened.

Was she going to meet that man already?

She steadied her breathing, forcing her heart to calm.

More than a dozen plans flashed through her mind.

Probing conversation. Sudden attack. Even the desperate resolve to die together.

But when her hand touched the cold door knocker, she extinguished every one of those thoughts herself.

It was useless.

She had seen the Anbu during the enthronement ceremony.

In the Fire Capital, in this man's palace, any resistance was laughable.

She pushed open the door.

Inside, there was none of the luxury she had imagined.

It was empty.

The walls were dull gray, the air thick with the mixed scent of herbs and aged wood.

In the center stood three old women dressed in dark kimonos.

Their hair was white, faces wrinkled, and expressions solemn.

As Mei entered, the heavy wooden door behind her slowly closed.

Click.

The soft sound of the lock falling made her pulse quicken.

Her emerald eyes tightened, and her hand instinctively reached for her back.

It was empty.

Only then did she remember that all her weapons had been confiscated before entry.

"No need to be nervous."

The leading old woman finally spoke, her voice dry, like leaves rubbing together.

"We are simply following orders."

Another old woman stepped forward, holding a wooden tray.

On it lay a ruler, a measuring tape, and a thick booklet.

"There are rules for the consort selection."

"There is a system for entering the palace."

"Before you meet Daimyo-sama, you must undergo a full examination."

The color drained from Mei's face.

She was not naive. She knew exactly what "examination" meant.

"Take off your clothes. All of them."

The old woman's tone was calm, almost casual.

But the words hit Mei like a blade.

Humiliation and rage surged through her.

She was the leader of the Hidden Mist resistance.

An elite Jonin who had mastered two Kekkei Genkai.

She had waded through seas of blood, snapped the necks of countless enemies.

And now she was being treated like an object, to be inspected?

"What if I refuse?"

Her voice was cold, trembling slightly even as she spoke.

A ripple finally appeared in the old woman's eyes.

Not surprise, not anger.

Pity.

"Girl, think carefully."

"Once this door closes, there's no turning back."

"If you refuse now, we won't force you. We'll just escort you out."

"But everything you seek will vanish with that choice."

Her words were calm, but each syllable pressed heavier on Mei's chest.

She clenched her fists, her nails cutting deep into her palms. The pain helped her stay clear-headed.

She thought of her comrades still fighting in the blood mist.

She thought of her ruined, suffering homeland.

She was their hope.

If she turned back here, what would their sacrifices mean?

Mei slowly opened her fists.

The fragile pride in her heart was crushed, turned to dust beneath the weight of duty.

She closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, the anger and resistance were gone.

What remained was acceptance.

And sacrifice.

Her trembling fingers moved to untie the sash at her waist.

The blue dress slipped down, pooling around her feet.

Then the undergarments.

One by one.

Her figure was flawless, every line perfect.

An ounce more would be excess, an ounce less too thin.

The old women's eyes passed over her inch by inch.

There was no admiration.

Only evaluation.

"Turn around."

The dry voice sounded again.

Mei's body stiffened, but she obeyed.

A cold sensation touched her back.

The wooden ruler.

The old woman moved it down her spine, section by section, professional and precise.

"Bones straight. No old injuries."

Then came the tape measure, brushing against her skin.

A chill made goosebumps rise across her body.

"Shoulder width."

"Arm length."

"Waist circumference."

"Hip circumference."

"Leg length."

One measured while another recorded in the booklet.

The process dragged on endlessly.

From height and weight to finger length, even the thickness of her hair was noted.

She forced herself to detach. To empty her mind.

She recalled her clumsy first attempts at Chakra control.

The joy of her first completed mission.

The laughter of comrades drinking under the sunset.

Those memories were her only defense.

"All right."

"Lie face down on that couch."

The voice snapped her back to reality.

She turned her head and saw a narrow couch in the corner, covered with a white cloth.

Her heart sank.

Her worst fear had come.

She didn't move. Her feet felt rooted to the ground.

"Girl."

There was impatience in the old woman's tone now.

"Don't waste everyone's time."

Mei bit her lip until she tasted blood.

She knew she had no choice.

Step by step, she moved forward, her motions mechanical.

When she lay face down on the couch, hot tears slid down her cheeks uncontrollably.

Nausea and shame filled her chest.

Her instincts screamed to resist.

But a hand, cold and heavy, pressed against her back.

She wanted to fight, but she couldn't.

Time crawled.

Each second was torture.

Her mind went blank.

All her pride and strength turned to ash.

She didn't know how long it lasted.

The hand finally lifted.

"Intact."

"No body odor."

"Good condition. Very clean."

The old woman wiped her hands with a white cloth and gave her verdict flatly.

"Get up."

"Put your clothes on."

"Someone will take you to see Lord Gen."

The three old women packed up their things and exited through a hidden door without another glance.

Only Mei remained.

She lay on the couch, unmoving.

Her blank eyes stared at the floor.

There lay her tears.

And her shattered dignity.

(To be continued.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 36: Will of Fire

While Mei was still gathering her shattered dignity,

Minato was also waiting for the Daimyo's summons.

Unlike before, Minato wore the Hokage's ceremonial robe today, symbolizing his position.

His golden hair was still striking, and his deep blue eyes were calm.

He did not even have a guard announce him. He simply stood quietly outside the study, waiting.

His posture was not like that of the Fourth Hokage famed across the Ninja World, but like an ordinary subject awaiting his monarch's call.

When he entered, he stopped three steps from the desk.

Then he bowed at a ninety-degree angle.

"Daimyo-sama."

The address had not changed.

However, the usual reserve and aloofness of the Hokage in his tone were gone.

Arashi leaned back in his chair, tapping the armrest.

He did not tell Minato to rise, nor did he speak.

Silence was a monarch's best weapon.

It applied pressure and revealed much.

The study was silent.

Minato maintained his bow, perfectly still, his fringe shadowing his eyes, hiding his expression.

The sharp aura that usually surrounded him had been reined in.

He was like a sheathed sword.

After an unknown time, Arashi spoke.

"Have you come to your senses?"

"Yes, I have."

"Rise. Tell me how you came to your senses."

Minato straightened, meeting Arashi's gaze openly.

"I previously… always considered matters from Konoha's perspective. My thinking was narrow, and I failed to live up to Daimyo-sama's expectations."

"Oh?"

Arashi leaned forward slightly, interest piqued. "Then what perspective are you taking now?"

Minato drew a deep breath, his expression solemn.

"The Land of Fire."

The three words landed heavily.

He continued, "From now on, Konoha's interests will fully serve the overall interests of the Land of Fire."

"Konoha is the Konoha of the Land of Fire."

This statement was a belated pledge of allegiance.

It meant Minato, the Fourth Hokage, had completely submitted to the Daimyo in spirit.

Arashi's smile widened.

This was better than he expected.

A Hokage with a broken spine was a puppet.

A Hokage who actively embraced his ideals was a useful tool.

"Very good."

Arashi finally spoke with approval.

"Sit, Minato."

"Tell me your new plan."

"Yes."

Minato sat as instructed, took out a scroll, and presented it with both hands.

There was no pretense of equality now, only a subordinate reporting to a superior.

"Regarding the Genius Cultivation Special Fund, this subordinate believes Daimyo-sama's approach is entirely correct."

"Concentrating resources to cultivate top-tier combat power is indeed the best way to enhance the Land of Fire's deterrence in the short term."

"However, simple financial assistance can easily lead young ninja astray with power and wealth, making them forget their original intention to fight."

He looked up, eyes sincere and pleading.

"Therefore, I propose upgrading the Genius Cultivation Program to the Will of Fire Legacy Program."

"Will of Fire?"

Arashi savored the words. "Continue."

Minato continued, "Selected geniuses will not only receive funds and resources, but must also accept one-on-one mentorship."

"The mentors will be the most experienced and resolute jonin in the village."

"Their responsibility is to teach these geniuses how to wield power correctly, guide them to dedicate themselves to the country, and make them understand the responsibility that comes with power."

"This fund is for shaping their strength, but even more, for shaping their spirit."

Minato glanced at Arashi. Seeing no objection, his heart eased slightly.

"As for the selection of the Twelve Guardian Ninja, this subordinate suggests an open competition for all ninja in the village."

"Regardless of origin or background, only loyalty and strength will matter."

"The twelve final winners will represent Konoha, becoming the sharpest swords in Daimyo-sama's hand, and the supreme honor of the Land of Fire."

"This will let all ninja see a fair path to advancement and maximize potential, selecting the strongest warriors for you."

He finished and looked at Arashi expectantly.

Arashi did not answer immediately. He picked up the plan and flipped through it page by page.

The handwriting was neat, the organization clear, with detailed contingencies for selection rules and mentor screening.

It was evident Minato had not rested much while drafting this.

All of his struggle had gone into this scroll.

Minato's heart tightened.

He did not know if the Daimyo would tolerate his hidden intention, to bind genius cultivation to the Will of Fire.

It was the last line he could hold as Hokage.

After a long time, Arashi closed the scroll and set it on the desk.

"The plan is good."

He looked at Minato, his gaze unreadable, as if to see through him.

"Minato, you are very clever."

"You know what I want, and what you want to preserve."

"You are trying to find a balance within my rules, one you can accept."

Minato's heart sank.

As expected, his intentions could not escape this monarch.

"However…"

Arashi's tone shifted, a playful expression returning.

"I like clever subordinates."

"Working with clever people is efficient."

He picked up the imperial brush, dipped it in cinnabar, and signed the cover with bold, flowing strokes.

"It will be done as you say."

"I have only one requirement."

Arashi's voice grew heavier.

"The mentor list for the Will of Fire Legacy Program."

"The final list of selected geniuses."

"And the selection results for the Twelve Guardian Ninja."

"All must be reviewed and ultimately approved by me."

He paused, then spoke clearly,

"Their power is bestowed by me."

"Their loyalty can only belong to me, to the Land of Fire."

"As for that Will of Fire you mentioned…"

Arashi leaned back, arms folded, calmly watching Minato.

"From today, my will is the Will of Fire."

"Do you understand?"

Arashi had agreed to the plan.

Minato should have been pleased, but he was not.

Because with one sentence, the Daimyo had taken the soul of the plan.

The Daimyo's will was the Will of Fire.

It was a final warning, the ultimate declaration of power.

All his struggle, effort, and compromise turned to dust in that moment.

What he tried to protect would exist only under a new name.

A name belonging to the Daimyo.

Minato slowly closed his eyes.

When he opened them, the last flicker of Hokage's light in his blue eyes had gone out.

He stood again, removed the ceremonial robe, revealing his ninja uniform.

He folded the robe neatly and placed it aside.

Then he knelt on one knee, without hesitation.

This time, it was a subject's etiquette to his monarch.

"From today, Konoha will no longer have a Hokage."

"Only Minato Namikaze, supreme commander of Konoha under the Daimyo of the Land of Fire."

In that moment.

An era ended completely.

Arashi finally smiled with satisfaction. "No, you are still the Hokage."

He generously returned the title.

Because Hokage was just a name now.

"Thank you, Daimyo-sama."

[Ding!]

[Target: Minato Namikaze]

[Loyalty: 85, Loyal and reliable]

[Congratulations to the host for completing the hidden quest: The Hokage's Demise. You have completely subdued the Fourth Hokage, and Konoha, this sharpest sword, is now in your hands.]

[Reward: National Luck +500]

Very good.

Arashi looked at the man kneeling before him, mood light.

"Rise, Fourth Hokage."

"From today, you will have a bigger stage."

He picked up the ceremonial robe and personally draped it over Minato.

"The future of the Land of Fire needs your Flying Thunder God Technique."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 37: Fanatical Uchiha

Minato Namikaze left.

The hem of his ceremonial robe swayed in the wind.

His back remained straight and tall.

But Arashi knew the Hokage's flagpole had broken.

And he had personally mended it, shaping it into the form he desired.

Konoha.

The Land of Fire's sharpest blade.

From today on, both the hilt and the blade were firmly in his grasp.

Only, some blades still needed a bit of sharpening.

Arashi leaned back against the armrest, tapping lightly.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Contentment.

Satisfaction.

To see the protagonist of an era, the hero of a world, kneel before him in heartfelt submission, this feeling was a hundred times more wonderful than crushing him with the power of the Six Paths.

Power was the confidence to overturn the table.

Authority was the utensil for enjoying the good things in this world.

Konoha Village.

Uchiha Clan territory.

The sharp whistling of shuriken on the training grounds and the dull thuds of sparring had vanished.

In their place came the sound of a zither and soft singing.

Three Uchiha maidens, dressed in simple kimonos, knelt on cushions.

They kept their heads lowered, their expressions solemn.

Mikoto sat at the head.

Her face was gentle, but her eyes were cold as iron.

She personally instructed the girls.

A flicker of the eye.

A turn of the wrist.

Any slight mistake drew her merciless reprimand.

This was no longer a consort selection.

This was a rigorous screening for the Uchiha, no.

This was for the future Mother of the Nation of the Land of Fire.

"Ragyō."

Mikoto's voice was soft, yet it made one maiden in the room tremble.

That girl resembled her seven or eight tenths. Her features were more youthful, with a trace of innocent charm still in her eyes.

She was Mikoto's younger sister, Ragyō.

"Sister."

Ragyō stood, nervously twisting her sleeve, her head bowed even lower.

"Your heart is not calm."

Mikoto lifted the tea Ragyō had just brewed, but did not drink. She only smelled it.

"The fragrance floats on the surface. It will be bitter when tasted."

Ragyō's cheeks flushed. She murmured, "I, I am just a little nervous, Sister…"

"Nervous?"

Mikoto set the cup down gently, but her expression was icy.

"In the future, in front of Daimyo-sama, will you also say you are nervous?"

"One mistake will not ruin only you, but the entire Uchiha Clan."

"Can your life pay for that responsibility?"

The last sentence was a sharp rebuke.

Ragyō's lips trembled, her face turned pale, and she could not speak.

The other maidens even softened their breathing.

Seeing her sister's distress, reluctance flickered through Mikoto's heart, but resolve quickly replaced it.

She walked up and straightened Ragyō's slightly disheveled collar.

"Ragyō, remember this."

"From the moment you stepped in here, your name ceased to matter."

"You are the future of the Uchiha Clan."

Her hand gently caressed her sister's face, so similar to her own, her eyes filled with complex emotion.

"Go and meditate beneath the backyard waterfall."

"When your heart is colder than pond ice, come see me again."

"Yes, Sister."

With tears in her eyes, Ragyō bowed and withdrew, her slender back seeming as if it might collapse at any moment.

Watching her sister's retreating figure, Mikoto's eyes turned distant.

How could she not know how cruel this was?

But she had no choice.

Compared to the future glory of the Uchiha, a girl's tears were insignificant.

Just then, Clan Head Fugaku stepped in from outside.

He glanced over the room, satisfaction in his eyes, and nodded to Mikoto.

"You've worked hard."

"For the clan…"

Mikoto replied coolly.

Fugaku moved beside her and lowered his voice. "There is still no movement from the Hyuga."

"As expected." Mikoto's tone was calm. "The arrogance of the Hyuga is engraved in their bones."

"Hmph, foolish arrogance." Fugaku snorted. "Does he think it is still the past? In Daimyo-sama's eyes, his Hyuga are no different from stray dogs on the roadside."

He paused, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes.

"However, that is perfect."

"The more stubborn the Hyuga are, the more our Uchiha loyalty stands out."

"I have already sent the ledgers of all Hyuga tax evasion and illegal operations in the Fire Capital to the Daimyo Manor."

This was the Uchiha pledge of allegiance.

A flicker of unusual emotion crossed Mikoto's eyes.

"What about the Ino–Shika–Chō families?"

"They are cunning." Fugaku's tone dripped with disdain. "They say they will wait for Daimyo-sama's orders."

"They will regret it."

Mikoto lifted her gaze toward the direction of the Fire Capital.

"When a child of the Daimyo, bearing Uchiha blood, is born, our clan will become truly eminent."

Hearing this, Fugaku's eyes blazed.

Yes.

That day would not be far.

Compared to the busy Uchiha compound, the Hyuga Main House was eerily silent.

"Smash!"

A valuable celadon cup shattered on the floor.

Hiashi's chest heaved, his face ashen, the veins at the corners of his eyes bulging with rage.

The tax official from the Daimyo Manor had just left.

They had said little, only that a decision must be made quickly.

Otherwise, all back taxes from the past ten years must be repaid, plus a threefold fine.

That astronomical figure could wipe out centuries of Hyuga wealth in an instant.

This was not an audit.

This was extortion.

"Too much. Too much."

Hiashi roared.

In front of him, several Main Family elders kept silent, not daring to breathe loudly.

"Clan Head, what, what should we do?" an elder stammered.

"You want me to send Hyuga daughters into that place as well?"

Hiashi turned, his pure white eyes bloodshot, glaring at the elder.

"I am telling you."

"Even if the Hyuga fight to the last person and shed the last drop of blood, we will never endure such humiliation."

The roar echoed through the empty room.

Only, it sounded more like a lament.

At the Daimyo Manor's concubine selection registration point in Konoha, another scene unfolded.

It was already overflowing with people.

The enthusiasm of the commoners was simple and direct.

To them, this was a true path that could change their fate.

At the edge of the crowd, several figures stood out.

The Inuzuka representative sat beside a ninja dog, eyes scanning the crowd.

The Aburame representative was wrapped in a trench coat, with a few insects fluttering restlessly.

And the Kurama representative stood by as well. Beside each of them stood a beautiful young maiden of excellent appearance.

These lesser clans did not expect to secure a concubine's position. Even a moment of favor from the Daimyo would bring great benefits to their families.

This fervor swept through all of Konoha.

Even some respected jonin could not stay aloof.

And Yuhi Shinku was among them.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 38: In the Name of Love

Konoha Village, Training Ground Three.

The afterglow of the setting sun stretched the shadows of three wooden stakes.

Whoosh.

The sharp whistle of a shuriken tore the air.

It embedded in the bullseye, humming.

Kurenai's black hair clung to her cheeks with sweat as she panted, crimson pupils shining with excitement.

Genjutsu, Mist Servant Technique.

Her figure split into three.

Each clone looked solid, even the unyielding battle intent was identical.

She was very satisfied with her current strength.

Ever since hearing that the Daimyo Manor had created a special fund for the Genius Cultivation Program, Kurenai had yearned for that opportunity.

She believed she could do it.

Konoha's future would be better.

That Daimyo was not as cold as the rumors claimed.

"Kurenai."

A familiar voice called out.

The Genjutsu dispersed, and Kurenai turned in surprise. "Father."

Shinku stood in the shade of a tree, still in his dust-stained standard vest, clearly just back from a mission.

His face was stern, but his eyes were gentle.

"You're back. Was the mission smooth?"

Her steps were light as she jogged up to him, sweat beading on her forehead, brows lifting in a smile.

"Mm."

Shinku answered quietly.

His gaze fell to her fingers, chafed from high-intensity hand seals.

Distress flickered in his eyes.

"Still practicing?"

"Yes."

Kurenai lifted her chin, proud. "Father, my Mist Servant Technique can already create three solid entities. Give me a little more time and I will definitely master Demonic Illusion, Tree Binding Death."

She waited eagerly for praise.

Like when she was little.

But none came.

Shinku just watched her silently.

No praise, no encouragement.

That complicated look made her uneasy.

"Kurenai."

He spoke again, deeper than before.

"Come with me."

Kurenai's joy went out like a flame.

She sensed something was wrong.

She nodded, reined in her emotions, and followed him home.

The house was as tidy as ever.

But today, the warmth was gone, replaced by a heavy pressure.

Her father did not wipe his ninja tools first as usual.

Instead, he knelt at the low table and personally poured her a cup of tea.

Steam rose, blurring his face.

"Father?"

Kurenai sat opposite him, unease rising.

Looking into his daughter's eyes, full of hope for the future, Shinku struggled inwardly.

After a long silence, he sighed heavily.

He knew.

Every word to come would be his, as her father, crushing his daughter's dream with his own hands.

But he had to say it.

"Kurenai, would you like to… live a different kind of life?"

"What do you mean, Father?"

"A life without slaughter, where you don't walk the edge of life and death every day."

His voice was soft.

But it made Kurenai's heart clench.

She vaguely guessed, and the color drained from her face.

Shinku took out a document from his vest.

He said nothing, and slowly pushed it over.

It was not a mission scroll.

It did not bear the Hokage's seal, but the golden crest of the Daimyo Manor.

Kurenai looked, and when her gaze fell on the words "Selection of Consorts" at the top,

her face went white.

Her smile froze.

"Father… you… what does this mean?"

Her voice trembled with disbelief.

She did not dare touch the document.

"The Daimyo is selecting consorts," Shinku said, terrifyingly calm. "With your beauty and talent, you will surely be chosen."

"I'm not going."

A sharp cry.

Kurenai sprang up, voice ringing. "I want to be a ninja. I want to become an excellent jonin like you. I want to protect Konoha with my Genjutsu."

"Ninja?"

A self-mocking smile tugged at Shinku's lips, his laugh weary.

"Kurenai, what is so good about being a ninja?"

He held out his hand.

A hand full of calluses and scars, one knuckle twisted out of shape.

He opened it before her.

"Look."

"This is the outcome of a lifetime as a ninja."

"I do not want you to live this life."

His calm tone made Kurenai's heart ache.

She knew he was thinking of her.

But she could not accept it.

"But I like being a ninja."

Her eyes reddened. Tears welled up, but she held them back stubbornly.

"This is my dream. And if I am selected for the Genius Cultivation Program, I will become even stronger and bring true glory to the family."

She thought "Genius Cultivation Program" was her final trump card.

It had the Daimyo's approval.

But her father only shook his head, looking at his innocent daughter with love and reluctance.

His words were ice.

"Glory?"

"Do you think that so-called Genius Cultivation Program is cultivating you?"

"No."

Shinku's single sentence shattered all her illusions.

"Ninja are tools."

"The so-called Genius Cultivation Program only sharpens the blades for Daimyo-sama."

"And tools have only two ends."

"Either they die on the battlefield."

"Or they go dull and get discarded."

"Look up at Hokage Rock. Look at Lord Third's situation now, and look at Lord Fourth."

His voice sank, almost resigned.

"Even the Hokage can only submit."

"You, a young girl just showing talent, what do you have to resist?"

"I do not want you to become a tool."

Every word nailed down her pride and her dreams.

Her ninja heart, too.

Tears finally spilled.

She choked, unwilling. "But that is not the life I want. I do not want that."

"You have no choice."

Shinku's tone hardened.

He stood and pressed the application into her cold hands.

The paper's edge cut her skin.

She looked at her father.

At the man who had cherished her since she was small.

She did not understand.

Why.

Why push her away with his own hands.

Seeing her tears, Shinku's expression softened.

He lifted his rough hand to stroke her head.

Halfway, it halted.

At last, it fell onto her trembling shoulder.

His voice held weariness and pleading.

"Kurenai."

"I… just cannot bear to see you hurt again."

"I do not want to collect your cold body from the battlefield one day."

"I only want you to live safely."

"In that place," he paused, "you will not smell blood anymore, and you will not fear whether you will see tomorrow's sun."

"That is the life you should live."

He withdrew his hand and moved toward the door.

Kurenai suddenly noticed his back was no longer straight.

Silver strands showed at his temples.

She understood.

This was not an order.

This was the only way out a father chose for his daughter.

A path paved by crushing her dreams.

To make such a choice,

Father must have been in great pain.

The document in her hands felt heavy as a boulder.

Kurenai slowly crouched, burying her face in her knees.

Muffled sobs filled the room.

Shinku stood at the doorway for a long time.

Only when the crying subsided did he walk away.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 39: Trade Layout for the Land of Thunder

Daimyo Manor, side hall.

Arashi was enjoying a song and dance performance.

Gen suddenly entered with light, quick steps, silently bowed, and stood to the side. Only when the music ended did he speak in a low voice.

"My Lord, there's a situation."

Arashi turned his chair, his gaze shifting from the dancing girls. "What is it?"

"Reporting, Lord, one of the candidates in this selection… your subordinate finds her suspicious."

"Suspicious?"

Arashi's fingers stopped tapping, curiosity flashing in his eyes.

Gen was in charge of selecting consorts and also handled a portion of intelligence work.

If he found something suspicious, it was likely more than a trivial matter.

"Tell me about it."

"Yes."

"This woman calls herself Shizumi. Her identity papers claim she is the daughter of a ruined merchant family from the southern border who came to the Fire Capital seeking a future through this selection."

"The documents themselves are flawless."

"But the problem is, I've seen her before."

Arashi's eyes instantly sharpened.

"Oh? Where have you seen her?"

As a steward, Gen's memory was reliable.

"Recently, when the delegation from the Land of Water came to attend your ascension ceremony."

Gen's expression was solemn. "At that time, Lord Aono was responsible for covert surveillance, and I assisted."

"I remember clearly that among the Land of Water's entourage, this woman wasn't originally present."

"She appeared suddenly."

"After that, she was among the Land of Water's escort guards, wearing the standard uniform of a Hidden Mist kunoichi."

"Although she kept her head down, I could never mistake that extremely rare brown long hair."

Hidden Mist.

Brown long hair.

Female.

A stunningly beautiful face instantly appeared in Arashi's mind.

He recalled the Hidden Mist intelligence provided by Jūzō.

It detailed the various factions under the Hidden Mist Village's Blood Mist reign.

Among them, intelligence about the rebel army was considered top priority.

And one of the leaders of that rebel army was Mei Terumī, with brown long hair.

The report described her as possessing the Bloodline Limits of Lava Release and Boil Release, formidable in strength, and resolute in mind.

Jūzō specifically noted that although she was young, she possessed a decisiveness far beyond her years, willing to do anything to overthrow Yagura Karatachi's rule.

The report ended with the dire state of the rebel army.

Their funding had dried up, supplies exhausted, and they had reached a dead end.

All clues connected at this moment.

Mei Terumī.

So… this is your "stop at nothing"?

Arashi's lips curved upward.

Interesting.

So interesting.

He had just been wondering how to intervene in Hidden Mist Village, and unexpectedly, the other party had delivered herself to his doorstep.

And in such a seductive way.

As for assassination?

While possible, it wasn't likely.

A woman capable of becoming Mizukage wasn't a fool; she wouldn't attempt a meaningless suicide mission.

The only explanation was that she had come seeking aid.

Using herself, her beauty and body, which would one day be unparalleled in the Ninja World, to exchange for the future of the rebel army.

The thought made the mischievous streak in Arashi's heart stir.

An arrogant, beautiful, strong woman who was destined to become a future Mizukage.

For the sake of what she cherished, she had to cast aside her pride, trying to plead with her enemy using her most basic assets.

This script… tsk tsk.

He liked it.

Arashi's smile grew wider.

He looked at Gen and suddenly asked an unexpected question.

"Has she… been examined?"

Gen was stunned for a moment, not expecting his Lord to ask so directly, but quickly bowed.

"She has been examined."

"All participating women undergo the strictest inspection. This is a rule set by your subordinate, and there is absolutely no mistake."

"Three of the most experienced palace old women personally checked and confirmed her… virginity."

Arashi's smile became completely uncontrollable.

He could almost imagine it.

That proud woman, that future Fifth Mizukage, being inspected by several shriveled old women like an object, how humiliated she must have felt inside.

Truly pitiful.

"My Lord, should she be…"

Gen made a gesture of slitting his throat.

In his opinion, dealing with a suspicious enemy kunoichi, no matter her purpose, was the safest course.

"No, no need."

Arashi waved his hand.

"Let her continue."

"I'd like to see what kind of play this beautiful bird, who willingly flew into the cage, intends to perform."

Gen was puzzled but dared not question further.

"Understood."

He respectfully withdrew.

The side hall returned to silence.

Arashi swirled the wine in his hand, feeling immensely pleased.

He had thought life would become dull after conquering Konoha.

Unexpectedly, a new toy had arrived so soon.

He returned to his study, pacing before the large map. His gaze crossed the Land of Fire's borders and settled precisely on the map of the Land of Water.

Mei Terumī, the future Fifth Mizukage.

Offering your body in exchange for hope?

How naive.

How adorable.

He chuckled softly.

At the same time, in the Daimyo Manor's administrative office.

Finance Minister Tanaka Shigeru was receiving envoys from Iwa and Suna.

The atmosphere in the hall was harmonious, showing no trace of the wars that had once occurred between the three nations.

Tanaka Shigeru, smiling gently, personally poured tea for both envoys.

"Honored envoys, have you come with news from your Daimyo-sama?"

The two envoys represented their nations' Daimyo and held real power over their countries' economic and livelihood matters.

The Iwa envoy accepted the tea and spoke earnestly. "Indeed."

"The cultural exchange proposed by Lord Tanaka last time was deeply considered by our Daimyo. He believes it is an excellent way to eliminate estrangement and promote peace."

"Therefore, I was specially dispatched to discuss the specifics of cooperation with the Land of Fire."

The Suna envoy also took the opportunity to speak. "Our Daimyo shares the same view."

"The war is over; the future should focus on peaceful development."

"However, I wonder if the Land of Fire has any ideas regarding cultural exchange?"

Their tone was sincere, yet their words carried a probing undertone.

Tanaka Shigeru smiled appreciatively and nodded. "That both Daimyo-sama possess such foresight is truly a blessing for your nations, and also for the entire ninja world."

Before his words finished, he suddenly shifted the topic.

"However, while cultural exchange is important, it cannot be achieved overnight."

"The exchange of art, ideas, and customs requires time, and more importantly, a stable foundation."

"A foundation that allows the populace to prosper and the nobility to rest easy."

The Iwa envoy immediately asked, "May I ask, Lord, what is this foundation?"

"Trade."

Tanaka Shigeru smiled slightly, slowly uttering the word.

He pushed the two cups of tea toward the envoys, his movements calm and deliberate.

"Culture is built upon prosperity."

"If the people are still struggling to survive after the war, and the nobles are anxious about their dwindling wealth, how can we talk about cultural exchange?"

"Arashi-sama's intention is that before cultural exchange begins, our three nations should first engage in basic commercial trade."

"We will exchange what we have, rebuild our economies, and allow everyone to profit from peace."

"Imagine, the silk, tea, and exquisite crafts of the Land of Fire being transported to your nations continuously."

"And your nations' specialties being sold in the Land of Fire at fair prices."

"Allowing everyone to grow wealthy through peace."

"Tell me, isn't that a tremendous good deed?"

The two envoys' eyes lit up instantly.

They had expected difficult conditions, but instead, it was trade.

The Suna envoy quickly asked, "May I ask what the specific terms of this trade are?"

"That depends on what you have," Tanaka Shigeru replied with a smile. "How about this: the two of you return to report to your Daimyo-sama and then draft a trade list."

The two envoys exchanged glances and nodded simultaneously.

"Agreed."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 40: Fatal Misjudgment

Everything Arashi had set in motion was progressing in an orderly manner.

Except for the Hyuga.

This Konoha clan, known for its ocular Ninjutsu, still kept its gates tightly shut, oblivious to all external changes.

Arashi's patience finally ran out.

Inside the Daimyo Manor's study, he held a secret report about the Hyuga Clan's assets between his fingers, his gaze cold.

It seemed the Hyuga were prepared to resist until the very end.

"Gen."

"Your subordinate is here."

The butler immediately responded from the side.

Arashi casually tossed the secret report onto the table and leaned back in his wide chair.

"Send someone to Konoha."

"Tell Minato this."

"I'm giving the Hyuga Clan one last chance."

"The Genius Cultivation Program or the Twelve Guardian Ninja selection."

"Let them choose one of the two."

"Within three days, I want to see the Hyuga Clan's name appear on one of those application lists."

He paused, his tone becoming calm and detached as he issued the ultimatum.

"Otherwise, have the people from the Ministry of Finance and the Ministry of Internal Affairs pay them a visit."

Gen bowed deeply. "Yes, your subordinate will see to it immediately."

...

Konoha Village.

Hokage's Office.

Minato was buried in mountains of scrolls.

Ever since choosing to submit, he had positioned himself purely as an executor, efficiently carrying out the Daimyo's orders.

This saved him a great deal of trouble, but it also left him feeling powerless at times.

Especially when it came to the Hyuga Clan.

Throughout Konoha, from the Advisor Elders to the ordinary shinobi, nearly everyone believed that the reason the Hyuga angered the Daimyo was because they refused to offer a daughter of the main family with the Byakugan.

In their eyes, all of the Daimyo's actions were aimed at forcing the Hyuga to yield and hand over their unique Bloodline Limit.

Even Minato himself had once firmly believed this.

He thought the Daimyo was pressuring the Hyuga in such a way to gain control over that ocular power.

The Genius Cultivation Program and the Twelve Guardian Ninja selection had seemed like little more than intimidation tactics.

Just as he was pondering how to persuade Hiashi again, a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in."

A young man in the uniform of a Daimyo Manor official entered, his face unremarkable.

Minato recognized him at once. He was one of the Daimyo's resident staff stationed in Konoha to convey orders.

"Lord Fourth."

The man bowed slightly, his posture respectful but without a trace of flattery.

"No need for formalities," Minato said, setting down his pen and adopting a serious expression. "Does the Daimyo have new instructions?"

"Yes."

The man wasted no words and directly conveyed Arashi's command.

"The Daimyo ordered me to inform you that the Hyuga Clan must choose between the Genius Cultivation Program and the Twelve Guardian Ninja selection."

"The deadline is three days."

"If there's no response after three days, we will have to trouble Lord Fourth to take action."

Minato was completely stunned. His first reaction wasn't about the harshness of the order, but confusion.

He subconsciously asked, "Only these two choices?"

"What about… the matter of the concubine selection? Did the Daimyo not mention it?"

To him, that question was a given.

Wasn't that the core of the conflict?

As long as the Hyuga were willing to send a girl to the palace, the Daimyo would surely be satisfied, and all problems would be resolved.

He had originally thought this ultimatum would concern that issue.

But now, that most crucial option had been directly removed.

Upon hearing his question, a strange expression appeared on the messenger's face, a mix of amusement and bewilderment.

"Lord Fourth," he said slowly, "I think you have misunderstood the Daimyo."

"The Daimyo has never, from beginning to end, connected the concubine selection with the Genius Cultivation or the Twelve Guardian Ninja."

"'Absolutely no coercion' was clearly written in the Daimyo's edict."

"It seems…"

He paused briefly, then added, "This isn't something so difficult to understand, is it?"

Boom.

The words were light, but they hit Minato's mind like a hammer, shattering the deeply ingrained logic of shinobi politics that had guided his thinking.

A trace of disbelief flickered in his azure eyes.

His thoughts were in chaos as he reexamined everything that had happened.

He remembered that both the Genius Cultivation Program and the Twelve Guardian Ninja had been personally explained to him by the Daimyo.

As for the concubine selection, it had been announced nationwide by the Daimyo Manor, it had never been directed at any specific clan in Konoha.

So that was it… so that was it.

In an instant, all his confusion, assumptions, and self-righteous conclusions collapsed.

He finally understood.

They had been wrong.

From the Third Hokage, to the Advisor Elders, to every family in Konoha, and even himself—every single one of them had been absurdly wrong.

They had treated the least important matter as the most important, while dismissing the Genius Cultivation and Twelve Guardian Ninja programs as mere sideshows.

Coupled with the Uchiha Clan's proactive attitude, this led to a massive misjudgment.

He thought of all those in Konoha who had sent their daughters for the concubine selection, and a self-deprecating smile crossed his face.

It turned out, whether they participated or not, the Daimyo hadn't cared at all.

How laughable.

How absurd.

Minato's cheeks burned.

They had been trapped within the fixed mindset of shinobi, using the logic of Bloodline politics and desires to interpret the Daimyo's grand design.

They had thought the Daimyo was driven by lust, never realizing they hadn't even understood what he truly wanted.

Did the Daimyo care about the Hyuga women? About the Byakugan?

Perhaps.

But that wasn't what mattered.

The concubine selection was an opportunity offered to all.

Yet for the Daimyo, it was dispensable.

If that concubine selection had been a loyalty test, then the Hyuga, with their misplaced pride, had turned in a blank sheet.

They had stubbornly and righteously rejected what they viewed as humiliation.

And then what?

They extended that resistance to the Genius Cultivation and Twelve Guardian Ninja programs.

They thought they had preserved the Hyuga's dignity and the secret of the Byakugan.

But in the Daimyo's eyes, a clan unwilling to show even the most basic gesture of obedience was utterly insignificant.

Why should a disloyal family have its Bloodline merged with the royal line?

The Daimyo hadn't even bothered to force them to offer a woman.

Realizing all this, Minato's back went cold with sweat.

Just barely.

Just barely, Konoha had almost lost a major clan.

He finally understood the true meaning behind the ultimatum.

The Genius Cultivation Program demanded the Hyuga's future.

The Twelve Guardian Ninja demanded their present.

No matter which they chose, the Hyuga had to make a statement—to maintain their arrogance, or pledge allegiance to the Daimyo.

It was a hundred times more brilliant than forcing them to send a woman to the palace.

Because what the Daimyo wanted was never a woman or a pair of eyes.

It was loyalty.

The complete and unconditional submission of this Ninjutsu Clan.

After realizing this, Minato felt from the bottom of his heart that he was unfit to be Hokage.

Compared to the Daimyo, he was truly too naive.

"I understand."

Minato nodded solemnly. "I will convey the Daimyo's will, word for word, to Hiashi."

The messenger nodded, bowed again, and then withdrew.

Only Minato remained in the office.

He gazed out the window at the Hokage Rock, the symbol of Konoha's spirit, silent for a long time.

After a while, he finally let out a quiet sigh.

"Our perspective… it's too far off."

(To be continued.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 41: I Want the World, and You Think I’m Interested in Your Girl?

Daimyo Manor, study.

Arashi listened to the messenger's report, and his expression froze for a moment.

His hand, holding the teacup, stopped midair.

Gen standing by, immediately noticed the sudden silence in the air.

Arashi blinked, his mind moving for a moment before he connected these two unrelated matters.

Then, he felt a sense of absurdity.

An indescribable sense of absurdity almost made him spit out his tea.

"You mean…" Arashi's tone turned a bit strange, "those people from Konoha, including their Fourth Hokage, all thought that my previous pressure on the Hyuga was to make their clan hand over a woman?"

The messenger lowered his head, not daring to reply, but silence itself was an answer.

Arashi was completely speechless and raised his hand to rub his temples.

He remembered very clearly that the edict for concubine selection was issued to the entire Land of Fire.

The true purpose was to take the opportunity to pressure and screen the old nobility, to see who was loyal and who had ulterior motives, and to carry out a power reshuffle.

As for Konoha… what he had prepared for Konoha, from the beginning, were only two choices.

One concerned the future, the Genius Cultivation Program.

The other concerned the present, the Twelve Guardian Ninja.

These two choices were his means to subdue Konoha.

Concubine selection?

That was, at best, a political reality show, meant for mortals to watch.

When had he ever considered this minor matter as a standard for testing Konoha's loyalty?

Did he need to use such a low method to covet a pair of Byakugan?

Ridiculous.

Now it seemed that the Uchiha Clan's overzealous attitude was probably the beginning of this huge misunderstanding.

They moved, the Hyuga moved, other clans followed, and as a result, the entire Konoha was plunged into a strange atmosphere where the Daimyo wanted to snatch the beauties of the ninja world.

Thinking of this, Arashi could not help but laugh out loud.

"Haha…"

The laughter was not loud, but it made Gen and the messenger feel their scalps tingle.

"It seems I overestimated them."

Arashi muttered to himself, his tone tinged with helpless self-mockery.

"I thought they really had backbone, but I did not expect their thinking to still be in the primitive stage of snatching people and territories."

Ninja were ninja after all.

Their worldview was firmly confined by Bloodline Limits, Ninjutsu, and clan legacy.

It was indeed a bit difficult for them to understand higher-level political games.

In the future, when issuing edicts, the wording must be rigorous, every word must be broken down and explained clearly, and there must be no phrases that could cause misunderstanding.

Arashi reflected on himself.

Although this misunderstanding was harmless, and he even got to watch a good show, it did slow down the progress of the plan.

He did not like this feeling of inefficiency.

"Never mind."

He waved his hand, regaining his regal demeanor. "Go back and tell Minato to relay my exact words to the Hyuga, word for word."

"Tell them to stop pondering over useless things."

"I am not interested in watching their tragic drama. I only want to see results."

"Yes, Daimyo-sama."

The messenger bowed and withdrew as if granted a great pardon.

Arashi picked up his teacup and took a light sip, his gaze deep.

A bunch of fools…

Hyuga Clan residence.

The atmosphere was oppressive.

Hiashi knelt in the main seat, his eyes bloodshot.

Several elders of the main family sat on either side, all with solemn expressions.

When Minato stepped into the room, everyone inside looked at him.

"Hokage-sama."

Hiashi's voice carried the resolute tone of someone who had given up.

"If you are still here for that matter, then please leave."

He thought this was the final ultimatum sent by the Daimyo Manor.

However, Minato simply looked at him silently, his expression complicated, carrying both sympathy and embarrassment.

"Hiashi," Minato said, "I am not here for the concubine selection."

Hiashi's tone was still stiff. "Then Fourth Hokage, what are you here for?"

Minato ignored Hiashi's bold declaration and stated the Daimyo's original intention.

He finally added, "If the Daimyo Manor does not receive your reply within three days…"

"Officials from the Ministry of Finance and the Ministry of Internal Affairs will personally visit."

As his words fell, the room went silent.

Everyone was stunned.

They had anticipated countless possibilities, coercion, inducement, or even direct military encirclement.

But they had never expected such a message.

Hiashi's mouth opened slightly, and he subconsciously asked, "Just… this?"

"What about the concubine selection?" an elder could not help but press. "Hokage-sama… no longer wants our clan's Byakugan?"

This question immediately made Minato's expression turn strange.

He looked at the Hyuga, who were on high alert, and finally let out a long sigh.

"I think we all got it wrong."

Minato said somewhat helplessly, "From beginning to end, Daimyo-sama never linked the concubine selection with your Hyuga Clan."

"He does not care whether you send someone or not, and he certainly does not care about your Byakugan."

"That edict was for the whole country to see."

"Whether Konoha participates or not is simply not important to him."

Uh…

The Hyuga present felt a buzzing in their heads, speechless and choked.

Hiashi's face, taut with resolve, instantly froze.

What… did he say?

Does not care about the Byakugan?

Not important?

Then their struggle, which they had staked the lives of their entire clan on… their Bloodline Limit, which they wanted to protect at all costs… the clan-annihilation crisis that kept them awake at night… he said it was all a misunderstanding?

Hiashi's head buzzed, and the world spun.

Immediately after, what surged in his heart was not humiliation, but a burst of ecstasy.

The sword hanging over the Hyuga's head just… disappeared?

No.

That sword had never existed from beginning to end.

All this time, they had been scaring themselves.

This relief was so intense that Hiashi's tense muscles instantly relaxed, and cold sweat soaked his clothes.

But what followed was endless fear and shame.

He had almost, because of a foolish misunderstanding, personally buried the entire Hyuga Clan.

Hyuga's proud insight, that caution ingrained in their bones, now became a joke.

The Daimyo had never even coveted their Byakugan.

And they, for this, had almost sacrificed everything.

Just thinking about how his misjudgment had almost led them to a dead end, Hiashi's knees went weak.

His usually dignified face was now pale and ashamed.

He finally understood.

The Genius Cultivation Program… the Twelve Guardian Ninja… these were what the Daimyo truly wanted.

He did not want a woman, or a pair of eyes.

He wanted the Hyuga's unreserved loyalty.

That afternoon, Hiashi sent two lists to the Hokage's office.

One was the application for the Hyuga's Genius Cultivation Program, on which were prominently written the names of almost all the younger generation of Hyuga.

If he had children already, and if his brother's children were older, he would have wanted to include them as well.

The other was the candidate list for the Twelve Guardian Ninja, on which Hiashi had written his brother's name, Hyuga Hizashi.

The Hyuga Clan, with the most thorough gesture, offered their loyalty.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 42: The Monarch

The news of the Hyuga's retreat spread like wildfire throughout Konoha.

The Uchiha were the first to be taken aback.

Deep within the clan grounds, Mikoto had just finished a rigorous etiquette training session and was reporting her progress to her husband, the Clan Head.

When she heard the news he brought back, her mind went blank for a moment.

"So, Daimyo-sama never intended to force the Hyuga from the start?"

"Yes, it was us… we misunderstood."

Fugaku's expression was dazed for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "But it does not matter."

His eyes became resolute again, filled with undisguised ambition.

"Even if this was a misunderstanding, our choice will not change."

"Whether the Daimyo cares or not is not important."

"Before, we had no choice, we could only follow Konoha."

"Now, we must seize this opportunity to let the Daimyo see our loyalty and value."

"As long as we seize this opportunity, our Uchiha will soar."

He looked at Mikoto, his tone allowing no room for argument.

"Continue the training."

"Since those idiots from Hyuga backed down, we Uchiha must do this perfectly."

"For the Uchiha."

Mikoto always harbored a worry about such an extreme gamble.

But her husband's resolve made her suppress her anxiety, and she nodded solemnly. "Alright. For the Uchiha."

For them, the twists and turns of the process were meaningless.

As long as the Uchiha bloodline could truly integrate into the power core of the Land of Fire.

Even if this was just self-serving flattery, they would see it through.

Compared to the Uchiha's attitude of making the best of a bad situation, the atmosphere within the Ino–Shika–Chō clan grounds was much heavier.

Inside the house, Shikaku stared at the intelligence report in his hand, completely stunned.

Inoichi and Choza sat opposite him, their expressions equally dramatic.

After a long time, Shikaku finally let out a long breath, and his entire body slumped.

He looked dejected, his face showing self-contempt.

"We were all wrong."

"Terribly wrong."

As Konoha's recognized strategist, Shikaku was accustomed to calculating everything, accustomed to exchanging the greatest benefit for the smallest cost.

But this time, his proud mind played a fatal joke on him.

"I have been analyzing the Daimyo's motives, thinking he was using both soft and hard tactics to covet our Bloodline Limits, to create division within Konoha."

He gave a bitter laugh, pressing his throbbing forehead.

"Now it seems…"

"Our perspective was too small."

Inoichi swallowed hard and spoke with difficulty. "You mean, the Daimyo… did not even care about our bloodline?"

"It is not that he did not care."

Shikaku shook his head. "Rather, from the beginning, the Daimyo never wanted it."

"We were considering the gains and losses of one village and one clan, how to protect our own secret techniques and legacy."

"But the Daimyo was considering the entire Land of Fire, how to hold Konoha in his hand."

"The concubine selection was just a stone he threw to test the waters."

"Our waiting and watching was just being clever for our own good."

Hearing Shikaku's analysis, Choza broke out in a cold sweat and said with lingering fear, "Fortunately… fortunately, the Hyuga took this blow for us."

"If the Daimyo's ultimatum had been sent to our three clans…"

The consequences would have been unimaginable.

The Ino–Shika–Chō alliance was strong, but in the face of the Daimyo Manor's swift and decisive actions, how many more days could they have lasted than the Hyuga?

"We cannot wait any longer."

Shikaku slammed the table and stood up abruptly.

He made a decisive move.

"Inoichi, Choza, go back and select people immediately."

"The Genius Cultivation Program, the Twelve Guardian Ninja, we must participate in both. We must select the most outstanding juniors and clan members."

"Immediately."

"Right now."

He emphasized his words, his expression extremely serious.

"We absolutely cannot become the next clan to be singled out by the Daimyo."

"This time, not only must we participate, we must do it brilliantly."

…

On this day, not just the Ino–Shika–Chō.

All the clans in Konoha who were still watching began to move frantically.

Hokage Building, advisors' office.

The atmosphere was equally heavy.

Hiruzen silently puffed on his pipe, the smoke rising and obscuring his aged face.

Koharu and Homura sat opposite him, both with expressions of emotion and melancholy.

"We are all old."

Finally, Homura broke the silence, his voice desolate.

"Our thinking is still stuck in the era when the village was first established. We always feel that the Bloodline Limit is the most important foundation of a clan."

"To protect it, we would stop at nothing."

Koharu pushed up her glasses, her gaze behind the lenses complex.

"Yes, we always thought this new Daimyo coveted beauty and power."

"We did not expect that what he wanted was loyalty."

"That is all."

"And we are citizens of the Land of Fire. Giving loyalty is only right and proper."

Hiruzen exhaled a smoke ring and slowly said, "Danzō said before he died that this Daimyo was more evil than the Uchiha…"

"Now it seems, Danzō understood some things, but not completely."

"He is not evil."

"He is a monarch."

"A true monarch who views the entire country as his chessboard."

"And we ninja, our proud village and clans, are merely pawns on his chessboard."

He looked at the carved faces of the successive Hokage outside the window, his eyes dim.

"With such a Daimyo, the era of the Hokage…"

"Is truly over."

…

When Konoha's major clans threw themselves into the two programs launched by the Daimyo Manor with unprecedented enthusiasm, a corner of the village remained lifeless.

The Shimura clan grounds.

There was no bustling activity like in the Uchiha grounds, nor the solemn dignity of the Hyuga main branch.

Only desolation and decay.

The weeds in the courtyard were untrimmed, and the doors and windows of many houses looked old.

Every clan member walking within the grounds wore a gloomy and fearful expression.

Danzō's death was both a relief and a disaster for the entire Shimura clan.

While he was alive, he was Konoha's Root, a blade in the darkness, wielding immense power.

Yet he was extremely harsh on his own clan.

He treated the Shimura as his private source of soldiers and treasury, constantly siphoning off the most outstanding young ninja to send into Root.

He even continuously poured the profits from the clan's industries into Root.

For decades, the Sarutobi, Utatane, and Mitokado clans all flourished due to their close relationship with the Hokage.

Only the Shimura, far from growing, gradually withered.

Now, Danzō had been executed for treason, his corpse displayed in the city.

The Shimura name in Konoha had become synonymous with "criminal."

Inside the council hall, three white-haired elders sat opposite each other, their faces filled with gloom.

They were the Shimura's only remaining elders.

"Outside… what is it like?" asked Shimura Ken, the leading elder.

"All the clans have gone mad," another elder replied bitterly. "The Genius Cultivation Program, the Twelve Guardian Ninja… I heard that the Uchiha and Hyuga submitted lists of their most core disciples."

"Even the Ino–Shika–Chō had their three Clan Heads personally lead the selection, afraid of falling even half a step behind."

Silence once again fell upon the council hall.

For other clans, it was a celebration.

For their clan, it was the end of days.

"Do we… still have a chance?" a younger clan member could not help but ask, his voice full of unwillingness.

No one could answer that question.

Danzō had committed the grave crime of regicide and rebellion.

That the Daimyo had not executed the entire Shimura clan was already an act of mercy.

To still want an opportunity?

It was simply wishful thinking.

"How will we know if we do not try?"

After a long moment, Elder Shimura Ken slowly stood up, a resolute look appearing on his aged face.

"The crime Danzō committed was his alone."

"Our Shimura have been loyal to the Land of Fire for generations. This has never changed."

"We cannot just sit here and wait for death."

He looked at everyone, his gaze becoming sharp.

"Prepare a small gift. I want to see the Fourth Hokage-sama."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 43: Trade Finalized

Hokage's Office.

Minato looked at Shimura Ken in front of him, then at the list he presented, his brow slightly furrowed.

On the list were the names of all eligible young shinobi of the Shimura, twenty-seven in total.

Next to each name, four characters were marked in vermillion ink, "At your disposal."

"Elder Ken, what is the meaning of this?" Minato's voice betrayed no emotion.

Shimura Ken's posture was very humble.

"Hokage-sama, Danzō… his sins are monstrous. He has brought indelible shame upon our clan."

"But the loyalty of the rest of the Shimura to the Land of Fire and to Daimyo-sama has never wavered."

"We… we, the Shimura, also wish to serve Daimyo-sama."

He suddenly looked up, his cloudy old eyes abruptly becoming sharp.

"Is there still a path for the descendants of a criminal to serve the country?"

"We beg Hokage-sama to show us a clear way."

Minato fell silent.

He looked at the old man, his thoughts churning.

The Daimyo had not issued any orders specifically targeting the Shimura.

But this silence was like a blade that could fall at any moment, making the entire Shimura live in constant dread.

Now, they could no longer bear it.

Minato was inclined to agree, for he was not blind. Everyone in Konoha knew what kind of life the Shimura led when Danzō was alive.

However, he could not make the decision on this matter.

"I will report your intentions truthfully to Daimyo-sama."

"As for whether Daimyo-sama is willing to give you a chance, I cannot guarantee it."

"Thank you, Hokage-sama. Thank you, Hokage-sama." Even a vague answer gave Shimura Ken hope.

He bowed respectfully, performed a deep salute, then tremblingly withdrew.

Watching Shimura Ken's hunched back, Minato picked up the weighty list with a sigh.

Once upon a time, the Shimura were also a prominent clan in Konoha. When had they ever been so humble?

He organized this application, along with the lists from other clans, and sent someone to deliver them to the Fire Capital at the fastest possible speed.

The fate of the Shimura would be decided by that monarch with a single word.

Meanwhile, far away in the Fire Capital, negotiations were underway.

Daimyo Manor, Auxiliary Hall for Political Affairs.

The hall was warm as spring.

But the atmosphere was tense.

Finance Minister Tanaka Shigeru wore a slight smile.

Across from him were the negotiating representatives from Iwa and Suna.

Iwa's envoy was a solidly built middle-aged man, but his face looked haggard.

Clearly, these seven days of negotiations had consumed a great deal of his energy.

He pointed to the draft trade agreement, which had been revised over twenty times, and said in a hoarse voice, "Lord Tanaka, we have felt the sincerity of the Land of Fire."

"We are very grateful that the Land of Fire is willing to open exports of white sugar, silk, and refined sea salt."

"However…"

He changed his tone, pointing to one of the clauses in the draft.

"Regarding the establishment of a trade transit station on the border of the three countries, led by the Land of Fire in construction, with Iwa and Suna jointly funding it…"

"This point, we cannot accept."

Beside him, Suna's envoy also nodded in agreement, his eyes narrowed, flickering with the unique vigilance and cunning of a desert people.

"Exactly."

"Trade should be free, with merchants carrying goods and traveling between their respective towns."

"Why must a fixed trade station be established?"

"This sounds less like trade."

"It sounds more like building a military fortress for the Land of Fire on the border."

This accusation was as sharp as a blade.

Tanaka's smile remained unchanged.

Instead, a young man beside him stood up.

The young man was barely in his early twenties, with a handsome face, and his brand-new official uniform made his posture appear upright.

Facing the envoys of the two countries, he was as steady as a mountain.

This man was Asaba Toru, a trusted confidant who had followed Arashi throughout his rise.

He bowed slightly, then spoke in a clear voice, neither humble nor arrogant.

"Sirs, I believe you have misunderstood."

"The reason for proposing the establishment of a trade transit station is not to restrict freedom. On the contrary, it is to ensure the freedom and safety of traveling merchants."

He analyzed issues such as banditry on the border, trade route security, and tariff barriers one by one.

He also compared the long-term expenditure of issuing missions with the one-time investment of establishing a transit station.

In his words, he painted a blueprint of efficiency, safety, and mutual benefit.

His words were watertight.

However, the envoys of the two countries were clearly well-versed in this and did not fall for it.

"Easy to say."

Suna's envoy snorted coldly, placing his teacup down heavily. "Young man, your eloquence is good. But we are discussing national interests, not empty promises."

Iwa's envoy added, "Construction led by the Land of Fire is inherently unfair."

"By then, whether the trade station contains shops or barracks will probably not be up to us to decide."

"We cannot accept this proposal."

The negotiations instantly reached a stalemate.

The air seemed to solidify, and Asaba's brow furrowed slightly.

Just then, Tanaka who had been silent, finally spoke. "Envoys, please do not get angry."

He looked at Asaba, feigning reproach.

"Asaba, your idea is good. It is for the common prosperity of our three countries."

"But you are still too young. When considering issues, you cannot only approach them from the perspective of our Land of Fire. You must also understand the concerns of the two envoys."

These words sounded like criticism, but they also eased the tense atmosphere.

The expressions of the two envoys improved somewhat.

Tanaka then continued, "Since you both have doubts about this point, then… why do we not both take a step back?"

"The trade station still needs to be built. For everyone's safety and interests, this point cannot be shaken."

"However, the method of construction can be changed."

Looking at the surprised and uncertain gazes of the two envoys, Tanaka presented his plan.

"How about this, the construction of the trade station will be jointly supervised by representatives from our three countries. The number of garrison shinobi must also be completely equal. No one can have more, and no one can have less."

He paused, looking at the increasingly serious envoys, and continued to add weight to his proposal. "Furthermore, the highest administrative officer of the trade station will not be appointed by any one country. Rather, a management committee composed of representatives from our three countries will jointly manage the trade station."

"In this way, it will be open and transparent, with equal power. You two should be reassured, right?"

In the secret room just a wall away.

Arashi observed with interest through the specially made one-way crystal.

Excellent.

This good cop, bad cop routine was perfectly executed.

First, throw out harsh conditions to test the bottom line and draw fire.

When the other side strongly reacts and negotiations reach a stalemate, then voluntarily make concessions and propose a plan that has already been prepared.

This will give the opponents the illusion that it was their strenuous struggle that forced the other side to make concessions.

Indeed, the older ginger is spicier.

As expected.

In the auxiliary hall, after a brief moment of stunned surprise, the eyes of the two envoys immediately showed delight.

Joint supervision, equal shinobi numbers, joint management.

Was this not the most ideal plan they had in mind?

Unexpectedly, it was proposed by the Land of Fire itself.

Iwa's envoy said with unconcealed excitement, "Is this true?"

"Naturally, it is true."

Tanaka acted righteously, waving his hand. "For peace, for the lasting friendship of our three countries, what are a few gains and losses. Our Land of Fire concedes."

"Good."

Iwa's envoy slapped his thigh. "Lord Tanaka is highly principled. On behalf of Iwa, I agree."

Suna's envoy also nodded repeatedly. "Our Suna also agrees."

Next, naturally, the representatives of the three parties signed the trade agreement.

A seven-day trade negotiation concluded in an atmosphere of universal joy.

Arashi contentedly put down his teacup and stood up, preparing to leave.

Just then, Gen suddenly entered and whispered in his ear, "My Lord, the Fourth Hokage's proposal just arrived."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 44: Doomsday Journey

Daimyo Manor, study.

Arashi sat at the table.

A top-secret report, urgently sent by Minato, lay open before him.

The report meticulously detailed the reactions of various Konoha clans to the two plans.

The Uchiha were fanatical.

The Ino–Shika–Chō were vigilant.

The Hyuga were submissive.

Everything was as expected.

As long as the correct instructions were given, these ninja reactions were clearly predictable.

Then, his gaze fell on the end of the dossier.

It recorded the situation of the Shimura clan.

Arashi had not really decided how to deal with this clan.

Perhaps Danzō's death had put pressure on them.

Looking at the words "at your disposal" on the list, Arashi could not help but smile.

There was one more sentence at the end of the dossier.

""Is there still a path for the descendants of a criminal to serve the country?"

This made the amusement in Arashi's eyes grow even deeper.

Interesting.

Those pushed to a dead end, it seemed, could see their place more clearly than those affluent clans who had enjoyed smooth sailing.

Gen beside him noticed his lord's change in mood and immediately lowered his head, softening his breathing.

Whenever the lord showed such an expression, it meant that someone's fate was about to be rewritten.

"Gen."

"Your servant is here."

"Tell me, how should I deal with them?"

"Your servant is dull-witted and dares not speak rashly."

"Speak when I tell you to, I pardon you of any offense."

Gen dared not delay and quickly said, "Replying to my lord, according to the law, although the principal offender of treason has been executed, his clan should also have its titles stripped, its property confiscated, be demoted to commoners, and be permanently barred from employment."

A very standard answer.

"Demoted to commoners?"

Arashi thought for a moment, then shook his head. "That is too wasteful."

Cultivating a ninja required many resources, let alone a ninja clan.

He walked to the giant ninja world map, his gaze lingering on the Land of Fire region for a moment.

A concept had already formed.

If the Anbu were to be the eyes, then someone needed to be the blade.

He could not let the Anbu be both eyes and blade, otherwise it would easily become too powerful to control.

The Shimura, these ninja burdened with sins and stripped of their future, were undoubtedly the best materials to be a blade.

He would not tell anyone this idea.

After all, if a ruler is not discreet, he loses his ministers.

Thinking of this, Arashi walked back to the desk, picked up his calligraphy brush, and took a blank scroll.

The brush tip fell, with only a few words.

He sealed the scroll and handed it to an Anbu nearby.

"Send someone to Konoha, give it to Minato, and have him personally read it to the Shimura."

The Anbu took the scroll, and his figure vanished.

From beginning to end, Arashi did not explain a single word to Gen.

…

Konoha, Hokage's Office.

Minato slowly unrolled the Daimyo's letter.

The content on it made him completely stunned.

The entire letter contained only one sentence, "The entire Shimura clan is hereby ordered to depart within three days for the Fire Capital, to await judgment."

There was no reprimand.

No disposition plan.

Only this one sentence.

Await judgment?

Was this to execute the entire clan as a warning to others?

Or was there another purpose?

Minato could not completely guess the young lord's thoughts.

Forget it, he would not think about it anymore.

He just needed to be a messenger. Thinking too much was useless.

He quickly composed himself and had Anbu summon Shimura Ken.

Soon, Shimura Ken was brought in.

The old man looked uneasy, with hope in his eyes. "Hokage-sama, Daimyo-sama, he…"

Minato did not speak. He just pushed the Daimyo's letter in front of him.

Shimura Ken took the scroll with trembling hands.

When he saw the sentence on it, his aged body swayed violently, and his face instantly drained of color.

Go to the Fire Capital… await judgment… It was over.

Everything was over.

The last shred of luck, the last glimmer of hope, was completely crushed at this moment.

He seemed to already see the men, women, old, and young of his clan being beheaded in the execution ground of the Fire Capital.

"Thud."

The scroll in Shimura Ken's hand slipped, his cloudy old eyes filled only with despair. "Hokage-sama…"

"Is there… no other way?"

He stammered, his voice like a murmur.

Minato watched him in silence, finally only able to shake his head gently.

The light in Shimura Ken's eyes was completely extinguished.

He did not wail or beg for mercy. Supported by his clansmen, he left the Hokage Building.

He looked like a walking corpse.

After the news spread back, the entire clan was instantly shrouded in despair.

No wailing.

No cursing.

Only an extreme, suppressed silence.

A young ninja suddenly drew a kunai, seemingly wanting to end his life.

But his father beside him slapped the kunai away.

"If we go, we go as an entire clan," the father roared hoarsely.

They knew that in the face of absolute power, any struggle was futile.

That afternoon, the Shimura began selling off their property.

They did not choose to flee.

Instead, they exchanged all their valuables for dry rations and clean water.

Because they knew countless eyes outside were staring intently at them.

The only thing they could do was pack their belongings, take their women and children, and embark on this journey toward death.

Three days later.

Just as dawn broke.

A procession of over three hundred people silently walked out of the Konoha gate.

In the procession, there were ninja, ordinary people, old folks, and even infants still in swaddling clothes.

Everyone's face was ashen.

This was a procession heading to the execution ground.

On the official road leading to the Fire Capital, the procession moved slowly forward.

The atmosphere was so oppressive it was suffocating.

No one spoke.

Only the heavy footsteps and the sound of cartwheels grinding over dust.

The occasional cry of an infant gradually subsided under the mother's soothing.

They were the entire Shimura clan.

At the very front of the procession was the white-haired Shimura Ken.

He wore a brand-new plain white robe, and his usually straight back was now hunched.

Every step he took was incredibly heavy.

Because he was leading his entire clan toward an unknown, but very likely destructive, end.

The clansmen behind him had vacant eyes.

Fear had long been worn away by the long journey, leaving only the numbness of resignation.

Finally, the majestic city walls of the Fire Capital appeared on the horizon.

Upon entering the city gate, the guards checked their documents and waved them through.

Once inside the city, they were stopped by an official.

"The Shimura clan?"

"Yes, sir."

"Daimyo-sama has ordered. Follow me."

The official spoke, then led them through the bustling streets.

They were not taken to the administrative office where criminals were judged.

Nor was it the prison where offenders were held.

Ultimately, they were led to a spacious training ground on the outskirts of the city.

The training ground had high walls on all sides, and the only entrance was a heavy iron gate.

When the last Shimura clansman walked into the training ground,

"Boom."

The iron gate slammed shut behind them, cutting off everything inside and out.

A tremor came from the ground, startling a baby into wailing, its mouth quickly covered by its mother, leaving only whimpers.

Everyone's body stiffened.

Their last retreat was completely cut off.

They huddled together, over three hundred people, confined in this empty space, awaiting an unknown judgment.

Time passed bit by bit.

The sun overhead grew fiercer, sweat drenched their clothes, but no one dared to move.

After an unknown period, a small door on the other side of the training ground creaked open.

The door was pushed open.

A figure walked in, silhouetted against the light.

He wore a simple black everyday robe, without any ornaments, his steps unhurried.

But the moment he appeared, the entire training ground fell silent.

The man slowly walked to the center of the field and stopped.

He did not speak, just calmly scanned everyone present, his handsome face devoid of any expression.

An indescribable pressure descended upon them.

Wherever his gaze swept, the Shimura lowered their heads, their breathing becoming cautious.

His dignified presence made it impossible to look directly at him.

It was him.

The Daimyo of the Land of Fire, Chiba Arashi.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 45: The Black Wind Rises

"Thump."

When Arashi's figure appeared, Shimura Ken could no longer support himself. His knees buckled, and he fell heavily to the ground.

Behind him, hundreds of Shimura clansmen knelt in unison, burying their heads deep in the dirt.

Among the crowd, young mothers desperately covered their children's mouths, fearing they might make a sound.

They wept silently, their bodies trembling uncontrollably.

Beside them, a newly adult ninja clenched his fists, his fingernails piercing his palms, oblivious to the blood flowing out.

That face, which should have been full of youthful vigor, was now only filled with humiliation and despair.

No one dared to look up.

No one dared to speak.

The entire training ground was deathly silent, with only the wailing of the wind.

Arashi slowly walked down from the high platform, his boots crunching on the gravel.

He stopped in front of Shimura Ken.

He looked down at the old man prostrate on the ground.

"Shimura Ken."

"The sinner is here."

"Raise your head."

Shimura Ken dared not disobey, slowly raising his face, which was filled with despair and fear.

But he did not dare to look directly at the other party.

"Does your Shimura know its crime?" Arashi asked indifferently.

Shimura Ken's lips trembled, each word incredibly difficult to utter. "The sinner… knows his crime. Danzō was treasonous and deserves death ten thousand times over. My Shimura failed in its discipline and is unforgivable. Please, Daimyo-sama… mete out punishment."

After speaking, he closed his eyes, awaiting the death sentence.

Arashi's gaze passed over him, slowly sweeping across the ashen-faced Shimura clansmen.

"The crime is Danzō's alone."

He spoke slowly, his voice not loud, yet it clearly reached everyone's ears.

What?

All the prostrate bodies trembled violently, and countless people instinctively raised their heads, their faces full of disbelief.

What did this mean? Could it be… could they still have a way to live?

"But the shame is your entire clan's."

This turning point shattered the glimmer of hope that had just risen within them.

"The Shimura name, from today onward, will no longer be an honor, but a joke."

"A brand of shame etched on each of you, and even on your descendants."

"It will remind everyone that your clan produced a traitor to the Land of Fire."

"Tell me, bearing such shame, how do you intend to live on?"

Arashi's tone held no trace of mockery, yet it was more heart-wrenching than any insult.

He calmly pronounced their social death.

"Daimyo-sama."

Shimura Ken suddenly roared, slamming his head against the ground with a dull thud, blood instantly flowing.

"We… we are willing to be slaves, to be servants."

"We are willing to toil like oxen and horses for Daimyo-sama, to reclaim barren land, to build city walls. We only ask, Daimyo-sama… we only ask that you grant the children a path to survival."

He cried out desperately.

At this moment, dignity had no meaning.

All they had left was this humble body and that tiny glimmer of hope to continue their bloodline.

"A path to survival?"

Arashi looked at him. "Do you only wish to live like livestock?"

"I thought a ninja's bones would be harder."

He shook his head, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

Just as everyone thought hope was lost, Arashi's voice suddenly rose, reverberating throughout the entire grounds.

"I give you a choice."

The entire place fell silent, everyone's breathing pausing in that moment.

"The first path, I revoke your status as ninja, demote you to commoners, and exile you to the frontier."

"You can live, but the shame brought by the Shimura name will accompany you for generations, until your bloodline is severed."

"The second path…"

He paused, his sharp gaze sweeping over everyone.

"Bury your past, forget your names."

"I will grant you a new identity, a new mission."

"You will delve into the darkness, becoming the sharpest claws of the Land of Fire."

"You will execute the dirtiest missions. Your names will never be recorded in history, your achievements will remain unknown."

"You will live for me, die for me. Your lives, your souls, belong only to me."

These words were filled with blood and cruelty, yet they rekindled a faint light in the eyes of some young ninja.

Rather than die in shame, better to perish in battle.

"In return…"

Arashi's gaze fell upon the children protected behind their parents.

"Your children will no longer have to bear this shame."

"They will, with new identities, enter the best ninja schools in the Land of Fire, receive the most excellent teachers, the most abundant resources, and the strongest yet harshest training."

"They will become the sharpest swords in my hand, to earn their own glory, and let their names resound throughout the ninja world."

"Now, make your choice."

Arashi's voice returned to calm, yet it contained an irresistible power.

"To cling to life in shame, never to rise again?"

"Or to burn yourselves out in the darkness, to exchange for a bright future for your descendants?"

Silence.

Within the training ground, a pin drop could be heard.

Everyone was stunned by these words, their hearts pounding.

They… still had a choice?

And one of the options was to exchange for a future for their descendants?

The mother holding her child suddenly looked up, her eyes brimming with tears.

The young ninja who had clenched his fists began to tremble uncontrollably, not from fear, but from an unspeakable excitement.

Immense euphoria overwhelmed everyone's reason.

This was not a judgment.

This was a gift.

It was salvation.

It was this great monarch, in their most desperate hour, granting them a glimmer of hope, a path of atonement paved with blood and life.

Shimura Ken was the first to react. He was incoherent with excitement, his entire being coming back to life.

"Your subordinate chooses the second path. Your subordinate is willing to die for Daimyo-sama."

His roar ignited the entire grounds.

"Willing to die for Daimyo-sama."

A shout like a mountain and a tsunami erupted from hundreds of mouths.

The young mother placed her child beside her, bowing deeply, her forehead leaving a bloody mark.

The young ninja knelt, shouting, his voice hoarse, but with unprecedented fervor.

The shouts converged into a fervent wave of sound, soaring into the sky, making the entire training ground hum.

There was no more fear or despair, only endless fervor, gratitude, and a yearning for the future.

Arashi watched all of this with satisfaction.

What he wanted was precisely a group of warriors willing to sacrifice everything for hope.

"Very good."

"From this day forward, there is no more Shimura in the world."

"You shall be called the Kurokaze Clan."

At this moment, a ninja clan that had existed for hundreds of years, along with its glory and its sins, was completely buried.

In its place was a new ninja clan, hidden in the shadows, ready at any moment to draw its blade for its monarch.

(To be continued.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 46: Beauty Bows

At the Daimyo Manor, in the study.

Arashi finished reviewing the last petition.

With a stroke of his vermilion brush, he signed both the Genius Training List and the Twelve Guardian Ninja list submitted by Minato.

As the signatures were completed, the future of Konoha was firmly within his grasp.

He set down the brush, leaned back in his chair, and lightly tapped his fingertips against the wooden armrest.

Unconsciously, whenever Arashi was deep in thought, he would make this gesture.

His mind drifted back to three days ago, to the Shimura Clan members who had knelt before him, to whom he had bestowed the name Kurokaze.

He had given them new life, turning them into his fangs.

"Disguise yourselves as rogue ninja and head to the border between the Land of Fire and the Land of Lightning," he had instructed.

"Act as bandits. Only plunder trade caravans from the Land of Lightning."

"Remember, not too often. I want the border trade routes of the Land of Lightning to be in a state of chronic blood loss, but not immediately fatal."

That was the first mission he had given them.

These directives would slowly eat away at the Land of Lightning, piece by piece.

A dormant chess piece had been placed.

Now, it was time to enjoy another game.

"Gen," Arashi called.

The butler, who had been standing nearby, quickly stepped forward and bowed, awaiting orders.

"Have the Department of Internal Affairs select an official to go to Konoha and disburse the funds," Arashi said. "The ceremony must be grand, and he must personally hand them out."

Gen bowed deeply. "Yes, my lord."

"Also, have the Twelve Guardian Ninja come here as soon as possible."

"As you command, my lord."

Having dealt with these matters, Arashi stood up and stretched, his joints cracking in a series of crisp sounds.

Outside the door, the etiquette officer in charge of the Internal Affairs Department had been waiting for a long time.

When summoned, he quickly entered and knelt to report.

"Reporting, my lord, the initial selection for the concubine candidates has been completed. There are a total of thirty-six qualified women."

"Today is their first day of palace training. Would you like to observe?"

Arashi's interest was immediately piqued.

Now that official business was done, it was time to relax. It was a good chance to see if there were any women who caught his eye.

"Lead the way."

...A secluded courtyard.

This place was temporarily being used as a training ground, isolated from the bustling areas of the manor. The air was filled with the scent of pine.

Arashi walked up to the second-floor corridor and sat in the main seat.

From here, his view was expansive, allowing him to observe everything in the courtyard below.

He could have appeared openly, enjoying their expressions of fear, awe, and devotion.

But that would have been too dull.

Rather than watching a performance meticulously choreographed for him, it was better to observe from afar.

What he wanted to see was not what they had learned, but their genuine reactions.

The maid understood, bringing him clear tea and setting up a gauze screen in front of him.

The screen blocked outside gazes, but it couldn't block his sharp scrutiny.

He lifted the teacup, his eyes cold and focused, watching the thirty-six "collectibles" below with great interest.

These women, from all over the Land of Fire, stood stiffly in several rows.

Each had changed into her finest clothes, faces devoid of makeup, showing their truest selves.

All were exceptionally beautiful.

There were noble young ladies of high birth and elegant bearing.

There were modest civilian girls who stood nervously among them.

And naturally, a few special "prey" were mixed in.

Mei stood among the crowd, her gaze lowered.

Her soft long dress had replaced her Hidden Mist combat attire.

Her delicate hands, once accustomed to holding kunai, now clasped helplessly before her.

She could feel many eyes on her, filled with scrutiny and hostility.

Especially from the young woman standing not far away.

That woman had long black hair, exquisite features, and wore the fan-shaped crest of the Uchiha Clan, identifying her as Uchiha Ragyō.

Ragyō's gaze swept indifferently over Mei, then moved away.

In her eyes, everyone here was nothing more than a stepping stone for her to become the Daimyo's concubine, and eventually the mother of the nation.

On the other side, Kurenai looked completely out of place.

She was unlike the others, who were either nervous or ambitious.

Her face showed only confusion and resistance.

Her father had roughly pulled her out of her ninja career and thrust her into this gilded cage.

To this day, she still didn't understand why her life had changed so drastically.

At that moment, an old woman with white hair and a ruler in her hand slowly walked into the courtyard.

She was the strictest female official in the palace; even the concubines of the previous Daimyo had been trained by her.

"From today onward, forget your past," the old woman said, her voice dry and sharp, grating on everyone's ears.

"Here, you have no names, only one identity: concubine candidate."

"For the next month, you will learn palace etiquette. Every word, every movement, every frown, every smile, must conform to the rules."

"First lesson: how to kneel."

"Kneeling is not prostrating. It is using your knees to feel the majesty of your sovereign."

She demonstrated, every movement as precise as if measured with a ruler.

"Knees together."

"Lower yourself slowly."

"Keep your upper body straight, hands placed on your knees."

"Head slightly bowed, to show respect."

"Now, repeat my actions. Begin."

At her command, the women in the courtyard all bent their knees.

Arashi watched them with great interest.

What a fascinating performance.

Down below, the old woman barked sharply, "You! As a noblewoman, your posture is improper, your legs are wide open. Are you trying to invite someone?!"

The ruler sliced through the air with a loud crack, striking the ground in front of a noblewoman.

Her face went pale, her body trembling uncontrollably.

The old woman's gaze shifted to another. "And you! Lift your waist! The Daimyo Manor doesn't need fawning servants, it needs women who can serve the sovereign properly!"

She knew her limits well. Her reprimands were harsh, but she would never leave scars.

Because among these women, a future concubine of the Daimyo might emerge.

Her strictness was an act, meant to instill discipline.

And discipline was the fastest way to smooth rough edges, more effective than physical pain.

The eyes of the civilian girl being scolded turned red, tears welling up, but she forced them back, not daring to let them fall.

Arashi's gaze eventually settled on Mei.

She bit her pale lower lip and forced herself to bend her knees, those same knees that once belonged to a ninja.

The moment they touched the soft cushion, her body trembled slightly.

Perhaps she had never knelt before anyone.

But now, to obtain the funds that could save her comrades, she had to kneel.

And she did so properly.

His eyes then moved to Kurenai.

Her movements were stiff.

Those legs that could walk upside down on trees struggled with this simplest of actions.

Those knees seemed to only kneel for the Will of Fire, to protect her comrades, not to please a man she had never met.

Arashi's smile deepened.

He hadn't expected Kurenai to be among the candidates.

In his previous life, he had actually liked her character.

But since she came, she had to follow the rules here.

Finally, his gaze fell on Ragyō.

Her movements weren't mere practice, but a deliberate performance.

Her slender waist curved gracefully, her kneeling posture exuding elegance and charm that invited pity.

When she bowed, her slender neck lowered slightly, revealing fair skin and a hint of cleavage.

Her exquisite face was calm and focused, showing neither humiliation nor resistance.

It was as if she viewed this training as a stage to display herself.

Beneath that calm exterior lay undisguised ambition.

She even took pride in it.

She used her body and demeanor to silently declare that she was the most perfect woman here, the one destined to win.

The old woman was clearly pleased with her. "Well done. It seems you've practiced diligently."

"Remember, everything about you exists to please Daimyo-sama."

"Your body, your smile, even every breath you take, must be just as he desires."

"Those who cannot learn, or learn poorly, will be eliminated directly."

"Do you all understand?"

"Yes!"

The responses were sparse, tinged with nervous tremors.

Arashi set down his teacup, the bottom clinking softly against the table.

Mei's endurance of humiliation.

Kurenai's silent resistance.

Ragyō's ambition.

All of them were striving to become his chamber guests.

And he would be the only admirer of their raw states.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 47: Like Cooking

A gentle breeze blew, carrying the strict admonishments of the female officials and suppressed sobs.

Thirty-six stunning women were being taught court etiquette.

Whether they came from noble backgrounds or possessed fiery temperaments, they now struck various alluring yet proper poses under the female officials' stern guidance.

This scene would undoubtedly stir any man's heart.

Yet, it was also the most direct manifestation of power.

Arashi watched calmly.

He liked beautiful women, and he liked the process of taming them even more.

To completely crush their arrogance, then brand them with his unique mark.

This sense of satisfaction far surpassed mere possession.

But he knew that both beauty and enjoyment stemmed from power.

If the foundation of that power were shaken, everything would disappear.

Only by making the foundation of his authority more stable could he gain more.

Beauty was merely an embellishment, a trophy.

He could not constantly indulge in pleasure.

As this thought crossed his mind, the appreciation in his eyes quietly faded, and his face regained its sternness.

Arashi drained the tea in his cup in one gulp, then slowly rose.

The etiquette official by the screen had not even reacted before seeing the Daimyo's departing figure.

It was as if the scene, which was enough to excite any man, was just a roadside sight in his eyes.

"My lord..."

The etiquette official hurriedly followed, a trace of panic in his voice.

Arashi's steps did not falter, and he said indifferently, "The training here should follow the rules."

"I want to see the results in a month."

Then he cast aside the garden's spring beauty and the distracting thoughts in his mind.

"Yes, Daimyo-sama."

The etiquette official knelt respectfully.

When he looked up again, the Daimyo's figure had already vanished. Inside the study, the scent of pine incense lingered.

Arashi changed back into his casual clothes and sat in the large chair.

On the desk before him, scrolls and documents were piled high, categorized and neatly organized.

At the very top were several highest-priority memorials, filtered by the butler according to the rules he had set.

They were distinguished by different colored seals.

Red represented military intelligence.

Gold represented people's livelihood.

Black represented oversight.

However, a scroll sealed with a golden seal had an additional black crow feather tied to it.

This was the highest alert he had established.

Crow Feather Urgent Report.

It meant that the matter was so urgent that it could shake the nation's foundation, and its priority superseded all regular urgent reports.

Arashi directly picked up the scroll with the crow feather attached and unrolled it.

The scroll read: Continuous heavy rain in the Southern Plains has caused rivers to overflow, affecting several cities, destroying thousands of acres of farmland, and the number of disaster victims has reached over one hundred thousand.

His brows furrowed instantly.

People's livelihood was the nation's foundation.

Especially at a time when he was about to make drastic changes to the ninja system, a stable rear was crucial.

If over one hundred thousand disaster victims were not handled properly, it would be enough to trigger a massive wave, causing all his plans to fail.

His brushstrokes were decisive, and his handwriting firm.

"Open granaries for disaster relief and appease the people's hearts."

"Order the Ministry of Works to immediately dispatch personnel to the disaster area to supervise the construction of dams. The necessary funds will be directly allocated from the national treasury. Local officials along the way must not delay or embezzle, violators will be immediately executed."

After dealing with this top priority, he picked up the urgent military report with the red seal.

The report read: Bandits are causing trouble on the border of the Land of Rivers. Their leader employs ruthless tactics, and it is suspected that rogue ninja are involved. The local garrison has failed in several encirclement campaigns and suffered heavy losses.

"A minor ailment, yet it vexes the heart."

He snorted coldly, his written directive imbued with killing intent.

"Order the local garrison to blockade all vital routes and cut off their supplies."

"Additionally, send a message to Konoha, ordering Minato Namikaze to personally lead a Jonin squad to assist in the annihilation, ensuring total elimination and displaying their heads along the border."

This would also show the people of Hi that Konoha's Yellow Flash must also obey the Daimyo Manor's orders.

Finally, he picked up the impeachment memorial with the black seal.

It was the final investigation report for an old case. The Vice Minister of the Ministry of Internal Affairs colluded with local officials and embezzled funds for river repairs last year. The evidence was conclusive.

Part of the embezzled funds was supposed to be used to reinforce the dam that had now burst.

Arashi immediately snorted coldly. In times of national crisis, corrupt officials were especially detestable.

He did not even make a written annotation on the memorial, but directly gave an oral command.

"Shadow Guard."

"Your subordinate is here."

A Shadow Guard appeared silently, as if he had always stood in the shadows.

"Go and apprehend this person for questioning," Arashi said calmly. "Make sure he coughs up everything he has swallowed over the years, principal and interest."

"As for him, three days later, at the breached dam, in front of all the disaster victims, execute him."

"Yes."

The Shadow Guard's reply was only one word, yet it was filled with a bloody scent.

After handling all urgent matters, the study returned to silence.

Arashi finally relaxed a little.

He lightly tapped the table, then, as if remembering something, walked to the map of the ninja world, his gaze falling on the Konoha marker.

Having brought Konoha to heel, the next step was to place a set of shackles upon it.

He had prepared two strategies for this.

One was to establish the Land of Fire Mission Center, centralizing all mission issuance and allocation rights under national control.

If this step succeeded, it would mean gaining control of Konoha's economic lifeline.

This was only the first step.

The second step, and the most crucial one, was the separation of military and government.

"Hokage, it is time to return to your origin," Arashi murmured softly, his eyes deep.

The duty of a blade is to sharpen its edge, not to indulge in political affairs.

Konoha's internal affairs, from village planning and fiscal taxation to neighborhood disputes, all belonged to political matters.

How could they be managed by a group of ninja who only understood killing?

At that time, the Daimyo Manor's Konoha Political Affairs Office would be established, fully taking over all of Konoha's civilian and political affairs.

From then on, the Hokage would command the military, and he would command the Hokage.

All military actions, without his permission, were not to be taken lightly.

And he would govern with one hand and command the military with the other, unifying the strength of the entire Land of Fire.

When both military and political power were in his hands.

That would be the true reign over the world.

In fact, he had another arrangement, but this arrangement required patient effort.

On the day of his ascension, the content of the arrangement was slightly altered by him.

The reason for adding the term "Will of Fire" was that he absolutely had to obtain the interpretive authority of the Will of Fire.

This might seem unimportant, but its significance far exceeded the previous two points.

The current Konoha ninja had all grown up hearing about the Will of Fire.

No matter how high and mighty the Daimyo was, in their hearts, Konoha's status was greater than that of Land of Fire.

He could subdue one generation by force, but he could not do so for every generation.

Therefore, obtaining the interpretive authority and reinjecting a new Will of Fire into the new generation of ninja was crucial.

This point was of utmost importance.

When these three steps were completely accomplished, the entire Land of Fire would truly be under his command.

After unifying the world, following this path would allow him to manage the world faster and better.

However, he had not found a suitable opportunity yet.

Arashi had also considered using his Six Paths power to forcefully advance and quickly enter the process of unifying the world.

But after careful consideration, he dismissed the idea.

Governing a large country is like cooking a small fish, being too rigid and overbearing would only force everyone to unite and resist him.

After the Third Ninja World War, Konoha was already severely weakened and could not withstand any further turmoil.

Even if he had immense power, if he lost Konoha, this blade, would he unify the world by himself?

If others resorted to guerrilla warfare, he would be completely worn down and fall into a desperate state of constantly rushing about.

He would definitely win, but he would also be left with only a ruined Land of Fire.

How could he enjoy himself then? How could he reign over the world?

After all, governance requires a sufficiently large population as its foundation.

So, no rush.

He could not be anxious.

Arashi took a deep breath, admonishing and comforting himself in this way.

Just then, an official suddenly requested an audience at the door. It was Asaba Toru.

After he entered, Arashi asked, "Is there any progress on the matter?"

Toru respectfully replied, "Reporting, Daimyo-sama, the first batch of merchant caravans departed this morning."

"And the trade transit station that the two countries promised to jointly fund has also begun site selection and surveying."

Arashi burst into laughter. "Good, very good."

This good news immediately dispelled much of the vexation he had felt from the earlier bad news.

First, the initial selection of concubine candidates was complete.

Then, the trade arrangements were also progressing rapidly.

This greatly pleased him.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 48: Return of Heroes

Konoha, early morning.

The Ninja Academy's training ground was temporarily repurposed.

The open space, usually filled with children's laughter, was now packed with people.

Clan Heads of various families, elders who had retired to the background, and young ninja who had emerged from the Genius program.

They stood in familial order, clearly delineated and silent.

At the front of the crowd, Hiruzen Sarutobi wore simple clothes, his pipe unlit.

Beside him, Minato Namikaze wore his Hokage robe.

His clear blue eyes were as serene as the sky, and a warm, sunny smile graced his face.

He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the young faces, and said:

"Everyone."

His voice, amplified by chakra, reached everyone's ears clearly.

"Today, we gather here to witness a new step toward the Land of Fire's prosperity."

"The Daimyo-sama, concerned for us ninja, has established a special Genius Cultivation Program to nurture Konoha's next generation of pillars, and has personally allocated a massive sum of funds."

He paused, then turned slightly and continued, "Next, I invite the special envoy from the Daimyo Manor's Internal Affairs Department to read the Daimyo-sama's decree and distribute the funds."

All eyes turned in unison to a middle-aged man dressed in the official robes of the Daimyo Manor.

He did not rush forward until Minato finished speaking.

Behind him were two rows of heavily armored samurai.

Behind the samurai were over a dozen large, heavy wooden chests.

The chests were locked, but many below craned their necks, their Adam's apples bobbing.

The Internal Affairs official cleared his throat, his chin slightly raised as he looked down at the field.

"By order of the Daimyo-sama."

Everyone in the audience instinctively stood straighter.

"Effective immediately, the Land of Fire's Special Genius Cultivation Program is officially launched."

"All those selected are pillars of the Land of Fire and shall be treated as vital national assets."

"The Daimyo-sama has decreed that, to ensure the unimpeded growth of these geniuses, special funds are approved and will be distributed according to their talent rank."

"Now, the names will be read."

"Uchiha Shisui, Rank A-plus, monthly stipend of three million ryo."

"Mitarashi Anko, Rank A, monthly stipend of two million ryo."

"Might Guy, Rank A, monthly stipend of two million ryo."

"..."

One name after another was called out.

One young ninja after another walked onto the high platform under the envious gazes of the crowd.

When the money chests, filled with brand new banknotes, were handed to them, almost all the young people's arms trembled.

That was not just the weight of money.

It was also a ladder to instant success in the future.

One civilian ninja, flushed with excitement, knelt directly on the ground and kowtowed heavily toward the Land of Fire's Capital.

"Thank you, Daimyo-sama."

That bow was like a signal.

All the young ninja who had received funds spontaneously knelt down.

Waves of gratitude, like a mountain roar and sea surge, echoed over the training ground.

"Thank you, Daimyo-sama."

Hiruzen watched this scene, finally putting his pipe in his mouth and lighting it.

The smoke he exhaled obscured his lonely face.

Minato sighed deeply, both happy for these youths and worried for the village's future.

He wondered if such a change was correct.

"Sensei, have you accepted your fate?"

A soft, effeminate voice, tinged with mockery, echoed faintly.

Hiruzen did not turn around. He knew who it was.

Orochimaru.

His most brilliant disciple, who had appeared behind him at some point, a playful smile on his pale face.

Hiruzen exhaled a smoke ring.

"You finally decided to leave your laboratory?"

"Hehe..." Orochimaru chuckled softly, his long tongue licking his lips, a look of morbid excitement on his face. "Such a magnificent spectacle, would it not be a pity not to witness it firsthand?"

He looked at the young ninja who were so grateful to the Daimyo, his tone mocking.

"Look at them, such pure eyes, such sincere gratitude."

"The Konoha you protected your entire life, the Will of Fire you preached your entire life, in the end, are worth less than this gold."

"Hiruzen-sensei, do you not think... it is pathetic?"

Hiruzen did not answer, merely took a deep drag from his pipe.

"Hehehe."

Orochimaru chuckled mockingly, his gaze shifting from Hiruzen's back and returning to the mountain of money on the high platform.

The mocking smile on his face gradually vanished, replaced by irritation.

Ever since Danzō was eliminated, his biggest source of funding had dried up.

Most of the research that required massive financial support had been put on hold.

Even worse, without Root's cover, he was almost unable to acquire experimental subjects.

Ten days ago, he risked infiltrating the Konoha prison and managed to get a few death row inmates out.

However, the security there was even tighter than before, and any slight disturbance would attract swarms of Anbu.

He had almost been exposed yesterday.

As if sensing Orochimaru's anxiety and resentment.

Hiruzen slowly turned, facing his disciple's pale face.

"Orochimaru, put away your thoughts."

"Times have changed."

"This is no longer an era where you can do as you please."

Orochimaru's smile grew even more sinister.

"Do as I please?"

"Sensei, do you not think this is truly the era where one can do as one pleases?"

"As long as one can gain the favor of that person."

His words made Hiruzen's heart sink sharply.

There was no further conversation between the two.

After the ceremony ended and the crowd dispersed, the Internal Affairs official slowly approached.

He walked directly to Minato, bowing slightly.

His posture was humble, but his words were impeccable.

"Minato-sama, the Daimyo has another verbal decree that requires your personal supervision."

Minato politely said, "Please speak."

The official's tone was equally polite. "The Daimyo-sama says that all those selected for the Twelve Guardian Ninja shall depart immediately for the Land of Fire's Capital to report, without delay."

"This matter, I shall trouble the Fourth Hokage to arrange."

Minato nodded. "I understand."

Just then.

A lazy yet highly penetrating female voice rang out.

"What is all this commotion about?"

"Is it a funeral for the village? Quite the spectacle."

The voice was not loud, but it instantly silenced the entire field's clamor.

Everyone turned to look in unison.

They saw a woman slowly approaching.

Her face showed the fatigue of a hangover, and her tall figure was draped in a loose green robe, but the baggy clothing could not completely conceal her ample curves beneath.

With each step, her proud bosom swayed.

Her slender waist contrasted with her full hips.

As she walked, her round, perky figure swayed gracefully.

It was Tsunade.

One of the legendary Sannin, the First Hokage's granddaughter, the peak of medical ninjutsu.

She had returned.

Her face showed no traces of age, still the peak beauty of a woman in her twenties.

But her beautiful eyes held an unshakeable weariness.

A young girl followed behind her.

The girl wore a dark blue kimono, holding a small pig in her arms.

Her figure was still youthful, but her chest had already begun to develop.

Her black short hair framed her cheeks, accentuating her fair skin.

Her delicate face was filled with bewilderment and unease.

Her name was Shizune.

She curiously observed the scene before her, completely unaware of what was happening.

Why were the Third Hokage and Fourth Hokage both here?

Why was Orochimaru also here?

The girl's naivety and innocence formed a stark contrast with the mature, charming, and powerful Tsunade in front of her.

"Tsunade..."

Hiruzen's expression grew even more complex as he saw his other disciple.

Since the end of the Kannabi Bridge battle earlier in the year, there had been no more warfare in the western part of the Land of Fire.

This coincided with the internal strife in the Hidden Mist to the east.

Only Kumo refused to give up, still constantly provoking incidents along the border.

But the strategic advantage accumulated by the Land of Fire during the Third Ninja World War meant that Kumo alone no longer posed a threat.

So Tsunade had left Konoha with Shizune to travel around.

Hiruzen knew Tsunade had issues with him, so he tacitly approved.

Seeing Tsunade return, Orochimaru's eyes narrowed slightly, and he spoke in a sinister tone, "You actually decided to come back?"

Tsunade retorted unceremoniously, "Talk to me in that tone again, and see if I do not beat you up."

Then, without even looking at Orochimaru, she walked directly to the Third Hokage, frowning.

"Old man, what happened to the village to make it like this?"

Her tone was aggressive, completely disregarding everyone else.

Hiruzen gave a wry smile and shook his head. "We will talk later."

The Internal Affairs official had noticed Tsunade when she appeared.

Without lingering, his gaze returned to Minato, a formal smile on his face. "Minato-sama, today's matters are concluded, I shall not tarry."

"Alright, thank you for your trouble, sir," Minato said politely, then gestured to Nara Shikaku. "Shikaku, please see him off for me."

The official bowed slightly again, then turned and left with his guard.

"I understand."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 49: Like a Monkey

After the Internal Affairs Department official left, Minato finally had time to greet Tsunade.

He said, "Tsunade-sama, you have returned."

"Mm. Minato, you look well."

Tsunade glanced at him, her gaze sweeping over him, then she frowned deeply and asked her teacher,

"What exactly happened to the village? Why does it feel like someone else's home?"

"This is not the place to talk."

Hiruzen extinguished his pipe and waved his hand at her and Orochimaru. "Let's talk at my house."

Tsunade paused, snorted coldly, and said to Minato, "Coming along?"

Minato chuckled. "No, the border has been plagued by bandits recently. I need to go deal with it."

Tsunade nodded, said nothing more, and followed her teacher away.

Shizune, holding Tonton, timidly looked around and followed closely behind.

Orochimaru licked his lips, chuckled softly, and followed like a shadow.

The Sarutobi compound was still the same, ancient and serene.

As the group stepped into the courtyard, a white-haired but spry old woman emerged from the house to greet them.

It was Hiruzen's wife, Biwako.

"Tsunade? Orochimaru?"

Biwako's eyes flashed with surprise upon seeing them, her face filled with maternal affection.

"You two children, you have finally decided to visit."

She stepped forward and took Tsunade's hand, then looked Orochimaru up and down, muttering, "You have gotten thin, both of you."

Biwako's warmth softened Tsunade's expression slightly.

"Biwako-sama."

"Heh heh, you still remember to greet people."

Biwako smiled and patted her hand, then glared at Orochimaru beside her. "And you, cat got your tongue?"

"Biwako-sama." Orochimaru bowed slightly, the chill on his face dissipating considerably.

"Alright, alright, come in and sit down, I will make you some tea."

Biwako bustled about enthusiastically, as if they were still the little brats who used to follow Hiruzen around.

"Biwako," Hiruzen said, "go make dinner first. We have matters to discuss. The tea can be brought in later."

The smile on Biwako's face froze. She looked at her husband's serious expression, then at Tsunade and Orochimaru, and immediately understood something.

She sighed and nodded. "Understood. You all... talk well."

In the study, Hiruzen personally poured tea for the two.

Without the title of Hokage, he now seemed more like an elder worried about his juniors.

"Speak," Tsunade broke the silence first, getting straight to the point. "What exactly happened while I was away? Why is that scoundrel Danzō not here? With such a big event, would he not jump out to seek attention?"

"He is dead."

This answer caused Tsunade's pupils to contract sharply.

"Dead? Who killed him? Kumo, or Iwa?"

"Neither." Hiruzen shook his head, his tone complex. "He died in the Land of Fire Capital. The new Daimyo ordered his execution on charges of treason."

"What?!"

Tsunade abruptly stood up, her beautiful eyes fixed on Hiruzen. "The Daimyo?! How dare he execute a Konoha Advisor! What about Minato? Did he just stand by and watch?"

Hiruzen slowly exhaled a turbid breath. "He tried to commit treason."

He began to recount the events that had transpired.

Starting from the Daimyo Manor's decree, which directly cut Konoha's financial budget by twenty percent.

He spoke of how Danzō secretly conspired, attempting to launch a coup, but was swiftly suppressed. Tsunade interjected, "Then he deserved to die."

Hiruzen did not refute, a mournful look in his eyes, and continued his narration.

He explained how, after Danzō's death, the Daimyo used the Genius Cultivation Program and the Twelve Guardian Ninja as bait to completely reshuffle Konoha's power structure.

Tsunade listened with a pounding heart.

Her expression shifted from initial anger, to shock, and then to disbelief.

She could not imagine how the Daimyo, who was supposed to provide financial support, managed to directly extend his hand into Konoha's heart.

This had already broken the tacit balance of power that had formed between ninja and nobles since the First Hokage established the village.

"...So, now all the geniuses of the village, all the future hopes, are nominally the Daimyo's people?"

"Yes." Hiruzen nodded, a bitter smile on his face. "Not only that, the re-establishment of the Twelve Guardian Ninja also caused all the major families to scramble."

"Now, the will of the Daimyo Manor is unobstructed in Konoha."

Tsunade slowly sat down, her chest heaving violently.

She felt as if she had experienced a very absurd dream.

"Heh heh..."

Beside them, Orochimaru, who had been silent, suddenly chuckled softly. "Hiruzen-sensei, you seem to have missed the most interesting part."

Hiruzen glared at him.

Orochimaru, however, paid no mind. He looked at the bewildered Tsunade.

"Tsunade, do you know? During the process of our great Daimyo integrating Konoha, something particularly amusing happened."

"He issued an edict to select concubines throughout the Land of Fire."

Tsunade frowned. "Selecting concubines? Sure enough, those nobles have nothing but power and women in their heads. Is he trying to get his hands on Konoha's bloodline limits?"

This was almost her first reaction.

"Exactly."

Tsunade's answer immediately made Orochimaru clap his hands and laugh heartily, a rare burst of genuine joy. "Everyone in Konoha thought the same as you."

"Especially the Uchiha and the Hyuga."

"On the Uchiha side, Fugaku's wife personally stepped in, grooming her own younger sister like an offering, just waiting to send her to the Daimyo's bed."

"The Hyuga were even more miserable. At first, they refused outright, but then the Daimyo Manor investigated them over tax issues, almost confiscating all their assets. In the end, they still sheepishly submitted a list of all the family's geniuses."

"Do you know what the funniest part is?"

Orochimaru leaned closer, his voice lowered, his face full of schadenfreude.

"In the end, everyone discovered that the Daimyo, from beginning to end, never mentioned wanting women from their families."

"What he wanted was just their loyalty."

"Selecting concubines is one thing, and the Genius Cultivation Program is another, they are completely separate matters."

"Hahaha... Imagine that scene, the entire Konoha, all the families who prided themselves on their intelligence, being played like monkeys."

"It is truly too interesting."

Hiruzen watched Orochimaru laughing so hard he was bent over, and suddenly realized how long it had been since he had seen him smile.

He laughed just like he did when he was a child.

Tsunade was completely stunned after hearing this.

She opened her mouth, but not a single word came out.

Absurd.

Too absurd.

How could the village become such a laughingstock because of something like this?

"However..."

Hiruzen's voice sounded again, a smile also appearing on his face.

That smile, surprisingly, carried a hint of relief.

"Although the village has become like this, for civilians, it might be a good thing."

"After the Daimyo's ascension, all war taxes were abolished, and high pensions were given to civilians injured and disabled in the war."

"Now, prices in the village are much lower than during the war, and many formerly poor families can now live stable lives."

Tsunade was startled.

She looked at the heartfelt joy on her teacher's face, her heart a mix of emotions.

She suddenly felt that the teacher before her had become incredibly unfamiliar.

After a long while, she found her voice again.

"What about Jiraiya? Is he still at the border?"

"Yes, he is." Hiruzen nodded. "Our peace agreement with Kumo has not been officially signed yet, so someone needs to guard that area."

Tsunade nodded, not speaking further.

In the study, silence fell once more.

The teacher and student, who once had endless conversations, now sat in wordless contemplation.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 50: You Are Free!

It was already afternoon when they left Sarutobi's residence.

Tsunade and Orochimaru walked side by side on the streets of Konoha.

The late autumn sun was no longer scorching. It felt warm and pleasant on their bodies.

"The old man... he is really old."

Recalling her teacher's home earlier, Tsunade could not help but sigh, her tone carrying an indescribable melancholy.

The man who was once so spirited and could suppress the three of them now looked like an ordinary old man.

All his sharpness had been worn away by time.

"Hmph, he just recognized reality, that is all."

Orochimaru scoffed, dismissive.

Tsunade stopped, looking at him with displeasure. "Show some respect, he is our teacher after all."

"Yes, yes, our teacher."

Orochimaru replied perfunctorily, lost in thought.

His gaze, however, curiously surveyed his surroundings.

Tsunade also fell silent, beginning to observe the village she had been away from for nearly a year.

The streets were much cleaner than she remembered.

The shops on both sides were almost all open, and business seemed to be good.

She even saw many civilians in the butcher shop, which was a rare sight in the past.

Several women, carrying vegetable baskets, walked along, chatting cheerfully about who had received funding from the Daimyo-sama.

Along the way, Tsunade heard such discussions constantly.

Suddenly, she paused.

Ahead, several children were chasing and playing, their small faces beaming with joy.

She did not even know how long it had been since she had seen such a scene.

The entire village exuded a vibrant energy.

This energy was even stronger than when they defeated Suna and Iwa.

However, the one who created all this was not the Hokage.

Instead, it was a so-called Daimyo whom she had never met.

Standing on the bustling street, Tsunade, for the first time, felt a sense of confusion about the Will of Fire, which she had believed in unwaveringly since childhood.

Protecting Konoha... what exactly was she protecting?

...The Hyuga Clan's territory was always so quiet.

So quiet that it felt as if time itself slowed down here.

The wind chimes under the eaves were still, the garden's landscape was undisturbed, and even the air was filled with a sense of dullness and solemnity.

This was one of Konoha's oldest noble families.

And rules were everything here.

The long corridor was deep, and sunlight, cut into strips by the lattice, lay on the polished floor.

Hyuga Hizashi knelt under the corridor.

In front of him was a neatly folded set of travel clothes and a money box filled with brand new banknotes.

These were the uniform and the first month's salary for the Twelve Guardian Ninja, just issued by the Daimyo Manor.

The money box was unopened, but he knew the amount inside was substantial.

Yet, he simply knelt silently, his back straight, not moving an inch.

He was waiting.

Waiting for the Clan Head of the Main Family, his twin brother, Hyuga Hiashi.

As a member of the Branch Family, even after becoming one of the Twelve Guardian Ninja, he could not leave without permission.

He had to obtain permission from the Main Family.

Footsteps came from deep within the corridor, neither fast nor slow.

Hizashi did not look up. He merely lowered his head further.

Hiashi stopped in front of him, looking down at his younger brother.

He wore a pristine white Main Family robe, his face identical to Hizashi's, his expression indifferent.

"Leaving?"

Hiashi spoke, his voice flat, devoid of emotion.

"Yes, Clan Head-sama," Hizashi replied respectfully, his voice equally calm.

In the Hyuga, Branch Family members addressing the Main Family had to add sama to their title.

Even if they were biological brothers.

"Are your things packed?"

"Yes."

"Going to the Land of Fire Capital, you will stay for ten years, representing the face of the Hyuga. You must not be negligent."

Yes, I understand. I will not fail the family's trust.

The conversation was brief, like a formality.

Hiashi's gaze fell on the money box.

"The Daimyo Manor is quite generous," he said, his tone complex.

Once upon a time, the fate, income, and life and death of the Branch Family were decided by a single word from the Main Family.

Now, an order from the Daimyo Manor easily granted them wealth and status that even the Main Family could not bestow.

This made Hiashi feel annoyed.

After a moment of silence, Hiashi took out a money pouch from his robe and placed it in front of Hizashi.

"Take this money."

"You will need it on the way."

Hizashi's body stiffened slightly.

He did not look up, saying in a low voice, "Thank you for the Clan Head-sama's generosity."

The money pouch was thin, like a handout.

It was more like the Main Family's final, hypocritical control over the Branch Family.

Hiashi grunted, then squatted down, meeting Hizashi's gaze.

This face, identical to his own, had only one difference, the blue Caged Bird Seal on the forehead.

He reached out, wanting to pat his brother's shoulder.

His hand, however, stopped in midair, finally resting on the travel clothes, gently smoothing out a slight wrinkle.

"When you reach the Land of Fire Capital, be careful in all things."

"The Twelve Guardian Ninja are all elites from various clans. Competition is inevitable."

"But remember, you are a Hyuga."

Hizashi still kept his head down. "Yes, for the Hyuga Clan."

For the Hyuga Clan.

These four words were another seal carved into his soul.

Because of these four words, his son, Neji, would also be marked with the same disgrace when he grew older.

Because of these four words, he, despite having talent no less than his brother's, could only be a shadow, a shield for the Main Family.

Seeing his submissive appearance, a wave of inexplicable vexation rose in Hiashi's heart.

He stood up.

"Go say goodbye to Neji."

"Yes."

Hizashi finally looked up, but his gaze avoided his brother's face, turning instead to the cherry blossom tree in the courtyard.

"Neji... he is still young."

"In the future, I entrust him to the Clan Head-sama's care."

Hiashi's eyes flickered.

He knew what his brother wanted to say.

"Neji is also a member of the Hyuga. The Main Family has its own arrangements," Hiashi replied.

Rules are rules.

Sometimes, even as Clan Head, he could not break them.

Hizashi's lips moved, but he said nothing more.

He lowered his head again, touching his forehead to the ground in a standard deep bow.

"Then I'll take my leave."

With that, he slowly rose, picked up his travel clothes and money box, turned, and silently walked out of the corridor.

He did not look back.

There was no extra word of farewell.

His back was solitary, step by step, walking out of this courtyard that had oppressed him for half his life.

Watching his brother's retreating figure, Hiashi remained silent.

He watched him walk from light into shadow, and then from shadow toward the sunlight outside the corridor.

Watching that figure about to disappear around the corner.

He suddenly spoke.

"Hizashi."

Hizashi's footsteps halted.

He did not turn around.

Hiashi looked at that stiff back, his Adam's apple bobbing, and said in a voice he himself found unfamiliar:

"You are free."

The air, in that instant, solidified.

Free?

How ridiculous.

From the moment he was born, from the moment the seal was branded on his forehead, these two words had nothing to do with him.

A long silence.

Just as Hiashi thought he would not answer, Hizashi turned around.

On his face was an impeccable smile.

But in those pure Byakugan, there was no trace of a smile, like a bottomless cold abyss.

"Clan Head-sama is joking."

His voice was still calm.

"My freedom, at the moment of my birth, belonged to the Main Family."

"Now, it, like my life, belongs to the great Daimyo-sama."

"It has never been mine."

"So how can one speak of freedom?"

With that, he bowed slightly again, his smile unchanged. "I must go fulfill my duties, Clan Head-sama."

As his words fell, he turned and left, without another pause.

Hiashi stood stiffly in place.

His brother's last look, those few words, pierced through his disguise, tearing apart his hypocrisy as an elder brother.

Freedom?

Yes.

How could a person with the Caged Bird Seal branded on his forehead ever be free?

That impulsive remark, instead, felt more like a curse.

Hiashi suddenly felt a chill.

That supreme Daimyo, with just an order, a decree, allowed Hizashi to leave the cage that had imprisoned him his entire life.

And it was a decree he himself had written.

But what about himself?

He, the head of the Hyuga, was forever trapped in the even larger and more magnificent cage of the Hyuga Main Family.

Who, in the end, was the true prisoner?

Ring. Ring. Ring.

A gust of wind blew, and the wind chimes under the eaves let out a crisp and lonely lament.

(To be continued.)

...

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Chapter Text

Chapter 51: Guardian Ninja, Set Off!

Hizashi's steps were steady and precise.
Each footfall landed at a fixed distance.
This was a rule of the Branch Family.

He walked through the corridor, out of the courtyard, leaving behind the stifling atmosphere of the Main Family.
Finally, he pushed open the small gate to his own home.

The sound of the gate hinge turning was soft.
The courtyard was small. A few wildflowers grew in the corner, adding a touch of life to the dull surroundings.

A woman stood under the eaves, holding a freshly dried coat, waiting quietly for him.
She was Hizashi's wife, also from the Branch Family.

Seeing him return, her face showed no particular emotion, but her pure Byakugan softened.

"You're back."
Her voice was gentle, like a soft breeze.

"Mm."
Hizashi responded, placing his luggage and money box under the eaves.

The woman stepped forward naturally, taking the outer robe he had removed. She then picked up the dried coat and carefully helped him put it on.

Her fingers were nimble, her movements gentle, smoothing out every wrinkle on the fabric.

"Everything is ready," she said softly.

"Mm."
Hizashi replied again, reaching out to gently hold his wife's somewhat cold hand.

They did not speak further.
But in that silence flowed a warmth and understanding that outsiders could never comprehend.

The two walked into the room side by side.

The room was not large, but it was meticulously tidy.

On the tatami, a small figure lay quietly under a futon, sleeping soundly.

That was their child, Neji.

Hyuga Neji.

Only a few months old, his small face was chubby, his eyelashes long, and he occasionally smacked his tiny mouth.

Hizashi knelt beside the futon, his usually straight back finally relaxing.
He reached out to touch his son, but his hand stopped in mid-air.

He looked down at his calloused hands, hands capable of sudden violence and killing.
He was afraid of disturbing his son's dream.

His wife noticed his hesitation, smiled, and pulled his hand over, gently placing it on the swaddling clothes.

"He's very well-behaved. He doesn't cry much."

"He's like you."

A genuine smile finally appeared on Hizashi's face, one from deep within his heart.

He gazed at his son's sleeping face, his eyes gentle.

"Neji…"

He whispered softly.

Freedom?

For him, it was both a luxury and an irony.

But looking at his son, he suddenly felt that his journey might truly bring this child real freedom.

Perhaps Neji wouldn't have to bear that humiliating mark on his forehead.
Perhaps he wouldn't have to bow before the Main Family.
Perhaps he wouldn't have to be like him, a bird trapped in a cage until death.

If he could achieve these things, what did his own life matter?

Daimyo… that title flashed through his mind, carrying a reverence and hope he hadn't even realized he possessed.

"On the way, be careful."

At some point, his wife had leaned gently against his shoulder.

"Mm, I know."

Hizashi put his arm around her, savoring this rare moment of tenderness.

"Winter is coming soon. The Fire Capital will probably be cold."

"It's fine. The clothes you made are very thick."

"Be careful with money."

"The stipend from Daimyo-sama is generous. It's enough."

They chatted idly, talking about ordinary household matters.

Yet it felt more comforting than any solemn vow.

Time passed bit by bit.
The sky outside the window turned golden.

Hizashi knew it was time to leave.

He took one last look at his sleeping son, as if engraving the image into his heart.
Then, he slowly rose.

His wife also stood, adjusting his clothes.

"I'm leaving."

"I'll wait for you to come back."

No more words were exchanged.

Hizashi picked up his luggage and money box, turned, and walked out the door.

The moment he stepped outside, the warmth of a husband and father vanished.
His figure once again became calm and upright.

His wife stood behind the door, silently watching him.

He didn't look back, walking straight ahead. The morning mist had not yet dispersed.

At Konoha's main gate, Hizashi stood alone, his posture straight.
He was the earliest to arrive.

A gust of wind blew, and a figure approached from a distance.
It was Asuma Sarutobi.

Among the Guardian Ninja, he was the youngest.

Seeing Hizashi, Asuma paused, then raised his hand in greeting.

"Morning, Hizashi-senpai."

He walked forward, smiling cheerfully and speaking with a polite tone.
"I didn't expect you to be even earlier than me."

As the Third Hokage's son, Asuma knew how to interact with elites from prominent families.

Hizashi was a little surprised.
He knew Asuma's rebellious nature and didn't expect him to be so polite.

He nodded politely. "Morning, Asuma."

Asuma habitually pulled out his cigarette case, flicked one out, and placed it in his mouth.
His hand reached for a lighter, but he stopped.

He glanced at Hizashi, then at the cigarette between his fingers.
Clicking his tongue, he withdrew his hand, keeping the unlit cigarette in his mouth.

Leaning lazily against the gatepost, Asuma said, "We'll be working together for ten years, Senior."

"A place like the Fire Capital must have tons of rules. Just thinking about it gives me a headache."

"Perhaps. Everywhere has many rules."

The two chatted casually.

Soon, three more figures arrived together.
They were Ninja from the Ino–Shika–Chō families.

The Nara clansman leading them saw Asuma and raised his chin.
"Asuma, you're here too!"

"Yeah, you guys are pretty early too."

Asuma smiled, clearly familiar with them.

Before he finished speaking, a figure appeared in an instant—an Uchiha Ninja.
His expression, like most of his clan, was calm and distant. His gaze swept across the scene.

He nodded slightly, a form of greeting, then stood alone on the other side, keeping his distance.

It wasn't hostility. Everyone understood that.
It was simply the Uchiha's way.

They also knew that once on the battlefield, the Uchiha were the most reliable comrades. Unless they died, they would never betray their allies.

Next came the Inuzuka, Aburame, and Kurama clans, arriving one after another.
Some of them were familiar with each other, having even saved one another's lives on the battlefield.

Now, they nodded and exchanged a few words.

Finally, two young men approached, their steps cautious.

They were Kazuma and Natsukawa, outstanding individuals who had risen from the civilian ranks.

Seeing the elites from the major families, they instinctively stopped at the edge of the group.

Asuma noticed them and waved.
"Hey, you two, come over here. Don't stand so far away."

This gesture immediately put them at ease, and they walked over gratefully.

Eleven people.
Konoha's Guardian Ninja.

All were now present.

They came from different families, with different backgrounds and personalities.

There was a rebel like Asuma, a Hokage's son who wanted to escape his father's shadow.
An elite like Hizashi, burdened by family destiny.
And civilian geniuses like Kazuma and Natsukawa, eager to prove themselves.

But from today onward, they would share one identity.
One loyalty.

They looked at each other, knowing in their hearts that from the moment they stepped out of Konoha's main gate, they would become the Daimyo's direct Guardian Ninja, comrades who would serve together for ten years.

Asuma looked around, counted the heads, and took the cigarette from his mouth.

"There are eleven of us here, so everyone should be present."

"I heard my father say that the last member of the Twelve Guardian Ninja is Great Master Chiriku, the Guardian Monk of the Fire Temple. He'll meet us in the Fire Capital. Any questions?"

No one spoke.

The Ninja from the major families remained calm, clearly already informed.

Kazuma and Natsukawa, however, showed faint surprise, not expecting a non-Konoha member in their group.

Asuma nodded at their reaction. "Since there are no questions, let's depart. I can't wait."

He said no more and took the first step forward.

Hizashi followed closely behind.
The others followed in silence.

The moment they stepped beyond the village gate, without a single word, their formation spread out instantly into a standard alert formation.

The road ahead was unknown, but those traveling together were, for now, comrades.

Their destination: the Fire Capital.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 52: Ninjutsu Shouldn't Be Used Only For Killing

The Fire Capital was always bustling.

When the first ray of sunlight pierced through the clouds, the area outside the city gates was already teeming with people.

Artisans, youths, farmers—they had gathered from all over the Land of Fire, their faces showing fatigue, yet their eyes shone with hope for the future.

"I heard you can earn five thousand ryo a day in the city. Is that true?"

"More than that! As long as you're willing to work. If you get into one of Daimyo-sama's manor workshops, food and lodging are included, and there's a bonus at the end of the month!"

"My neighbor's second son sent back thirty thousand ryo last month. He said he's building roads in the city and can eat meat every meal!"

The Daimyo's series of recruitment notices and generous welfare policies were attracting laborers from surrounding villages and towns at an incredible pace.

Prosperity in the Fire Capital was growing at an unprecedented speed.

Arashi stood atop the highest pavilion of Daimyo's manor, overlooking the crowds below, his brows tightly furrowed.

The head butler, Gen, stood respectfully behind him.

"My Lord, the City Guard and the Ministry of Internal Affairs just submitted reports. The population in the west of the city has surged, and conflicts concerning public order and livelihood have already appeared."

As Arashi's most trusted butler, Gen was responsible for handling all intelligence and documents.

He knew his master prioritized issues concerning the people's welfare, so he reported immediately when the document arrived.

Arashi tapped lightly on the windowsill.

"I ordered the Ministry of Works to begin construction on the new residential area in the west half a month ago. What happened? Has the work not started yet?"

"Reporting, My Lord," Gen bowed even lower, "the Ministry of Works seems to have encountered some difficulties."

"The Vice Minister of Works has been waiting outside for some time, saying he has an urgent matter to report to you personally."

"Let him in."

Arashi turned and sat back in his chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest.

Moments later, a Ministry of Works official covered in sweat hurried in and immediately knelt to the ground.

"Greetings, Daimyo-sama!"

"Speak. What has you in such a rush?" Arashi's tone was calm and emotionless.

"Reporting, My Lord!" The official's voice trembled. "That land in the west of the city… we can't build houses there!"

With that, he pulled out a blueprint and a small bag of soil from his sleeve, continuing, "I organized the best artisans in the capital to survey the area multiple times. The soil is soft as sand, and the underground water level is too high. It can't support the foundations of large buildings!"

"If we force construction, all the houses will collapse within half a year!"

Arashi picked up the bag of damp sandy soil and squeezed it. "So, what's the Ministry of Works' conclusion?"

"Your subordinate… suggests converting the land into farmland and choosing another site for the residential area."

"It's just that re-surveying, planning, and site selection will take at least three months to produce a preliminary plan…"

Arashi's tone immediately grew heavier. "Three months?"

"By the time you all come up with a plan, the day lilies will have withered."

"By then, the west of the city won't just have public order issues, there'll be riots."

He looked down at the trembling official and said slowly, "I reject your suggestion."

"You may leave."

"Yes!" The official bowed quickly and withdrew.

After he left, Arashi rubbed his forehead in thought, then turned his gaze toward the shadows in the study.

"Have the Shadow Guard and the Kurokaze Clan gather all Ninja skilled in Earth Release and assemble immediately at the construction site in the west of the city."

"Yes!"

The figure standing silently in the corner flickered once and disappeared.

Arashi then turned to Gen. "Prepare an inconspicuous carriage for me. I want to personally inspect the site."

"Yes, My Lord."

Gen bowed and quickly went to make arrangements.

Half an hour later, an ordinary carriage left through the side gate of Daimyo-sama's manor and blended into the bustling street.

Inside the carriage, Arashi closed his eyes to rest.

The reason he decided to go in person wasn't on impulse but from careful consideration.

Because he wanted to overturn a deeply ingrained idea.

A Ninja should not be used only for killing.

In past eras, the value of a Ninja was measured by how many S-rank missions he could complete, or how many powerful enemies he could kill.

How narrow-minded.

Is the worth of a skilled Earth Release Ninja only to raise an Earth Wall for defense, or to trap enemies in a Swamp of the Underworld?

Can a Medical Ninja only tend to the wounded on the battlefield?

No.

That way of thinking is too wasteful.

In Arashi's plan, Earth Release Ninja could alter terrain, reinforce dams, open mountains to build roads, and even raise cities from the ground!

Medical Ninja could be stationed in the capital, spreading hygiene knowledge, preventing epidemics, and improving the overall lifespan of the nation.

That was the true potential of Ninja as extraordinary productivity.

Using the sharpest blade to chop firewood is a waste.

But if that firewood can light the hearths of an entire nation, then it holds more value than slaying any Kage-level opponent.

Today, he would show everyone what a Ninja—the sharpest weapon—could achieve in his hands.

Gathering both the Shadow Guard and the Kurokaze Clan at once was to make them understand that whoever solved his problems better would live better.

Competition was always the best means of improving efficiency.

The carriage rolled past the lively commercial district and entered the dilapidated west side of the city.

The fragrance of food and perfume in the air gradually faded, replaced by the scent of sweat and dust.

Makeshift shacks lined the roadsides.

After passing through the area, the carriage stopped before a barren open space.

At the edge of the clearing, two groups of people were already waiting, clearly separated.

On the left stood seven black-clad Ninja exuding fierce auras—the Kurokaze Clan.

Once a great clan, their strength had been drained by Danzō's experiments for years. After sending some to the Land of Lightning, only these few remained.

Even so, their eyes still burned with determination.

On the right were eight Shadow Guard with calm and restrained auras. They were the Earth Release specialists among them.

The Kurokaze leader stepped forward as soon as Arashi appeared, kneeling heavily on one knee.

"Kurokaze Clan, Earth Release squad, all present and awaiting your command, Daimyo-sama!"

The Kurokaze Ninja behind him knelt in unison.

On the other side, the leader of the Kage Guard also knelt silently, his movements precise.

"Shadow Guard Earth Release team, present as ordered."

Arashi's gaze swept over both groups, ignoring their formality.

He walked to the center of the wasteland and stomped down. The hollow feeling under his foot confirmed what the Ministry of Works had said.

He squatted down, scooped up a handful of soil, and examined it. The texture was poor, filled with moisture and sand.

"Report your survey results," Arashi said without turning his head.

"Reporting, My Lord," the Shadow Guard leader spoke first, his voice calm and precise. "Using secret techniques, we found that within three zhang underground, it's all quicksand-like soil. Below that is a hard rock layer."

"In my judgment, this area is unsuitable for building houses."

The Kurokaze leader immediately followed, unwilling to fall behind. "My Lord, if you wish to build here, we'd have to dig out all ten meters of quicksand and refill it with stone. The amount of work is immense…"

"Even with Earth Release Ninjutsu, completing it quickly would be difficult."

The Shadow Guard were the eyes, and the Kurokaze the blade. Their roles were clear.

Arashi stood up, brushing the dirt from his hands. "So, you both believe this land is unsuitable for building houses?"

"Your subordinates… are incompetent."

Both groups lowered their heads even further.

Arashi didn't respond.

He gazed silently at the vast, barren land for a long while.

Then he spoke slowly, his calm voice carrying weight with every word.

"I will ask only one question."

"If I can turn these ten meters of quicksand into solid rock within a day.."

"Do you have the confidence to shape all the walls and foundations of the houses using Earth Release within half a month?"

(To be continued.)

Chapter 53: Proper Use of the Six Paths

Arashi's voice was calm.

But his question made all the Ninja present freeze.

Within a day, transform quicksand ten meters deep into rock?

How would that even be possible?
Who would do it?
Was the Daimyo going to do it himself?

The Shadow Guard leader found the thought absurd.

The Daimyo he served was the ruler of the Land of Fire, a man of exceptional political acumen, but not a practitioner of Ninjutsu.

What was he planning?

Was this an impossible task meant to test their loyalty? Or was he using it to punish the Ministry of Works?

The Shadow Guard leader couldn't help but speculate.

The Kurokaze leader's thoughts were simpler but sharper.

He also had doubts, but he saw this as a test.

If they hesitated or questioned the order, it would mean the complete eradication of the Kurokaze Clan.

A death sentence.

But there was no choice.

The Kurokaze leader took a deep breath, then suddenly stepped forward, dropping to one knee with determination.

"My Lord!"

"As long as you can do it, even if the Kurokaze Clan must sacrifice our lives, we will build your new city within half a month!"

His voice was resolute.

He didn't know how the Daimyo would achieve it, nor did he need to.

This was an opportunity to prove their loyalty.

As their leader declared his stance, the Kurokaze Ninja behind him immediately followed, kneeling in unison.

"We are willing to die for Daimyo-sama!"

Their unified voices shook the air.

The Shadow Guard leader, who had been hesitating, flinched and cursed himself internally.

Whether this was real or just a test, loyalty was what mattered.

The Kurokaze Clan, remnants once labeled as traitors, understood this better than the elite Shadow Guard themselves.

Cold sweat ran down his back.

He dared not delay another second. He immediately knelt down, head bowed deeply.

"Your subordinate accepts the command!"

"We will surely complete the mission!"

Arashi looked at the two kneeling groups, and a faint thought crossed his mind.

Loyalty sometimes needed to be proven.

He said nothing more, simply turned and walked toward the center of the barren land.

All the Ninja remained kneeling, holding their breath, their eyes fixed on him.

Arashi stopped.

He didn't form any hand seals. He merely lifted his right hand gently, then closed his eyes.

The moment he did, the world seemed to fall silent.

An oppressive force descended from above, and the air itself seemed to groan under its weight.

Then they saw it—a pitch-black sphere forming silently in Arashi's palm.

The Kurokaze Ninja, veterans of countless battles, had seen many forbidden techniques.

But never one that made their very souls tremble.

On the other side, the Shadow Guard leader stood frozen.

As a descendant of the Senju Clan, he was highly attuned to life force.

But the power emanating from this black sphere was vast beyond comprehension.

How can he...?

Before he could finish the thought, Arashi released his hand.

The black sphere drifted downward and merged silently with the earth.

The process was quiet.

One second.
Two seconds.

Nothing happened.

Just as the Shadow Guard leader thought it was merely some illusion technique, the ground began to change.

The Kurokaze leader's eyes widened as the sand beneath Arashi's feet started to darken—

From yellow-brown, to deep brown, then to grayish-black.

"Crack… crunch…"

The sound came from beneath his knees.

He looked down in shock to see the sand hardening beneath him.

It was turning into solid rock.

"This… this is…"

The Shadow Guard leader's mind went blank.

He stared as the sandy earth petrified at incredible speed, spreading outward like a tidal wave.

Wherever it reached, dunes and hollows alike were instantly solidified.

When all was still, the entire area—miles wide and ten meters deep—had transformed completely.

The quicksand had vanished.

In its place was a vast, rocky plain.

A miracle.

A true miracle.

"Ah…"

The Kurokaze leader's jaw dropped, an involuntary sound escaping his throat as his whole body trembled.

He understood now.

There was no test. No hidden motive.

They had been naïve—trying to comprehend the will of one who ruled above all.

He was the Daimyo.
Their sovereign.
A presence that felt less like a man… and more like a god.

And the Kurokaze Clan was fortunate enough to be a tool in the hand of that god.

What greater honor could there be?

When everything was done, Arashi clapped his hands lightly, glanced around, and nodded with satisfaction.

"The foundation is laid," Arashi said calmly. "The rest is up to you."

"Remember, half a month."

He walked in front of the Kurokaze leader.

"Build it well, and the best spot on this land will become the new territory for your clan."

"As for the Shadow Guard…"

His gaze shifted toward the pale-faced Shadow Guard Ninja.

"Do well, and each of you will receive an extra year's salary."

With that, Arashi turned and walked toward the distant carriage.

The carriage slowly started, fading into the horizon.

Only the two groups of Ninja remained, still kneeling, unable to rise for a long time.

The wind howled softly.

After an unknown period, the Kurokaze leader finally moved.

He didn't stand. Instead, he bowed deeply toward the direction Arashi had gone.

Then, lifting his head, his eyes burned with fervor.

"Move!" he roared.

"Half a month! Daimyo-sama gave us half a month! This is grace! This is our chance for rebirth!"

"Everyone, move!"

"Go to the Ministry of Works! Go to the city! Gather every craftsman and all available materials!"

"If we fail to complete this mission, we'll die here to repay Daimyo-sama's kindness!"

His madness ignited the Kurokaze like wildfire.

They leapt up, shouting in unison, their voices shaking the heavens.

"Yes!"

The roar jolted the Shadow Guard leader back to his senses.

Seeing the blazing determination of the Kurokaze, and his own hesitant subordinates, shame burned in his chest.

He pushed himself up and gave his orders sharply.

"Deploy personnel!"

"Team One, cordon off the site immediately!"

"Team Two, go to the Ministry of Works for blueprints and manpower coordination!"

"Team Three, handle external security!"

He paused, his eyes sharp as he looked at his men.

"This is Daimyo-sama's command! We are Shadow Guard. We execute orders!"

"Yes!"

The Shadow Guard, as if waking from a trance, sprang into action.

Inside the Daimyo's manor, in the study, Gen had long been waiting.

After serving Arashi his tea, he reported respectfully.

"My Lord, the Twelve Guardian Ninja have arrived in the Fire Capital. They are currently waiting for your summons at the inn."

Arashi took a slow sip of tea.

"Inform them they don't need to see me."

Gen paused slightly.

Having the newly appointed Twelve Guardian Ninja wait without an audience was strange.

But he didn't question it and bowed. "Yes, My Lord."

Arashi continued, "Send them directly to the construction site in the west of the city."

"Tell them that from today onward, they're responsible for overseeing the progress and safety of the project."

"When the houses are built, I'll see them then."

"Tell them this—"

"I hope they understand something from that construction site."

Gen's brows twitched slightly.

Assigning the Guardian Ninja to guard a construction site?

What kind of order was that?

He quickly suppressed his confusion. His Lord often acted in ways beyond comprehension.

"Yes, My Lord. I'll make the arrangements immediately."

In his mind, this was simply a ruler's way of testing his subordinates.

But in Arashi's heart, this was the first lesson for the entire Shinobi world.

He wanted the Ninja to witness with their own eyes how they could truly serve the Land of Fire.

He wanted them to understand that under Daimyo-sama's rule, a Ninja's value would no longer be measured solely by their ability to kill.

And the Twelve Guardian Ninja were to be the first to learn that lesson.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 54: Our Role Is To Move Bricks?

Fire Capital, inn.

"I say, it's been almost two hours, hasn't it?"

Asuma, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, leaned against the window and lazily watched the street below. "What's the Daimyo playing at? He calls us here, then leaves us sitting?"

His tone was laced with impatience.

He was young after all, not good at waiting.

"Calm down, Asuma."

A peaceful voice came from the corner.

It was Chiriku, the Guardian Monk from the Fire Temple, who had arrived earlier. Clad in his kasaya and holding a Zen staff, he joined his palms together.

"We should not presume to guess the heart of the monarch."

Asuma clicked his tongue but said nothing more, turning his gaze back to the window.

The street outside was overflowing with life.

Merchants, artisans, and Civilians from all across the Land of Fire moved about, their faces tired yet brimming with hope.

In the shops lining the street, wartime luxuries like sugar and silk were displayed openly, sold as if they were ordinary goods.

From time to time, people dressed as Civilians went in to inquire about prices or make purchases.

"This is crazy," Asuma muttered.

He remembered visiting last year with his father. The capital had been prosperous, yes, but nothing like this.

Now the air itself felt charged, vibrant, filled with an energy of growth and ambition.

At the other end of the room, Kazuma and Natsukawa sat by the window, eyes wide in awe as they watched the busy scene outside.

"Natsukawa, look at that butcher shop," Kazuma whispered. "I saw a few Civilians buying half a pig! Are all the people here that rich?"

Hizashi sat silently on the tatami, eyes closed. But through the Byakugan, he observed the city's pulse more clearly than anyone.

The patrols of the city guard were orderly and steady.
The workers in the workshops brimmed with purpose.

Compared to the oppressive air of the Hyuga Clan compound, this place was a different world entirely.

At that moment, the door slid open softly.

A figure appeared in the doorway.

It was a Shadow Guard.

Everyone's attention immediately shifted toward him.

"By order of Daimyo-sama, I am to guide the Twelve Guardian Ninja."

The Shadow Guard displayed his identification tag, his voice calm and even.

"Please, follow me."

Asuma's mood brightened slightly, and he quickly stepped forward. "Who are you? Are we going to meet the Daimyo now?"

"No," the Shadow Guard replied. "Daimyo-sama is not receiving guests today."

At those words, Asuma's brows furrowed instantly.

They had traveled across the Land of Fire, only to not even meet the ruler they were to serve?

The others exchanged uncertain glances. Even Chiriku's usually tranquil expression showed faint confusion.

Only the Uchiha Ninja stood silently, face unreadable.

Since their entire clan had pledged itself to the Daimyo, every order carried meaning. It was not his place to question, only to obey.

"Then where are we going?" Asuma pressed.

"The construction site," came the reply.

The room fell silent.

The construction site?

They were the Twelve Guardian Ninja—the Daimyo's direct elite force, chosen from Konoha's finest.

And he wanted them to go to… a construction site?

To do what?

Move bricks?

Though everyone's hearts were filled with questions, no one dared object.

This was the Daimyo's order.

Perhaps he was waiting for them there.

The group followed the Shadow Guard silently out of the inn and merged into the crowded streets.

As they moved westward, the scenery gradually changed.

The bustling shops and fragrant food stalls gave way to dust, sweat, and the raw smell of earth.

At the end of the road lay a massive construction site.

Thousands of artisans and laborers worked tirelessly, their shouts and hammering forming a symphony of progress.

And there, they saw a sight that left them utterly speechless.

More than a dozen Ninja, working in teams, moved in synchronization, forming hand seals.

"Earth Release: Earth Flow River!"
"Earth Release: Earth Flow Divide!"
"Earth Release: Earth Flow Rampart!"

With each technique, the ground trembled.

The earth flowed like waves, rising, shaping itself into smooth, wide foundations.

Massive earth walls shot up from the ground, forming the skeletal frames of new houses.

One Ninja pressed his palms to the soil, and in mere seconds, the foundations of five houses took shape.

The Twelve stood frozen.

The cigarette slipped from Asuma's mouth, hitting the ground with a dull clatter.

"Ha… haha…"

He let out two hollow laughs, his voice shaking with disbelief. "Is this a joke? Having Jōnin use Earth Release to build walls? What is this, the newest punchline in the Ninja world?"

"I went through years of training, mastered Ninjutsu, to fight for the Will of Fire!"

"Not to become some kind of… super bricklayer!"

To him, this felt like an insult.

The Nara clansman beside him stayed quiet, but his mind raced.

Efficient—this method was unbelievably efficient.

But… what did it mean?

If Ninjutsu could be harnessed for large-scale construction, wouldn't that completely redefine the role and value of Ninja?

Wouldn't it overturn Konoha's mission system and the entire Shinobi economy?

The thought sent chills down his spine.

This Daimyo was far more dangerous than he had imagined.

Hizashi's expression was like ice.

As a member of the Hyuga Branch Family, he understood discipline and hierarchy better than anyone.

To him, Ninjutsu was sacred—an art of battle and protection, a symbol of noble status.

To use that same power for labor? That was desecration.

He couldn't comprehend it.

Kazuma and Natsukawa, however, trembled for a different reason.

Their hearts pounded, eyes shining.

Kazuma's vision blurred as memories flooded back: the leaking roof of his childhood home, his mother's cough echoing in the cold, and the freezing nights when rain seeped through the walls.

If only Ninja had helped them build a house back then…

He didn't understand what Ninja "dignity" meant.

Nor did he care.

He only knew that these powerful men were building homes—homes that could shield people like him from wind and rain.

This was kindness beyond words.

"Amitabha."

Chiriku clasped his hands together, his voice low and reverent.

There was no resistance in his eyes, nor fanaticism, only calm enlightenment.

Killing to protect life, severing karma but not people.

Ninjutsu was a blade, capable of both destruction and creation.

Wasn't this—what stood before them—the truest expression of purpose?

This Daimyo, who ruled with the thunder of authority yet the compassion of a sage, embodied great virtue.

While everyone wrestled with their own thoughts, the Shadow Guard turned toward them.

"Daimyo-sama has given his order."

"From today until the project's completion, you Twelve will oversee the construction's progress."

Asuma's face went rigid.

Even the Uchiha's stoic expression cracked, a faint vein pulsing at his temple.

To have him, an elite of the Uchiha—supervise builders?

This was the 'important duty' they had been summoned for?

Rage surged in his chest, but he swallowed it down.

The Shadow Guard ignored their expressions and continued, "Daimyo-sama also said…"

"He hopes you can understand some principles on this construction site."

"When the buildings are complete, Daimyo-sama will meet you."

With that, his figure blurred and vanished.

Leaving the Twelve Guardian Ninja standing in the dust.

Understand some principles?

Understand what?

To the clan-born elites like Asuma, the words sounded like mockery.

But to Kazuma and Natsukawa, they sounded like revelation.

The wind blew across the site, stirring up clouds of dust.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 55: Super Bricklayers

The construction site was chaotic, and dust filled the air.

"Ugh!"

Asuma, who had just swallowed a mouthful of dust, spat several times in frustration.

Then, gritting his teeth, he turned and kicked the wall that had just been raised with Earth Release.

Bang!

The wall didn't even shake, but the rebound made his foot numb.

That only made him angrier.

"No! I've had enough of this!" he roared. "I'm going to see the Daimyo! I want to ask him to his face what he thinks we are! Foremen?!"

With that, Asuma turned and stormed toward the exit, his Chakra flaring violently.

"Stop."

A cold voice rang out.

Two Ninja dressed in Shadow Guard uniforms appeared in front of him, blocking his path.

"The Daimyo has ordered that you are not to leave until the project is complete," said the leading guard, his tone flat and emotionless.

Asuma's temper instantly boiled over. "Move! I'm one of the Twelve Guardian Ninja, not some prisoner for you to watch!"

His Jōnin-level Chakra erupted, making the dust around him swirl and freeze midair.

Even the loud noise of construction seemed to pause for a moment.

The Kurokaze Ninja and several Shadow Guard performing Earth Release stopped briefly to glance over, then immediately turned back to their work.

It was as if the confrontation wasn't worth their attention.

That sense of being completely ignored made Asuma's fists clench tighter.

"I'll say it again—move!"

He took a step forward, hand gripping the hilt of his Chakra blade at his waist.

The air grew heavy.

The Uchiha Ninja narrowed his eyes, his body tilting slightly as if ready to act.

The Nara clansman, sensing danger, muttered inwardly, This is bad, and prepared to intervene.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Six more figures appeared around Asuma, surrounding him with the first two.

Not only that—on the rooftops and scaffolding, shadowy forms flickered one after another.

It was like a massive net closing in around the entire site.

Eight Shadow Guard surrounded Asuma at close range, with who knew how many more watching from above.

He froze.

He could feel it clearly, one wrong move, and a dozen killing strikes would descend instantly.

The eyes of these Shadow Guard were sharp and cold. They would kill him without hesitation.

Here, the title of Guardian Ninja meant nothing.

The only thing that mattered were three words: Daimyo's order.

"Asuma, stand down!" the Nara clansman called sharply, his tone warning.

Asuma's face turned pale, then red, his chest heaving as he struggled to control his anger. The hand gripping his blade trembled.

Finally, with visible effort, he released his grip.

He turned around, storming back to his place with clenched teeth.

The conflict was defused.

But a heavy silence hung in the air.

Every Ninja from a noble clan felt the same chill sink into their hearts.

They finally understood.

They weren't stationed here—they were being kept here.

Just then, a heated argument broke out on the far side of the site.

"Ninja-sama! Ninja-sama! Please stop!"

A sweating old craftsman ran over, holding a bent steel punch, shouting toward a Shadow Guard who had just completed an Earth Release technique.

The guard frowned, clearly impatient. "What are you yelling about? Can't you see I'm working?"

"You… look at this!" The old craftsman held up the twisted tool, his face anxious. "This wall you made—it's too hard! My steel punch can't even get through! How are we supposed to secure the window frames?!"

The Ninja gave it a quick glance, then replied indifferently, "Hard is good. It means it's strong. If your tools can't handle it, get better tools."

"But… the blueprints clearly require bolt holes here! Without them, we can't install the doors and windows!"

"How should I know about bolt holes? Don't bother me."

"Ninja-sama, if you do this, we can't continue our work!"

"You… fine, fine, tell me how to do it, and I'll change it."

"…"

The scene was fully visible to the Guardian Ninja.

Asuma's jaw tightened, his suppressed anger rising again.

But this time, he didn't explode. He just gave a cold snort.

The Nara clansman, however, frowned even deeper.

This was only the beginning.

Soon, more voices erupted across the site.

"Hey! Ninja-sama! The measurements are wrong!"

A middle-aged foreman ran up, holding a carpenter's ruler, gesturing angrily toward another wall.

"The blueprint says exactly three meters here! But this wall, three meters and one centimeter on one end, two meters and ninety-nine on the other! That's off by two centimeters! How am I supposed to fit the prefabricated beams?!"

The Kurokaze Ninja scratched his head, confused. "Two centimeters? That's nothing, just the width of two fingers."

"It's not nothing!" the foreman shouted, almost spitting on him. "These are houses for people to live in, not mud walls for you to play with!"

"Even a single centimeter off means the beam won't sit properly! In a storm, it'll collapse! People could die! Do you understand?!"

The Kurokaze Ninja's Chakra wavered from frustration.

Crack!

A jagged fissure split across the wall.

"Oh my god!"

The foreman let out a wail, nearly collapsing to his knees. "It's ruined!"

The Kurokaze Ninja's face turned pale, his eyes burning with barely restrained killing intent.

But he swallowed it down.

He knew what would happen if the construction fell behind schedule or if the craftsmen were driven away.

The Daimyo's punishment would be far worse.

Gritting his teeth, he forced the words out. "Tear it down. Start over."

Similar arguments flared up all across the site, like a string of firecrackers.

The power of Ninjutsu and the precision of craftsmanship clashed head-on.

Ninjutsu that could decide life and death on the battlefield couldn't even ensure proper building dimensions here.

The Ninja who could split the earth with ease were helpless before the measurements on a blueprint.

They could build walls stronger than stone,
But forgot to leave spaces for windows and doors.

They could raise a ten-meter wall in minutes,
But couldn't keep it straight—it leaned like it might collapse any moment.

The entire site descended into chaotic absurdity.

Efficiency was astonishing, but the rework rate was even higher.

Watching the scene, Asuma's face twisted with fury.

He crushed the cigarette in his hand to dust.

"This is a joke!" he roared. "We're Ninja! Konoha's elite! Not a bunch of glorified bricklayers!"

"Did the Daimyo bring us here just to make us watch this circus?!"

"This is an insult!"

His voice wasn't loud, but every Ninja nearby heard it clearly.

The Inuzuka Ninja scratched at his ninken's fur irritably, the dog whining in response.

The Uchiha's expression darkened.

Clearly, Asuma had voiced what everyone else was thinking.

Their Ninjutsu wasn't meant for this. It was meant to kill enemies, not dig dirt.

But in the heavy silence that followed, a quiet voice broke through.

"Asuma-sama… I don't think this is an insult."

The voice was faint, yet every word was crystal clear.

(To be continued.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 56: The Daimyo’s True Intention

Everyone froze.

Who?

Who dared to speak up against them at a time like this?

Asuma turned sharply toward the source of the voice.

It was Kazuma.

He stood a short distance away, his expression slightly nervous, yet his eyes shone with unwavering brightness.

Asuma raised an eyebrow, his tone losing its usual warmth.

"Oh? Then what do you think this is? Glory?"

Kazuma's lips trembled slightly under Asuma's sharp gaze, but he nodded and spoke firmly.

"Yes! I think it's glory!"

He pointed toward the construction site, his voice quivering but resolute.

"I… I grew up in a shantytown outside the Village. Our house had gaps on all sides, and whenever it rained, my mother would cough all night."

"For me, having a roof that doesn't leak was the dream my father chased his entire life."

He looked at the others, his voice growing stronger, eyes burning.

"You might not understand, but to you, this is just dirt and stone."

"But to countless Civilians across the Land of Fire—people like me—"

"Every wall built here is a home that shields us from the wind and rain!"

"It's a place where children can sleep peacefully, without waking up shivering in the cold!"

"With Ninjutsu, we can accomplish in a day what Civilians can't do in a lifetime!"

"Isn't that a greater glory than completing an S-rank mission?!"

His words rang across the site, firm and passionate.

Silence followed.

Behind him, Natsukawa nodded vigorously, his eyes glistening red.

Even Great Master Chiriku turned his head slightly, offering Kazuma a faint, approving look.

But Asuma scoffed.

"That sounds nice."

He walked up to Kazuma, standing a full head taller, his presence heavy and suffocating.

"Don't forget who you are, Kazuma."

"You're a Ninja."

"A Ninja's duty is battle. Killing. Our Ninjutsu exists to take lives, not to mix mud and build walls!"

"Your sentimental speeches mean nothing on a real battlefield!"

"I…" Kazuma's voice caught in his throat, face flushing with frustration.

"What 'I'?" Asuma pressed, eyes narrowing. "Put away those foolish thoughts. Civilians need protection, yes—but not by building them houses."

"You stand here because of Konoha's grace. You should be thinking of how to serve the Village, not pitying laborers!"

Kazuma's eyes flashed. "So you'd rather die fighting than build homes for them?"

"Of course!" Asuma sneered. "Civilians should stay in their place and not bother us!"

"No! It shouldn't be like that!"

Kazuma suddenly raised his head, his fear burning away in anger.

"If you refuse to do even this small thing, then how can anyone believe you'd give your life for others?!"

"You…!"

Asuma's rage exploded. He grabbed Kazuma by the collar, his Chakra surging violently.

"A brat from a Civilian family dares to lecture me?!"

"Stop!"

A cold voice cut through the tension.

A figure appeared between them in an instant.

A single hand caught Asuma's wrist, effortlessly stopping him.

It was Hyuga Hizashi.

Those pure white Byakugan stared directly into Asuma's eyes, and a crushing force emanated from his grip.

"Let him go," Hizashi said calmly.

At the same time, the Nara clansman stepped forward and placed a firm hand on Asuma's shoulder.

"Asuma, enough."

"If you continue, you'll bring trouble to Konoha."

"Don't forget, we're here representing the Daimyo's will."

The word Konoha hit Asuma like cold water.

Before they had departed, his father had clearly explained the Village's situation.

No matter how rebellious he was, he understood priorities.

Asuma's face flushed red, then pale. He finally released Kazuma's collar, glaring at him before turning away in silence.

The immediate tension eased, but the divide among the Twelve Guardian Ninja had already begun to form.

Kazuma straightened his clothes, bowing deeply to Hizashi and the Nara clansman.

Hizashi nodded slightly and returned to his spot, closing his eyes as if nothing had happened.

The Nara clansman, however, kept his gaze on Kazuma, deep in thought.

What exactly was the Daimyo trying to show them?

His mind churned.

Ninja.
Civilian.
Ninjutsu.
Construction.

Words that seemed unrelated began connecting in his mind.

Why? Why had the Daimyo brought them here to witness this?

Suddenly, his whole body stiffened, a spark of realization flashing like lightning.

He understood.

The Daimyo's purpose—he finally understood it!

A cold sweat broke across his back as the revelation overturned everything he'd believed.

Hizashi, noticing his reaction, opened his eyes sharply.

The intelligence of the Nara Clan was known throughout Konoha.

If he looked like that, it could only mean one thing—he'd seen through the Daimyo's plan.

Hizashi stepped forward, voice low and steady.

"What did you realize?"

The Nara clansman took a slow, shaky breath.

"I think I understand… the true intention of Daimyo-sama placing us here."

His words instantly drew everyone's attention.

Even Asuma, who had stormed off, turned back with a frown.

"What intention?"

"Think about it," the Nara clansman began, voice deep and deliberate. "Why did Daimyo-sama reactivate the Twelve Guardian Ninja, and then transfer us all the way from Konoha…?"

"Was it just to make us stand here as construction supervisors?"

Asuma frowned. Of course, he'd been thinking the same thing.

Hizashi remained silent, though unease flickered in his eyes.

The Nara clansman continued, his tone quickening.

"It doesn't make sense. It's completely illogical!"

"Look at those Ninja working there. In loyalty and execution, they're far superior to us."

"If the goal was just supervision, they could handle it better than we ever could."

"But Daimyo-sama specifically brought us here… made us wait, say nothing, and just watch."

"He's not humiliating us."

"He's teaching us."

"Teaching us?"

Asuma frowned deeper. "What do you mean? Explain clearly."

"Think about it," the Nara clansman said, his voice gaining momentum. "What defines a Ninja's worth?"

"In Konoha, our value lies in mission ranks, in the number of enemies we've killed, in preserving our clan's bloodline."

"But here, in the Fire Capital, in Daimyo-sama's eyes…"

"It's not about missions or killing enemies!"

He pointed toward the bustling construction site.

"What did he make us witness? He showed us that we, these so-called elite Ninja with all our powerful Earth Release techniques, can't even align the measurements of a single wall!"

"He made us see how craftsmen struggle because of our arrogance and lack of skill."

"He's showing us—clearly, brutally—"

The Nara clansman swallowed hard, his voice trembling with awe.

"He wants us to see how inefficient, how clumsy, how utterly useless our proud killing techniques are in building a nation!"

"What he's breaking is not our bodies…"

"It's the arrogance deeply carved into our hearts as Ninja!"

Silence.

No one spoke.

The Nara clansman took another deep breath, then continued, voice firm and reverent.

"He wants to reshape our values. To make us realize that the true power of a Ninja lies in bringing unmatched efficiency to this country, an efficiency no ordinary person could ever reach."

"In infrastructure, transportation, medicine, agriculture—anywhere Chakra can be applied!"

"These are the true S-rank missions in Daimyo-sama's eyes!"

"And we, the Twelve Guardian Ninja, are the first examples he's using to transform the entire Ninja world!"

"This test isn't about our strength."

"It's about whether we…"

He took one final breath and spoke his conclusion clearly.

"…can cast aside our foolish pride, understand his will, and adapt to the new order he is creating!"

By the time he finished, sweat soaked his back.

No one said a word.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 57: Infrastructure Is the Way

Nara Enmaru's words struck the Konoha elites like a bolt of lightning.

The Uchiha Ninja's eyes widened in sudden realization.

He finally understood.

So the Clan Head's bold gamble wasn't about political favor or court intrigue at all.

It was about whether the Uchiha Clan could become the first builders of the new order.

Hizashi lowered his gaze and spread out his calloused palms.

These were hands that could unleash the Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms at any moment.

Caged Bird. Restraint. Rules.

How similar they all were.

But the seal placed upon him by the Main Family was meant to confine the Branch Family for the sake of preserving the Hyuga Clan.

While the restrictions the Daimyo imposed on all Ninja… were meant to build an entire nation.

The irony was cruel. The cage of the Hyuga Main Family had suffocated him, filled him with despair.

But the Daimyo's "rules" made him… see a different possibility.

A possibility where Neji would never have to bear the cursed seal of the Caged Bird.

Not far away, Asuma leaned against a wall, watching silently.

He had heard every word Enmaru spoke.

Absurd—that was his first thought.

He wanted to refute it, to mock it as mere nonsense.

But when he opened his mouth, no words came out.

Because those words explained everything that had seemed unreasonable up until now.

The Daimyo wasn't playing games with them.

He was rewriting the rules of the Ninja World itself.

And they, the so-called Twelve Guardian Ninja, hadn't even realized what game they were in.

The site grew quiet again.

Enmaru looked across the chaotic construction zone, a faint, bitter smile tugging at his lips.

"This is an exam," he said softly. "And not only did we fail to understand the questions—we almost tore up the test paper."

He straightened, his voice firm.

"Everyone, we can't sit around any longer."

"We're Ninja, so let's solve this the way Ninja should!"

"We need to hand Daimyo-sama a satisfactory answer sheet!"

The Ino–Shika–Chō trio reacted first, their trust in the Nara Clan instinctive.

"Enmaru, tell us what to do!"

"Yeah, we'll follow your lead!"

Kazuma and Natsukawa hurried over as well, their faces lit with excitement.

They didn't fully understand what "new order" or "instruction" meant, but they understood the last part.

Use Ninja methods to solve the problem.

Submit an answer worthy of Daimyo-sama.

This was exactly the kind of challenge they'd been waiting for.

The Uchiha Ninja didn't speak, but he stepped forward silently, his actions showing his agreement.

Hizashi slowly opened his eyes, his Byakugan gleaming.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked calmly.

Enmaru looked at the companions now gathered around him, his confidence solidifying.

At least now, they were united.

As for Asuma, who still stood sulking in the corner, and the few others who hesitated, he didn't have time to worry about them.

"Good."

He nodded sharply. "The problems come down to two points: precision and coordination."

"Ninjutsu is powerful, but too crude, causing major measurement errors."

"And there's no effective communication between Ninja and craftsmen, leading to chaos and constant rework."

He exhaled deeply. "So our real task…"

"…is not to build walls—but to act as the central processors of this entire construction site!"

He pointed toward Hizashi and the Uchiha Ninja.

"Step one, measurement and calibration!"

"Hizashi, Natsume, your ocular Ninjutsu are the most precise rulers here. Use the blueprints as reference, check every dimension across the site, and mark all deviations down to the millimeter!"

"No problem."

Both men nodded in unison.

They exchanged glances, and a subtle spark of rivalry passed between their eyes.

The next moment—

"Byakugan!"

"Sharingan!"

Two pairs of legendary eyes activated simultaneously.

Hizashi's vision penetrated the haze of dust and structure, laying out the entire construction site clearly in his mind.

Meanwhile, Uchiha Natsume's Sharingan rotated steadily, duplicating the data and blueprints perfectly and comparing them against reality to the millimeter.

Enmaru turned toward the Yamanaka Ninja next.

"Step two, communication! Ryo, you'll serve as the information hub!"

"Transmit the corrected measurements directly to the Ninja handling construction."

"Understood!"

Yamanaka Ryo sat cross-legged and quickly formed hand seals. His mental energy expanded outward, creating a network of precise point-to-point telepathic links, over a dozen in total, connecting all the key operators on-site.

"Step three, coordination!"

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

Bang!

A clone of Enmaru appeared beside him.

"The main body will handle overall command, while the clone will communicate with craftsmen, integrate their input, and adjust the plan as needed."

"Step four, execution!"

He looked to the Akimichi and Inuzuka clansmen.

"Hayama, Ri, you'll lead your teams to supervise the quality of each stage and ensure the plan is followed exactly!"

"Woof!" Ri's Ninja dog barked excitedly, tail wagging.

And with that, the first true Ninja construction unit was born.

The energy across the entire site changed instantly.

"Hey! You there, with the Earth Release! That wall's crooked—shift it one inch to the right and reinforce it with Hardening Jutsu!"

A Shadow Guard performing Earth Release paused briefly, received the telepathic correction, and immediately adjusted.

The site was no longer a chaotic display of random Ninjutsu.

It became a battlefield of precision and coordination.

Hizashi stood on a high scaffold, his Byakugan scanning the entire operation—no deviation escaped his sight.

Natsume moved swiftly across the ground, his Sharingan capturing every dynamic change in real time.

Enmaru's clone sprinted between craftsmen and Ninja, jotting notes and adjusting the plan with sweat pouring down his face.

Yamanaka Ryo sat still as a statue, his mental network glowing faintly as countless pieces of data passed through his mind.

Akimichi Hayama activated Partial Expansion Jutsu, effortlessly lifting massive pre-fabricated beams into perfect position.

Inuzuka Ri, Aburame Fushimi, Kurama Narumi, Kazuma, Natsukawa, and Chiriku all joined in.

"Foundation in Area B has sunk by two millimeters! Reinforce with Rock Pillar Jutsu!"

"The window frame is one centimeter too tight! Use Earth Release: Cutting Jutsu to expand it!"

"The craftsmen report the load-bearing wall density must reach Grade 3! Increase Chakra output slightly!"

"The carpentry team's moving in! All walls in Area C must be finished within ten minutes!"

The craftsmen, who had earlier been exasperated by the Ninja's clumsiness, now stood frozen in awe.

They watched these Ninja, through methods they could barely comprehend, turn the once chaotic construction site into a perfectly synchronized, high-speed machine.

Efficiency soared more than tenfold.

Rework rate—zero.

The frustration and helplessness in the craftsmen's eyes were replaced by excitement and admiration.

This—this was what a Ninja truly was.

So Ninjutsu could be used for something like this!

Asuma's expression had turned blank.

He looked around the site, now filled with rhythm and life, saw the smiles on the craftsmen's faces, the excitement in Kazuma's and the others' eyes—even as they were covered in dust.

For the first time, he began to waver.

Maybe… Enmaru was right after all.

…

Inside the Daimyo Manor study.

Gen respectfully presented a scroll just delivered by a Ninja dog to Arashi.

Unrolling it, Arashi skimmed the report of the Guardian Ninja's actions, and a faint smile appeared on his face.

This—this was the true use of Ninja.

To not use them for infrastructure would be a waste.

As for Asuma's resistance, it was all within his expectations.

If anything, it only solidified his resolve to seize control of the Will of Fire's meaning itself.

"Announce it," Arashi said calmly.

"Enmaru and Kazuma will each have their monthly stipend increased by ten percent."

"Also, inform the kitchens to provide additional meals for everyone on the construction site."

"Let them eat well."

"Yes, my Lord." Gen bowed deeply and withdrew.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 58: The New Will of Fire Begins to Sprout

The clamor of the construction site was no longer chaotic.

Under Enmaru's command, every person and every Ninjutsu moved like precise cogs in a machine.

From atop a vertical Earth Release wall, Hizashi observed each site through his Byakugan.

His voice, transmitted through Yamanaka Ryo's mental link, delivered the most accurate instructions.

"Sector Seven, the earthen wall needs to shift three centimeters to the left. Adjust it with a softening Ninjutsu."

"Uchiha, load-bearing pillar number three in Zone B has a 0.5-degree vertical deviation. Please recheck it."

On the ground, the Uchiha ninja obeyed immediately, his three-tomoe Sharingan spinning rapidly as he compared the structure against the blueprints.

He turned to the Kurokaze ninja performing the Earth Release. "The soil hardening isn't enough. Increase your Chakra output."

"Understood!"

Hyuga and Uchiha, one above and one below, one still and one moving, worked together seamlessly as if they had trained side by side for years.

The craftsmen, who had initially been frustrated with the ninjas' interference, were now the most relaxed of all.

They only needed to install doors, windows, rebar, and other components according to the pre-drilled holes and dimensions once the Ninjutsu shaping was done.

An old craftsman with a grizzled beard watched as house frames rose from the earth before him, his hands trembling slightly.

He had been a bricklayer his entire life.

From apprentice to master, leading a dozen workers, toiling from dawn till dusk, he could at most complete two small houses in a month.

But now… he looked up, and as far as his eyes could see, the foundations and main structures of thirty houses were already standing.

How long had it been?

Just one morning.

Complex emotions welled up inside the old man.

A coworker shouted, "Don't just stand there! Move! The window frames over there are ready for installation!"

"Hey! Coming, coming!"

The old craftsman quickly jogged to join them, his enthusiasm burning brighter than in his youth.

The entire construction site buzzed with vigorous life.

Except for one person.

Sarutobi Asuma.

An air of solitude surrounded him, setting him apart from everyone else.

He couldn't understand.

Why were Hizashi and the Uchiha, proud elites from noble clans, doing this kind of work so willingly?

Where was their pride?

Where was the Uchiha's arrogance?

What happened to the rigid rules of the Hyuga Branch Family?

And those Ino–Shika–Chō guys, running around covered in dust, looking utterly satisfied—what was wrong with them?

They were crazy. All of them.

Asuma irritably stubbed out his cigarette, crushed it, and tossed it aside.

He admitted that Kazuma had a point.

He admitted that what was happening before his eyes was indeed remarkable.

But this shouldn't be a ninja's job.

Ninjas were meant to shine on the battlefield, to earn their glory through blood and combat.

This wasn't right.

Something was wrong.

As he simmered in frustration, a delicious aroma drifted through the air.

It was the smell of meat, mixed with the sweet scent of rice and the rich savor of sauce.

Asuma's stomach growled loudly.

Only then did he realize it was lunchtime.

Several large dining carts were pushed into the site.

When the insulated compartments were opened, steaming barrels of food were revealed.

The dishes weren't luxurious, but the portions were generous.

"Lunchtime!"

At the foreman's call, the craftsmen cheered, dropped their tools, and rushed over with their bowls.

"My goodness, what's the occasion? The food's amazing today!"

"Daimyo-sama took pity on our hard work and ordered extra food for us!"

"Long live Daimyo-sama!"

"Look, that's pork! I haven't had any in half a month!"

The craftsmen lined up, each bowl piled high, faces beaming with satisfaction.

Enmaru's team also stopped working, exhausted to the point of barely standing, leaning on each other as they walked over.

Seeing the food, Akimichi Hayama's eyes lit up.

"Wow! Meat! Meat! Meat! I feel alive again!"

He charged forward first, his appetite so great that the servers' wrists ached from serving him.

The others followed with smiles.

Even Hizashi's usually calm face softened at the sight of the steaming food.

He took two portions and called up toward the tower, "Natsume, come down and eat."

Uchiha Natsume responded immediately and descended with a few flickers of movement.

The two sat quietly to the side, eating in silence.

Then, Enmaru approached Asuma with two meal trays.

"Have some," he said, offering one.

Asuma turned away coldly. "I'm not hungry."

"Grrr…"

His stomach's protest made the moment awkward.

Enmaru didn't seem to mind. He sat beside Asuma, picked up his chopsticks, and began eating leisurely.

He didn't try to persuade him, only said calmly, "I know what you're thinking."

"You think it's a waste for us, Hyuga with Byakugan and Uchiha with Sharingan, to do this kind of work."

"You think a ninja's glory should be earned on the battlefield, drenched in enemy blood."

Enmaru's tone was soft, as if he were merely stating facts.

"Isn't it?!" Asuma snapped, his voice edged with anger. "We are Konoha's sword and shield, not craftsmen! Don't you think it's ridiculous for Jonin to be building walls?!"

Enmaru picked up a piece of meat, chewed slowly, and swallowed before replying.

"Asuma, do you remember that extermination mission on the border of the Land of Grass last autumn?"

"Of course I do. Why bring that up?"

Enmaru continued, "After the mission, we passed through a small village and got caught in a heavy rainstorm."

"Half of that village was destroyed by a flash flood."

"Both your squad and ours saw it—the mother crying in despair, holding her child's lifeless body."

Asuma's breath caught. The memory resurfaced vividly.

Enmaru's gaze sharpened. "Tell me, Asuma."

"To that mother, does it matter whether her child was killed by an enemy ninja or crushed in a collapsing house?"

"…" Asuma had no answer.

"There's no difference," Enmaru said for him. "The result is the same—broken families, shattered lives."

"One killer is visible."

"The other is invisible, like natural disasters."

"We go to the battlefield to eliminate the visible enemies with Ninjutsu."

"And now, here, we use the same Ninjutsu to eliminate the invisible ones."

He pointed to the sturdy houses standing before them.

"These houses will protect tens of thousands of people from wind, rain, and floods for decades."

"Every drop of sweat we shed here will save more lives than the enemies we cut down."

Enmaru sighed softly. "So, Asuma, this isn't a contradiction."

"Fighting on the battlefield is protection."

"Building houses here is also protection."

"It's just a different battlefield, with a different kind of enemy."

He paused, then glanced toward the Daimyo Manor. "Maybe this is what Daimyo-sama wanted us to understand."

Asuma's mind buzzed. He was completely stunned.

Enmaru picked up his chopsticks again. "Don't think too hard."

Chewing his food, he muttered, "Daimyo-sama just showed us another way to defeat the enemy for those of us too used to cutting people down."

"And… the food here is really good."

With that, he focused on his meal.

Asuma stood frozen, Enmaru's words echoing in his mind.

A different battlefield, a different kind of enemy.

Just then, a soft sound, mixed with a gasp, interrupted his thoughts.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 59: Asuma’s Change

"Ouch!"

Asuma turned his head. Not far away, an old craftsman's toolbox had fallen to the ground, scattering tools everywhere.

A sharp chisel happened to fly toward a young craftsman nearby.

The young man was still wolfing down his food, completely unaware.

The chisel was about to strike his foot.

Asuma's body moved faster than his mind.

His finger twitched instinctively.

Whoosh!

A kunai shot out, striking the side of the chisel with perfect precision.

Clink!

The chisel was deflected, changing direction, and plunged into the mud beside the craftsman's straw sandal.

The entire sequence happened in an instant.

Startled by the sound, the young craftsman looked down.

A chisel was embedded in the ground, almost touching his foot, with a kunai beside it.

His face went pale.

He looked up in shock, just in time to see a cool-looking ninja with a cigarette in his mouth standing a short distance away.

He didn't fully understand what had happened, but he wasn't stupid.

He knew that the hard-to-approach ninja-sama had saved him.

After a few seconds of dazed silence, he ran toward Asuma, still clutching his rice bowl, his face filled with lingering fear.

As Asuma looked on in confusion, the craftsman suddenly bowed deeply and said, "Sir! Thank you, sir! Thank you for saving my life!"

He wasn't educated, and this was the only way he knew how to show gratitude.

Asuma was caught off guard by his deep bow, stepping back slightly, his brows furrowed.

"There's no need for that. It was nothing."

His tone was sharp, with a trace of irritation.

He was used to battlefield honors, the Hokage's commendations, and his comrades' admiration.

But he had never been thanked so earnestly by a civilian for such a trivial act.

This feeling was strange.

Extremely strange.

It wasn't the thrill of heroism or the satisfaction of victory.

It was an unfamiliar emotion that left him uneasy.

The craftsman, frightened by his tone, didn't bow again, but his gaze remained sincere.

"To me, it's a life-saving grace! If my foot were crippled, my wife and children wouldn't survive!"

"Thank you, sir!"

Looking into those earnest eyes, Asuma's chest tightened.

His lips moved, but only one word came out.

"...Move."

"Yes, sir!"

The craftsman bowed once more and quickly ran off.

Asuma ran his hand through his hair, leaning against a stone pillar. But he could no longer find that sense of detachment he had before.

Enmaru, who was nearby, watched everything with a faint smile and said nothing.

He stood up slowly and left, leaving behind the untouched meal tray.

The food was still steaming, releasing an enticing aroma.

Grrr...

Asuma's stomach rumbled again, louder than before.

He buried his head in his arms, trying to block out the smell.

He was Sarutobi Asuma, son of the Third Hokage, a Jōnin of Konoha, and one of the Twelve Guardian Ninja.

How could he...

Yet Enmaru's words kept echoing in his mind.

"One of those who kills them is a visible enemy."

"The other is an invisible enemy."

"Building houses here is also a form of guarding."

Guarding...

Asuma instinctively looked at his hands.

The lines on his palms were clearly visible.

These were the hands of a ninja.

Hands that had used Ninjutsu to tear open enemies' throats.

Hands that had wielded Chakra blades to end lives.

Every completed mission brought generous rewards, praise from comrades, and records of merit for the village.

That was what he had always been proud of.

His glory as a ninja.

But just now, those same hands had simply thrown a kunai.

No killing intent, no calculation.

Only to stop an accident.

And in return, he received a clumsy but sincere thank you.

"To me, it's a life-saving grace!"

That expression of gratitude made him more unsettled than any Genjutsu he had ever faced.

The weight of that thank you was light, but when it landed on his heart, it felt unbearably heavy.

He suddenly realized that the glory he once chased felt strangely hollow now.

Achievements and rewards earned from killing enemies.

And saving a single civilian, earning only a thank you.

Which one was the Will of Fire his father had always spoken of?

Asuma's mind was in turmoil.

He remembered the argument he had with his father before leaving the village.

"The village has become like this, and you don't care at all?!"

"Asuma, you still see things too superficially."

His father's expression back then was weary, but there was also a kind of relief he hadn't understood.

Now, he seemed to understand a little.

He looked up at the bustling construction site.

Hizashi stood high above, his voice carried to every corner by the Yamanaka clan's secret jutsu.

Uchiha Natsume moved swiftly on the ground, his Sharingan spinning as he checked every detail.

Akimichi Hayama used Partial Multi-Size Jutsu to lift and place a crossbeam, drawing cheers from the craftsmen.

Kazuma and Natsukawa ran tirelessly, their Ninjutsu not flashy but used precisely where needed.

Everyone was covered in dust, drenched in sweat.

Yet on their faces shone a light Asuma had never seen before.

They were using their strength to transform barren land into homes for tens of thousands of people.

They were indeed guarding.

In a way he had never imagined.

And what about himself?

Since coming here, besides complaining, getting angry, and that unintentional act earlier, what else had he done?

A surge of shame, mixed with hunger, rose from his stomach to his head.

Asuma's cheeks felt hot.

He felt like a complete fool.

An idiot clinging to old ideals, blind to the new world before him.

Grumble...

His stomach protested again, louder this time.

This time, Asuma didn't suppress it.

As if making a decision, he suddenly grabbed the meal tray.

His movements were rough, like he was venting on himself.

He picked up his chopsticks, seized the largest piece of meat, and shoved it straight into his mouth.

The food, though ordinary, tasted delicious.

A flavor unmatched even by the Hokage's special meals or the Akimichi clan's BBQ Q.

He no longer hesitated and devoured the food quickly.

Large mouthfuls of rice and juicy meat...

He ate fast, as if trying to make up for everything he had missed.

Like a storm, he cleared the tray, scraping every bit of sauce with rice.

Only after a satisfied burp did Asuma exhale deeply.

His stomach felt warm, a gentle heat spreading through his limbs and washing away his frustration.

He leaned back against the pillar, rubbing his slightly full stomach.

Now he understood.

The reason this meal tasted so good wasn't because of the chef's skill.

It was because this was the first meal he had earned without killing.

Guarding.

Even if it was just for a brief moment.

He had eaten this meal with a deep sense of peace.

A peace that made him feel more secure than any bounty from an S-rank mission.

Asuma stood up, dusted himself off, and didn't return to his lonely corner.

He walked toward the construction site.

He wanted to feel it for himself.

The weight of this guarding.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 60: To Hell With Fate

Fire Capital.

Inside the Daimyo's manor, the air was warm and filled with laughter.

A small banquet was underway.

There were no high-ranking court officials present, only Arashi's most trusted confidants, those who had followed him long before he gained power.

Arashi held a wine cup, smiling as he watched them.

Their faces were flushed from drinking, their words slurred as they boasted about old glories.

Everything felt like the old days, gathered around a fire in that small courtyard, plotting in secret.

Joking, scolding, carefree.

Yet Arashi clearly sensed that something was different.

When his gaze swept over them, the boasting would quiet.

Their smiles, though familiar, carried awe.

Once, they had been comrades in the same boat.

Now, he was the ruler, and they were his subordinates.

An invisible chasm separated them.

Perhaps this was what it meant to be a lonely sovereign.

To gain supreme power was also to bear the solitude that came with it.

This fleeting reflection was soon brushed aside.

For Arashi, it was only an idle thought after a good meal.

His mind drifted elsewhere.

He thought of the Guardian Ninja he had sent to the construction site.

On a whim, he had assigned a group of proud elite ninja to oversee the work.

He wondered if this casual decision might change them.

Perhaps it would. Perhaps it wouldn't.

It didn't matter.

If it succeeded, it would be a pleasant surprise.

If not, it would cost nothing.

He knew well that trimming a few branches could not change the tree itself.

What he truly cared about was the Genius Cultivation Program.

He would use this funding to firmly bind Konoha's next generation.

From the moment they were blank slates, he would carve his mark into their hearts.

He would redefine the Will of Fire.

He wanted to tell them.

Konoha's future ninja would no longer fight to protect only the Village, or vague ideals of glory and bonds.

They would protect Daimyo-sama, the Land of Fire, and the millions of people living on this soil.

That was his true intention.

As he thought of this, Arashi's gaze deepened.

By his calculations, next year Minato and Kushina would die in the Nine-Tails' attack.

After that, the Uchiha clan would face annihilation.

Should he change that fate?

If he did, he could save lives, but the consequences would ripple unpredictably.

If he didn't...

Arashi stared into the swirling wine in his cup, his eyes thoughtful.

If he let events unfold, the Uchiha would be destroyed, and Sasuke would be forged into a blade of vengeance.

The Nine-Tails' attack would also give him an unexpected advantage.

Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke—he needed only to guide them slightly. They could become his spear and his shield.

A living, beloved Fourth Hokage was far less useful than a dead hero.

A unified, powerful Uchiha clan was far less convenient than a single heir consumed by revenge.

That was the simplest, most efficient path.

To conform to fate, and then reap the rewards.

Arashi's fingers tapped against the table.

The laughter in the hall quieted.

He ignored it, a mocking smile touching his lips.

He was mocking fate—and mocking himself for thinking so coldly.

Efficiency? Tools?

That was the mindset of a craftsman.

He was the Daimyo.

The ruler of a nation.

He should not be content with merely using existing tools.

A true nation should not be built on tragedies carefully orchestrated by design.

It should stand upon the devotion of its people.

Besides, following fate was far too boring.

Arashi looked at his reflection in the cup, his interest rekindled.

If he twisted this fate and made it play out differently... that would be much more interesting.

Once that thought took root, all hesitation vanished.

His smile softened again.

He raised his cup, his clear voice cutting through the noise.

"Come, gentlemen."

Everyone lifted their glasses, eyes fixed on him.

Arashi looked at those who had followed him to this day, speaking clearly.

"To our future—filled with endless possibilities. Cheers."

He drank in one smooth motion.

Meanwhile.

At Konoha's outpost on the Kumo border.

After half a month of drought, a sudden downpour drenched the land.

Raindrops as large as beans struck the tents with a sharp pattering sound.

Cracked earth turned to mud, the air heavy with the scent of soil and blood.

Unlike the laughter in the Fire Capital, this place was steeped in the stench of death.

Jiraiya stood atop the watchtower, rain streaming down his face.

The legendary Sannin had none of his usual carefree demeanor now.

Suddenly, a shout rose from below.

"Jiraiya-sama! The relief troops from the Village have arrived!"

The voice pierced through the rain and echoed through the camp.

Jiraiya's eyes lit up instantly.

He leapt down, landing heavily in the mud, splashing dirt everywhere.

The arrival of the relief team meant that the exhausted ninja who had fought for nearly a year could finally return home.

The camp erupted in cheers.

"That's great! We can finally go back!"

"Hahaha, my wife wrote that my son can already run. I need to hug him tight when I get home!"

"First thing I'll do is eat three bowls of Ichiraku Ramen!"

Countless ninja rushed from their tents into the rain, faces alight with joy.

Those whose rotation had not yet come could only look on enviously.

Jiraiya smiled at the sight, warmth flickering in his eyes.

He strode toward the camp gate to greet his comrades.

When he saw who was leading the relief unit, he froze.

"Shikaku? Choza? Inoichi? Fugaku?"

The current clan heads of the Ino–Shika–Chō and the Uchiha clans—old comrades from his generation.

Nara Shikaku smiled wryly. "This weather feels like we're in Ame."

They had departed right after the cultivation funds were distributed.

The journey had been clear and sunny, yet as they arrived, the rain had drenched them completely.

Akimichi Choza waved cheerfully, his usual warm smile in place.

Inoichi and Fugaku both nodded at Jiraiya.

"Why did you come in person?" Jiraiya clapped Shikaku and the others on the shoulder. "You could have sent any Jonin for this kind of mission."

Fugaku chuckled. "I brought my son to see the world."

Jiraiya's gaze shifted downward.

Behind Fugaku stood a small figure in Uchiha attire, standing silently in the rain.

"Are you insane? He's only four years old!" Jiraiya's voice hardened. "This is the Kumo border!"

"Uchiha children don't need to grow up in a greenhouse," Fugaku replied, then looked down at his son. "Itachi, greet Jiraiya-sama."

Little Itachi lifted his face to the legendary Sannin and said politely, "Hello, Jiraiya-sama."

His tone was calm, his voice still carrying the softness of a child.

"...Hello," Jiraiya answered, his voice quiet. He didn't press further. It wasn't his place to question another father.

He turned to the others. "And what about you?"

Shikaku sighed. "Too many things are happening in the Village. The three of us came out to avoid the noise."

Jiraiya frowned slightly, feeling something off. But now wasn't the time to discuss it.

He laughed, throwing an arm around Shikaku's shoulder. "Whatever the reason, I'm glad you're here!"

"Tonight, I'll host a banquet—both a welcome for you and a farewell for those heading home!"

The banquet was lively, laughter echoing long into the night.

Later that night, when the camp had gone quiet, Jiraiya sat awake in his tent.

The reports from Konoha haunted his mind.

The Daimyo's moves had gone far beyond his expectations.

He wanted to discuss it, but even Shikaku had left the Village to avoid the chaos, proof that things had grown dire.

He wanted to return to Konoha to see for himself, but he couldn't abandon his post. As the commander at the front lines, leaving without authorization was impossible.

Frustration gnawed at him. He paced inside his tent, but the more he thought, the heavier his thoughts became.

A sense of powerlessness pressed down on him.

"No... I must go to Mount Myōboku."

He would ask the Great Toad Sage. Perhaps the old prophet could reveal the path ahead.

Resolute, Jiraiya stopped pacing, quickly forming hand signs.

"Summoning Jutsu!"

(To be continued.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 61: Rivers of Blood? Peace and Happiness for All?

Bang!

As the thick white smoke dispersed, Jiraiya's figure appeared on Mount Myōboku.

Warm, humid air greeted him, carrying the scent of soil and exotic plants.

He had no time to admire the scenery. Determining the direction, his body shot forward like an arrow, racing toward the summit of the sacred mountain.

The new Daimyo, Arashi—his actions defied everything Jiraiya understood.

He needed answers, and he needed them now.

In the pond ahead, the mountain-sized Gamabunta puffed on his pipe, blocking Jiraiya's path.

"Jiraiya? Aren't you supposed to be fighting Kumo on the front lines? What are you doing here?"

"It's urgent!" Jiraiya's voice was tense. "Gamabunta, move aside! I need to see the Great Sage right away!"

Gamabunta's expression turned serious. "What happened?"

"Something big. I'll explain later."

Gamabunta removed the pipe from his mouth, silent for a moment.

"Go then. But I'll warn you, the old man's been sleeping lately. No guarantee he's awake."

"Thanks!" Jiraiya said quickly. "If he's asleep, I'll wake him."

Without another word, he vanished into the mist.

Gamabunta watched his retreating figure, eyes narrowing as smoke drifted from his pipe.

To make Jiraiya this anxious... the outside world must be in real turmoil.

Soon, an ancient palace came into view.

Before Jiraiya even reached it, a rich aroma of food filled the air.

In front of the palace, the two elder toads, Fukasaku and Shima, were busy at a massive cooking pot.

"Little Jiraiya?" Shima, her purple noodle-like hair bouncing, was the first to spot him. "Look! Jiraiya's back!"

She shouted while stirring the pot with a giant spoon.

Fukasaku opened his eyes, still sitting cross-legged on a stone platform.

"Oh? Jiraiya."

Noticing Jiraiya's anxious face, his long white brows furrowed. "You never change, do you? Always charging in without thinking. Can't you be calm for once?"

Jiraiya didn't bother with greetings. He rushed forward a few steps. "Fukasaku-sama, Shima-sama, I have an urgent matter. I must see the Great Sage right now!"

Still stirring, Shima said without looking up, "What's the rush? The sky hasn't fallen."

"Come taste my new Earth Dragon Mosquito Whisker Miso Soup first. I tripled the mosquito legs this time and added live earthworms. So fresh!"

Jiraiya's face turned green, waving both hands in panic. "No, no! Shima-sama, this is really serious!"

Seeing his alarm wasn't an act, Fukasaku's expression grew solemn.

The elder toad hopped down from the platform and stopped before Jiraiya, looking up.

Jiraiya summarized the dramatic changes in the Land of Fire and Konoha as quickly as possible.

After listening, Fukasaku was silent for a long time.

"So, you came to ask the Great Sage to divine Konoha's future?"

"Yes," Jiraiya said firmly. "I want to know where that new Daimyo will lead the Land of Fire and Konoha. Toward peace—or destruction!"

Fukasaku and Shima exchanged grave looks.

"...Alright," Fukasaku finally said. "This is serious. Come with me."

He turned and led Jiraiya inside the palace.

The vast hall was nearly empty except for one enormous throne.

Upon it sat an ancient toad, many times larger than Gamabunta.

Its wrinkled skin sagged heavily, its eyes shut tight in deep slumber.

It was the true master of Mount Myōboku—the Great Toad Sage, Gamamaru.

"Great Sage, little Jiraiya has come to see you," Fukasaku said respectfully.

The Great Toad Sage did not respond.

Jiraiya looked pleadingly at Shima.

She sighed, hopped lightly up onto the Sage's massive shoulder, took a deep breath, and shouted, "Great Sage, little Jiraiya has come to see you!"

"Hmm..."

The Great Toad Sage's huge eyelids slowly cracked open.

Its ears twitched slightly, and its cloudy eyes settled on Jiraiya.

"Ah... little Jiraiya..." Its ancient voice rumbled like distant thunder. "The confusion... and turmoil upon you... are as thick as fog."

Jiraiya's heart trembled. "Great Toad Sage, please guide me!"

He poured out all his doubts and worries, his voice full of urgency.

"Please tell me... what will become of Konoha? What will be the future of the Land of Fire?"

The Great Toad Sage was silent.

Its ancient eyes seemed to look past the ceiling, through the clouds, into the endless flow of time.

Minutes passed in silence.

The hall was still, except for the sound of slow, heavy breathing.

Jiraiya's heart pounded in his chest.

Finally, the Great Toad Sage moved, shaking its massive head.

"Cannot see..."

Its voice carried an unfamiliar tone—confusion.

"What?" Jiraiya was stunned.

"The future... has become a thick... fog of chaos..."

Each word landed in Jiraiya's heart like a boulder.

"I see... countless branching rivers..."

"There is blood flowing like rivers."

"There is peace and happiness for all people."

"The great river of fate... has been stirred... its currents tangled... all paths unclear."

"I can only sense... a power that struck the river of destiny... churning everything within."

Jiraiya stood frozen.

Blood flowing like rivers?

Peace and happiness for all?

What kind of answer was that?

He quickly asked, "Then what about the Child of Prophecy?"

The Great Toad Sage slowly shook its head.

Jiraiya's heart sank.

The Sage's prophecies had always been cryptic, but never meaningless.

He had grown used to deciphering riddles, always finding some faint clue.

But this time, there were none.

Not vague—contradictory.

"Blood flowing like rivers" and "peace and happiness for all" could not coexist.

He had once sought clarity through riddles, but now, even the riddle itself had no logic.

For the first time, he felt truly lost.

He thought of the long years he had spent searching for the Child of Prophecy.

The image of a red-haired boy with the Rinnegan flashed through his mind.

He had believed Nagato was that child.

But now, even that belief crumbled.

What should he do now?

Where should he go?

For the first time, there was no answer— not even a faint one.

A deep, hollow powerlessness gripped him, leaving him unable to breathe.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 62: Dancing Battle

While Jiraiya struggled with confusion about the future, far away in Konoha, Orochimaru was equally frustrated.

In a secret experimental base outside the Village.

It was dark and damp, filled with the heavy scent of formaldehyde mixed with blood.

Inside a giant glass container, a mass of flesh and tissue squirmed violently, as if it possessed life.

Orochimaru's golden, slit pupils narrowed as he stared intently at it, a twisted fanaticism gleaming in his eyes.

He picked up a syringe filled with a dark green liquid and slowly injected it into the container.

This was his latest creation, an improved fusion extracted from the First Hokage's cells.

"Yes... fuse together..."

Orochimaru's long tongue slid out to lick his cracked lips, his voice hoarse yet trembling with excitement.

However.

The next instant—

The flesh inside the container suddenly expanded, pustules bulging across its surface.

Bang!

The reinforced glass shattered.

Rotting flesh and green fluid splattered across the walls and floor.

The experiment had failed—again.

Orochimaru froze. The feverish light in his eyes dimmed.

He looked at the empty shelves and the few remaining nutrient boxes in the corner, his expression darkening.

That syringe had been the last of the First Hokage's cells.

Once used, there would be no more.

Even the funds for new equipment were nearly gone.

His research had reached its most critical stage, only to halt for the most absurd reason.

He was broke.

Root had been wiped out, Danzō dead, his entire clan eradicated. His biggest source of funding had vanished.

He had already sold off every asset he could, scraping together just enough for this failed experiment.

Now, he was completely trapped.

The experiment could no longer continue.

Which meant his pursuit of immortality had hit a wall.

Should he follow that fool Jiraiya, chasing after some illusion of peace?

Or waste away like Tsunade, drowning herself in sake and gambling dens?

No.

That wasn't his path.

In his mind, a figure surfaced.

The Daimyo of the Land of Fire, Chiba Arashi.

The man who, in mere months, had seized control of Konoha with thunderous precision.

His wealth, his power...

Orochimaru's lips twisted into a thin, sinister smile.

He needed funding.

And the Daimyo lacked everything—except money.

A legendary Sannin, now a scientist obsessed with the mysteries of life...

Wouldn't that make an interesting tool for a ruler who sought control over all things?

He only needed to show his value.

Immortality—what could be more tempting than that?

It seemed it was time to visit the Fire Capital.

At the same time.

In the courtyard of the Daimyo's manor.

After half a month of intense training, the women selected from across the Land of Fire had shed their naivety and resistance.

Now, thirty-six women knelt on silk cushions in identical sheer gowns. Their postures were graceful, their eyes filled with practiced allure.

Their speech, manners, and every motion had been refined to perfection.

But they all knew—the true test was only beginning.

For today, the Daimyo himself would appear before them.

Arashi reclined lazily on a soft couch at the head of the courtyard.

He gazed at the array of beautiful faces below, unmoved.

Etiquette was simply the polishing before the feast.

What truly mattered was the flavor of the dish itself.

"Begin," Arashi said softly. His calm voice carried clearly through the courtyard.

At the old instructor's signal, the sound of strings and flutes filled the air.

A noblewoman rose and began to dance in the center.

Her movements were elegant and proper, adhering perfectly to noble decorum.

But it was too conventional—refined, yet tasteless.

Like plain water.

Several more followed, each beautiful, each flawless, but all lacking soul.

Until Uchiha Ragyō stood.

The moment she stepped forward, the air shifted.

An innate confidence and arrogance radiated from her, setting her apart from the rest like a crane among chickens.

The music began.

Her dance followed the same courtly form, yet every motion she made was precise and alive.

The turn of her wrists, the sway of her skirt, every step in perfect control.

The sheer fabric revealed glimpses of long legs and a slender waist. Each motion carved breathtaking lines into the air.

It was not seduction.

It was declaration.

She danced to tell the man upon the throne.

I, Uchiha Ragyō, am the woman most worthy to stand by your side.

That ambition gave her beauty a living fire.

Arashi's eyes finally glimmered with a spark of interest.

After Ragyō finished, the air in the courtyard grew tense.

Her performance had set a bar no one could easily reach.

Then came Kurenai's turn.

Her body stiffened as she stood, the spark of spirit dimmed from her eyes.

She didn't want to be here.

But her father's pleading and her clan's future left her no choice.

As the music began, she closed her eyes. Her body, guided by years of shinobi discipline, moved with the rhythm.

Her dance was stiff, filled with resistance.

Yet her form was among the finest of all.

Years of training had molded her into the perfect balance of strength and grace.

The tight-fitting dress emphasized her curves, her hips and chest moving with instinctive rhythm.

Even the simplest movement carried a wild, untamed allure.

An unpolished beauty—like a rose still bearing thorns.

That resistance, that unwillingness, only deepened Arashi's intrigue.

When Kurenai finished, she nearly fled back to her seat.

Then it was the turn of Mei, the breathtaking woman who had introduced herself as Shizumi.

She rose gracefully, immediately drawing every gaze.

She lacked Ragyō's proud sharpness and Kurenai's defiance.

Instead, she wore a soft smile, her eyes brimming with charm.

Arashi raised a brow. He had seen her resistance during early training.

Had she changed her mind?

The music began.

She didn't start dancing immediately. Instead, she bowed deeply to Arashi.

That single motion made throats go dry.

Her gown's wide neckline dipped low, her full curves barely contained as she moved.

Her dance flowed with the distinct sensuality of the Land of Water.

Her body moved like water, her waist twisting gracefully, each motion a blend of temptation and rhythm.

Her skirt swirled, revealing flashes of her long, silk-wrapped legs.

Her movements alternated between soft and sultry, gentle and bold.

Every gesture, every glance, every breath was directed at him.

She was using her body as her weapon, challenging his composure.

When the music ended, Mei bowed again, her eyes half-lidded, her chest rising softly with each breath.

The courtyard fell silent.

No one dared breathe, all eyes fixed on Arashi.

Reclining against the couch, his lips curved into a faint, unreadable smile.

He slowly scanned the room, eyes lingering just long enough to make hearts tremble.

Finally, he sat upright, beckoned the etiquette officer, and pointed at the list before saying a few quiet words.

Then, without another glance, he rose and left the courtyard.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 63: The Name Turns Over

After Arashi left, silence fell over the courtyard.

Thirty-six women, regardless of status, held their breath.

Their fates rested on the few words the Daimyo had just spoken.

The elderly woman in charge of training stepped forward, holding a scroll.

All eyes immediately fixed on it.

She said nothing extra, simply unrolled the parchment and read in a flat tone.

"Eri."

"Kiyo."

"..."

She read four names in total, all belonging to women from noble families.

The faces of the named women turned pale.

"You have been eliminated," the old woman said coldly.

"Leave the residence before dawn tomorrow."

Eliminated.

Just one word, but it shattered their dreams completely.

The four trembled, eyes brimming with tears, yet none dared to make a sound.

Even crying here was a breach of etiquette.

Among the others, a few showed sympathy—but most felt quiet relief.

The old woman ignored the defeated ones, turning her gaze toward Mei, who knelt in the front row.

Instantly, every heart tightened.

Ragyō's breath hitched, her entire body tensing.

The old woman looked at Mei for a long moment, and finally, a faint smile crept across her wrinkled face.

"Shizumi."

She called Mei by her alias used within the manor.

"Daimyo-sama was greatly pleased by your dance."

A radiant smile blossomed across Mei's lips. She bowed gracefully, her voice soft as silk.

"It is Shizumi's honor to dance for Daimyo-sama."

The old woman nodded approvingly. "Prepare yourself."

"Tonight, you will attend to him."

Boom.

The words struck like thunder.

Every mind went blank.

Dozens of eyes turned toward Mei Terumī.

It was her—the woman of unknown origin, yet drenched in charm.

Envy, jealousy, disbelief—all flickered through the faces around her.

Ragyō's pupils shrank. A rush of blood surged to her head.

Why?

Why her?

In what way had she lost to that woman who only knew how to flaunt her body?

She bit her lip until it nearly bled, forcing herself not to show her fury.

Jealousy burned like fire in her chest.

Meanwhile, Kurenai, who had been tense all this time, finally exhaled.

It wasn't her.

Thank goodness.

Relief washed over her—followed immediately by guilt.

Was she really feeling glad about this?

Ashamed, she lowered her head, her cheeks burning red.

At the center of attention, Mei maintained her captivating smile as she processed what the old woman had said.

To serve him tonight.

Her body stiffened slightly, an instinctive reaction of resistance.

But the hesitation lasted less than a second.

Excitement replaced it.

It worked.

Her plan was finally within reach.

Once she gained access to him, she would cast genjutsu when his guard was lowest.

Even if her technique wasn't powerful, it would be enough against an ordinary man.

As long as she got the Daimyo's seal of approval, she could escape with the wealth and resources she needed for the resistance army.

Thinking of this, her momentary shame was drowned by elation.

When she looked up again, her gaze shimmered like liquid honey.

"Yes. Shizumi obeys."

…

Inside the study, sandalwood incense filled the air.

Arashi had not gone to the harem immediately but returned here.

Outside the window, the music from the courtyard had long since faded.

Scrolls of official documents were stacked high on the desk.

Arashi leaned against the chair, tapping his fingers lightly as he recalled the earlier performances.

Ragyō's raw ambition, Kurenai's rebellious spirit…

But most intriguing of all was Mei.

Her change, from open resistance during training to her seductive compliance tonight—was far too abrupt, far too unnatural.

Arashi's lips curved.

Rather than being offended, he found it entertaining.

He wanted to see what tricks this woman from the Land of Water would dare to play in his bed.

Just then, a voice came from outside the door.

"Daimyo-sama, Asaba Toru requests an audience."

"Let him in."

The door opened, and Asaba Toru stepped inside, his face alight with excitement.

"Reporting to Daimyo-sama!" He dropped to one knee, his voice ringing. "The first merchant convoys sent to the Land of Wind and the Land of Earth have returned!"

"Oh?" Arashi straightened slightly. "How did it go?"

"Yes!" Asaba composed himself and reported.

"The silks, teas, and especially the white sugar you named 'Fire Crystal' caused an uproar in both nations."

"The Daimyo of the Land of Wind even decreed that only nobles could purchase it."

"In the Land of Wind, the price of a single bolt of Fire brocade has tripled."

"In the Land of Earth, the price of white sugar has increased fivefold and is still in short supply."

He paused before continuing. "According to your instructions, our caravans also made purchases on their return trip."

"We've exchanged a great deal of high-quality ore from the Land of Earth."

"From the Land of Wind, we acquired rare herbs and special metals."

"These goods are common in their countries, so the prices were extremely low. Our convoys returned fully loaded and still had surplus funds."

Arashi smiled.

A perfect trade cycle.

Using irresistible luxuries to drain others of their wealth while gaining resources cheaply.

Weakening their treasuries while enriching his own nation.

This was far more elegant than war.

"Excellent," Arashi said approvingly. "What about the trade hub? Has the location been chosen?"

"It has!" Asaba spread out a map. "Here. We've named it Golden Canyon."

"The terrain is steep and easy to defend, and it borders three nations."

"Our artisans and ninja have already begun construction. Both the Land of Earth and the Land of Wind sent workers this morning. It should be completed within two months."

Arashi's eyes lingered on the marked location, his finger tapping the parchment.

Trade was only the beginning.

Once the economic arteries were in his grasp, war itself would become unaffordable for his rivals.

When nobles could no longer live without their luxuries…

By next spring, he would have the leverage to deal with the Land of Lightning.

"Issue the order," Arashi said calmly.

"For the next round of trade, keep the total goods unchanged, but reduce white sugar output by thirty percent."

"Also, spread the word that these goods are being used by commoners."

"Yes!" Asaba bowed, admiration flickering in his eyes.

This lord's precision was as sharp as ever—his ruthlessness, unmatched.

After dismissing him, Arashi stood and stretched lightly.

The main course was finished.

Now it was time for dessert.

He turned to the night sky beyond the window, amusement glinting in his gaze.

Tonight, he would see what kind of surprise that woman from the Mist could offer.

"Notify them," Arashi said lazily.

"Tell Shizumi to prepare well."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 64: The Beauty Trap!

Inside the bedchamber, a warm fragrance wafted through the air.

Unlike the tranquil sandalwood of the study, the incense here carried a sweet, intoxicating floral scent that easily stirred one's deepest desires.

Mei had already bathed and changed.

She wore a nearly transparent, lotus-colored silk gown, her damp hair cascading over her fragrant shoulders like a waterfall.

Droplets of water slid down her fair skin, disappearing into the depths of her cleavage.

She knelt before a low couch, a pot of wine warming on a small table in front of her.

Tonight, she was that pot of wine, waiting to be savored.

Though she had rehearsed it countless times in her mind, when footsteps sounded outside the door, her heart began to race uncontrollably.

There was both humiliation for what she was about to do and anticipation for the success of her plan.

Creak.

The chamber door opened.

Arashi appeared in the doorway, dressed in loose casual clothes, his appearance less authoritative and more relaxed.

In Mei's expectations, the Daimyo should have been eager to approach her.

But he wasn't.

Arashi merely gave her a casual glance, then walked straight to the couch, lay down, and let out a comfortable sigh.

It was as if she, a peerless beauty, was less appealing than the couch beneath him.

Mei's heart tightened.

This wasn't how she had imagined it.

The seductive charm she had deliberately displayed was supposed to ignite the man's possessive desire.

Yet his reaction was indifferent.

"Come here, pour the wine," Arashi said lazily.

Suppressing her doubts, Mei responded softly and stood up gracefully.

She stepped barefoot onto the carpet, walking forward step by step.

With each step, the faint outlines beneath her skirt showed through, her long, slender jade-like legs gleaming under the dim light.

She reached the couch and lifted the wine pot to pour.

As she bent forward, the loose neckline of her gown slipped, revealing her snowy white chest without reservation.

Any normal man would have reacted.

Arashi picked up the wine cup, his gaze lingering for a moment on her delicate collarbone before drinking it all in one gulp.

"Nice dance," Arashi said calmly, his expression unchanged.

Mei's heart sank further.

This Daimyo was too composed.

But the act had already begun, and she had no choice but to continue.

Her beautiful face blossomed into a more enchanting smile as she knelt beside Arashi's leg, her breath sweet as orchids.

"To receive such praise from Your Excellency is Shizumi's greatest honor."

She poured again, her finger brushing lightly against Arashi's hand.

Warm, soft, with a hint of coolness.

Arashi finally reacted, taking the opportunity to grasp her mischievous hand.

Mei's heart leapt.

So he had been pretending all along.

Caught off guard, she let out a soft gasp and leaned into him, half her body pressed against Arashi's.

"Your Excellency..." Her voice trembled, dripping with allure.

Arashi looked down at her.

Her face was indeed breathtaking.

Her eyes were like silk threads, her lips like cherry blossoms, her skin fair enough to break at a touch.

And those eyes... they could ensnare souls.

"Are you nervous?" Arashi's hand traced her smooth back, feeling her body tense slightly.

Mei stiffened and replied softly, "It's my first time serving Your Excellency, so Shizumi's heart is... both respectful and afraid."

She lowered her gaze, her long lashes trembling, perfectly concealing the panic in her eyes.

"Is that so?" Arashi smiled, lifting her chin. "A beauty like you must have many secrets in your heart, don't you?"

Boom.

Mei's mind buzzed.

He saw through her?

No. It must be a test.

Tears welled up in her eyes instantly.

"Your Excellency... why would you say that?"

"Shizumi only wishes to serve you well. If I've done something wrong, please punish me..."

Her pitiful expression could melt any man's heart.

Watching Mei's flawless act, Arashi chuckled inwardly.

As expected of the future Mizukage, her composure was impressive.

"Hahahahaha..." Arashi suddenly laughed and pulled her fully into his arms.

"Why would I punish you? You've done nothing wrong." His lips brushed her ear, his warm breath tickling her neck. "A beauty like you, I wouldn't bear to punish you."

His masculine scent enveloped her, her emotions stirring uncontrollably.

Mei's body softened instantly.

Half acting, half real.

The time was almost right.

Suppressing her shame, she wrapped her arms around his neck and offered her lips.

Arashi didn't refuse, accepting this offering from the flower of the Hidden Mist.

As their lips met, Mei's Chakra surged silently.

Genjutsu: Voice of the Sea of Desire.

This technique did not harm or forcibly control others, but instead amplified their inner desires, leading them to fall into depravity and submit to the caster.

It was enough to deal with a pampered Daimyo.

She felt her Chakra invade his mind.

No resistance.

Arashi's eyes turned hazy in that instant, filled with infatuation and devotion.

It worked.

Mei's heart pounded wildly.

She deepened the kiss, reinforcing the genjutsu.

After a long moment, their lips parted.

A silvery thread connected them briefly before breaking.

"Your Excellency..." Mei's voice trembled with desire, her breath unsteady.

"Hm?" Arashi's tone was thick with lust.

"Shizumi... has a small request..."

"Speak," Arashi said dotingly, stroking her long hair. "Whatever you want, I'll grant it."

Suppressing her excitement, Mei drew a scroll from her sleeve.

She unrolled it, her voice filled with shy eagerness.

"Shizumi has a distant relative who wishes to start a small business in the Land of Fire but has met with some difficulties and needs a batch of supplies for turnover..."

"Your Excellency is busy with countless affairs, I shouldn't trouble you with such a small matter, but..."

Before she could finish, Arashi took the scroll.

"A small matter."

He unrolled it and picked up the vermilion brush beside him.

Glancing at the listed items, Arashi sneered inwardly.

Weapons, food... quite the appetite.

This batch of supplies was enough to arm more than a thousand people.

Mei held her breath, her heart almost leaping from her chest.

Her eyes fixed on the vermilion brush as it was about to move.

As long as he signed and stamped the great seal... the Hidden Mist Village would be saved.

Arashi's wrist moved slightly, the brush soaked with cinnabar.

It was about to fall.

Then, his movement stopped.

His ear twitched faintly.

Hm?

Mei's heart jumped to her throat.

Why did he stop?

She quickly looked up. His eyes were still hazy, filled with lust and the illusion of genjutsu.

The genjutsu was still active.

Then why?

Arashi tilted his head slightly, his gaze shifting toward the tightly closed window.

Mei followed his eyes.

The carved window was shut tight, the paper unbroken, showing no sign of disturbance.

A bad feeling welled in her chest.

Just as she was about to speak to guide him back with her words...

"How annoying," Arashi sneered.

He turned his head to look at the woman in his arms.

His eyes were still hazy.

But his words sent Mei plunging into icy dread.

"My beauty, wait a moment."

"Let me deal with the little mouse eavesdropping outside first."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 65: Orochimaru’s Night Visit

Night had fallen deeply over the Fire Capital.

Only the busy streets still glimmered with lights.

Ordinary people had long since retired, but for some, the night was the time to act.

Orochimaru moved silently across the intricate rooftops.

His golden, slit-pupiled eyes gleamed in the darkness with the cold sharpness of a serpent.

Even the moonlight failed to reveal him.

Infiltrating the Daimyo's manor was, to him, no different from returning home.

The guards along the way, both hidden and visible, were nothing more than decoration before his flawless stealth Ninjutsu.

He even had time to evaluate their skill levels.

"Their breathing is too heavy."

"The flow of their Chakra isn't concealed at all."

"This level of defense is weaker than Konoha's Anbu."

Orochimaru's expression was filled with disdain, though his mind was already set on his plan for the night.

He always acted with caution, making full preparations even against seemingly weak opponents.

If the Daimyo's manor had been well-guarded, he would have withdrawn immediately to reconsider.

But as things stood, that wasn't necessary.

If the manor was truly this undefended, things would be simple.

He would move directly, control the target, and turn the supreme ruler of the Land of Fire into his puppet.

Thinking of that, Orochimaru licked his lips.

His research could continue.

He quickly located the Daimyo's bedchamber.

The guards there were clearly several times more numerous, and their Chakra flow was much more stable, a sign of elite strength.

But before Orochimaru, they were still insignificant.

He moved like an invisible wind, approaching silently, his Chakra completely concealed, blending into the darkness.

Inside the hall, the lights were bright, and incense smoke curled lazily.

A figure reclined on a soft couch, holding a beauty in his arms.

Decadent music, wine, women, and luxury.

Orochimaru's contempt deepened.

Even with power over the entire country, he was still a man indulged in desire.

He was about to approach, searching for the best moment to act.

"How disappointing."

Inside the hall, the lazy Daimyo suddenly chuckled.

His voice was soft, but it made Orochimaru's skin crawl.

He felt the distinct sensation of being targeted.

Something was wrong.

A moment later, the Daimyo's voice echoed from within.

"My beauty, wait a moment."

"Let me deal with the little mouse that's eavesdropping."

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly through the window and into Orochimaru's ears.

He had been discovered.

The thought flashed instantly through his mind.

How was that possible?!

Even his teacher, Sarutobi Hiruzen, couldn't easily detect his stealth Ninjutsu.

Escape!

There was no time to hesitate.

Orochimaru immediately decided to retreat.

His body shot backward, swift and precise.

However—

He had just leaped when a figure appeared before him, blocking his path.

It was none other than Arashi, the Daimyo who had been lounging with a woman only moments ago.

How did he get here?

Orochimaru's pupils constricted sharply.

He hadn't sensed any spatial Ninjutsu fluctuations.

The other party had simply appeared out of thin air.

"Since you've come all this way, why are you in such a hurry to leave?"

Seeing the familiar face, Arashi smiled calmly.

Orochimaru.

He silently repeated the name in his mind, amusement flickering in his eyes.

It was like someone offering a pillow to a tired man.

According to the original course of events, Orochimaru hadn't defected yet at this time, and Danzō was still secretly supporting him.

Unfortunately, Danzō was dead, Root had been eliminated, and the Shimura Clan had already pledged allegiance to Arashi.

So Orochimaru's reason for visiting the Daimyo's manor tonight was obvious.

Either he wanted a new patron.

Or, he intended to make Arashi his puppet.

Knowing Orochimaru's nature, the latter seemed more likely.

Originally, Arashi had planned to recruit this scientist after dealing with matters in the Land of Lightning.

He hadn't expected Orochimaru to walk straight into his palace.

Seeing Arashi blocking his escape, Orochimaru twisted his body midair, landing steadily three steps away.

His expression had grown grim.

Not just because of Arashi's sudden appearance, but because the moment he landed, more than a dozen powerful auras surrounded him from all directions.

Each one carried strength no less than a Konoha Anbu captain.

He was surrounded.

"Who are you?" Orochimaru asked, his gaze fixed on Arashi, searching for any weakness.

But there was none.

The man before him had no Chakra fluctuations whatsoever.

Just like an ordinary human.

But could an ordinary man appear in an instant and block him like this?

"You came to find me, and you're still asking who I am?" Arashi smiled faintly. "Then let me introduce myself. I'm the master of this manor."

"Why aren't you sleeping in the middle of the night, and instead sneaking into my residence?"

"I got lost…" Orochimaru replied casually, his eyes darting around for an escape route.

"Lost?" Arashi burst into laughter. "Orochimaru, one of the Legendary Sannin, gets lost too?"

Orochimaru's expression changed instantly.

He was exposed.

The man before him not only knew who he was but revealed his identity in one sentence.

"It seems Daimyo-sama knows me quite well."

There was no longer any point in pretending.

Orochimaru stopped hiding, his long tongue licking his lips, his golden pupils glinting dangerously.

"Since you know who I am, you should also know that these guards of yours can't stop me."

"Oh? You can try," Arashi said lightly, raising an eyebrow, his gaze filled with amusement. "And while you're at it, test the strength of my guards."

His calm tone carried an unmistakable challenge.

Orochimaru's pupils contracted, a dangerous gleam flashing across them before he moved.

...At the same time.

Inside the bedchamber, Mei froze completely.

When she heard Arashi say, "deal with the little mouse that's eavesdropping," she hadn't even reacted before he vanished.

He disappeared into thin air.

Moments later, three masked figures emerged from the shadows inside the hall, surrounding her tightly.

A cold killing intent filled the air.

If she made even the slightest move, she would be torn apart instantly.

She couldn't move at all.

It was over.

Mei stared at the empty couch and the scroll tossed carelessly aside.

The vermilion brush still lay quietly on the table.

The cinnabar ink on the tip glowed a deep red.

So, from beginning to end, she had been performing alone.

He had never fallen under her genjutsu.

He had only been playing along with her.

Watching her flirt, act, and give her all.

A crushing sense of humiliation flooded her chest.

Followed by deep frustration.

Her beauty, her schemes, her genjutsu—everything had been turned into a joke.

Outside the hall, Orochimaru didn't attack Arashi.

His instincts screamed that the man before him was extremely dangerous.

To strike first would be to fall into a trap.

In the blink of an eye, Orochimaru made his decision.

Break through.

He scanned the encirclement, analyzing for weaknesses.

Finally, his eyes locked on a Shadow Guard positioned on the eastern rooftop.

That was the weakest point in the formation.

And his only chance at escape.

His figure blurred, moving forward instead of back, sliding across the ground toward the Shadow Guard on the rooftop.

(To be continued.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 66: Come and Farm!

"Hidden Shadow Snake Hands!"

Several venomous snakes shot out from Orochimaru's sleeves, their scales glistening in the moonlight, carrying a foul, fishy stench as they lunged toward the Shadow Guard on the eaves.

This was one of Orochimaru's most frequently used techniques, swift and malicious.

However, the Shadow Guard didn't dodge.

Just as the snakes were about to strike, another Shadow Guard appeared out of thin air, and the two of them formed hand seals simultaneously.

Their movements were perfectly synchronized.

"Earth Release: Earth-Style Wall!"

Boom!

A thick earthen wall rose from the ground, blocking the path of the snakes precisely.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The snakes slammed into it one after another, their heads splitting apart, but the wall remained uncracked.

"Wind Release: Wind Cutter Jutsu!"

A third Shadow Guard followed closely, waving his hands as several sharp wind blades shot through the air, slicing the stunned snakes into bloody pieces.

The entire sequence flowed seamlessly, their coordination flawless.

Orochimaru's expression darkened.

The level of coordination between these guards meant they had undergone incredibly rigorous training.

Failing with his first strike, he didn't hesitate. His body twisted unnaturally as he slid along the ground toward the shadows on the western side.

"Soft Physique Modification!"

Once he entered the shadows, he had countless ways to escape.

"Don't even think about it!"

Two dark figures suddenly emerged from the shadows ahead, their short blades flashing in intersecting arcs, cutting off all his escape routes.

Their movements were cold and precise, without wasted motion, each strike aimed at his vital points.

Forced to halt, Orochimaru tapped the ground with his toes, launching himself upward to break through from above.

However, just as he leaped, his feet were suddenly bound tight.

At some point, several massive hands made of mud had burst from the earth, gripping his ankles firmly.

Even underground, there were ambushes.

A trap from all directions.

Orochimaru's expression finally changed completely.

From the moment he had acted until now, only a few seconds had passed, yet his three attempts to break through in different directions had all been intercepted.

These guards were like precise killing machines, predicting his every move before he made it.

Cornered, a flicker of madness crossed Orochimaru's eyes.

If he couldn't escape, then he would destroy everything.

"Summoning Jutsu!"

Biting his thumb, he rapidly formed hand seals, preparing to summon his contracted beast.

Manda.

That colossal serpent was enough to flatten the entire Daimyo's manor.

He refused to believe these guards could stay calm in front of such a creature.

Just as his blood-stained hand was about to hit the ground, Arashi, who had been standing and observing from a distance, finally frowned slightly.

"This won't do," he said softly.

The next instant, he moved.

No one saw his motion clearly.

Only an afterimage flashed past.

Orochimaru's body suddenly froze.

A hand had stopped him.

That hand didn't use much strength, yet it instantly disrupted all his Chakra flow.

The Summoning Jutsu he was about to complete came to an abrupt halt.

His contract with Ryūchi Cave was forcibly severed by an incomprehensible, overwhelming force.

Orochimaru stiffly turned his head.

At some unknown moment, Arashi was already beside him, still wearing that calm smile.

"When you're a guest, behave yourself," Arashi said as he withdrew his hand, his tone casual, like scolding an unruly child. "If you damage my courtyard, it's troublesome to clean up."

Orochimaru staggered backward, his face filled with disbelief.

It was as if Arashi were a monster.

How was this possible?

How did he do that?

In a daze, Orochimaru felt a cold kunai press against his throat, pulling him back to reality.

He had lost.

Looking at Orochimaru, Arashi smiled faintly.

"Don't struggle. You can't escape."

"You…" Orochimaru began to speak.

But Arashi didn't give him the chance.

"Let me guess why you're here."

"I killed Danzō and disbanded Root."

"So, your funding source was cut off."

"Your research on the First Hokage's cells, without Root's protection, you can't continue that either, right?"

"And your immortality experiments, also stuck?"

With every sentence Arashi spoke, Orochimaru's pupils shrank further.

By the end, his eyes were filled with sheer shock.

How could this man know secrets that only he and Danzō knew?

"So, you set your sights on me." Arashi spread his hands, a mocking smile on his face. "You wanted to turn me into your puppet, to satisfy all your desires?"

"Tsk, tsk."

"Orochimaru, one of the Legendary Sannin, reduced to such despicable methods, how pitiful."

For the first time, his sinister face showed unease. "What, what do you want?"

"Simple." Arashi snapped his fingers. "I want you to work for me."

Orochimaru froze, then sneered, his voice hoarse and mocking. "Work for you? What makes you think I'd submit?"

"Because I have what you need." Arashi's smile didn't fade.

"You want money. I can give it to you, enough to last ten lifetimes."

"You want experimental materials, including the First Hokage's cells. I can provide as many as you need."

"Even the immortality you seek, I can show you a path toward it."

Arashi's gaze bore into him, deep and unwavering, filled with confidence that saw through everything.

"As long as you obey."

Orochimaru fell silent.

Money.

Experimental materials.

First Hokage's cells.

Immortality.

Every word struck precisely at his greatest desires.

He couldn't refuse.

And at this point, he didn't have the right to.

After a long silence, his throat moved, and he spoke hoarsely, "What do you want me to do?"

"Two things." Arashi raised two fingers.

"First, develop a plague vaccine."

"Vaccine?" Orochimaru blinked, momentarily stunned.

Arashi continued as if he hadn't heard him. "The southern plains were hit by floods, submerging seven towns and displacing over a hundred thousand people.

"The floodwaters have receded, but plagues always follow disasters. Signs of infection have already appeared among the survivors.

"By normal medical means, isolation, diagnosis, and antidote development take too long.

"By the time the plague is contained, at least thirty percent of the victims will have died."

Arashi's voice was calm, but his gaze was cold and calculating.

"I don't have that much time to wait. Nor that many lives to waste."

His eyes locked on Orochimaru, as though he were evaluating a rare specimen.

"And you, Orochimaru, are a genius in this field. I want you to solve it in the shortest time possible."

Orochimaru understood.

He was to use his scientific expertise to stop an epidemic.

For him, that wasn't difficult.

He just hadn't expected the forbidden arts he spent his life studying would one day be used to save lives.

It felt absurd.

"Fine," Orochimaru nodded. For him, it was a trivial matter.

But what about the second?

"And the second?"

Arashi's smile widened. "The current crop yields are too low. I need you to use your techniques to double all agricultural output across the Land of Fire."

"..."

Orochimaru froze completely.

His golden eyes widened in disbelief.

Had he heard that right?

Crops? Yields?

He hadn't misheard, had he?

This man had gone to such lengths, overpowering him, offering irresistible temptations, all for this?

Not to assassinate foreign dignitaries.

Not to destroy ninja villages.

Not to develop weapons of war.

But to have him farm?

(To be continued.)

Chapter 67: Eternal Foundation

Orochimaru froze on the spot.

His mind went blank.

Farming?

That word had long been erased from his world the moment he became a shinobi.

That was the work of civilians, those who faced the earth with their backs to the sky, struggling for a few mouthfuls of food.

He, on the other hand, was one of the Legendary Sannin.

His hands were meant for forming hand seals, for dissection, for exploring the mysteries of life.

And now, this man actually wanted him to research ways to increase crop yields?

It was more absurd than killing him outright.

The absurdity was so great that Orochimaru wondered if he had misheard.

Or perhaps he had fallen into a genjutsu.

"I can do more valuable things than this."

Orochimaru's hoarse voice trembled as he tried to steady himself, forcing his words to sound firm.

"Assassination, war, intelligence… or, I can develop forbidden Ninjutsu weapons capable of destroying an entire village."

"These are my true value."

In his eyes, the desires of those in power were always the same.

Stronger armies, greater wealth, wider lands.

If he was being asked to research crops, it could only mean one thing. The Daimyo wanted to collect more taxes by increasing food output to fund a more extravagant life.

That was what all nobles were like.

Extravagant, indulgent, and endlessly greedy.

Arashi looked at Orochimaru's confused and incredulous expression and smiled.

"Do you think I'm asking you to do this just to squeeze more money from the farmers, so I can live like other nobles in luxury?"

Orochimaru said nothing.

But his thoughts were obvious.

Arashi shook his head slightly, pity flickering in his eyes as though he were looking at a primitive man.

"Ninja are ninja. You always see the world in such a simple, pitiful way."

Those words hit Orochimaru like a slap to the face.

Yet, he had no rebuttal.

He truly couldn't understand what other reason a Daimyo could have for caring about peasants covered in mud.

Arashi had no intention of explaining further.

Trying to lecture a scientific fanatic about what true foundations of livelihood meant was meaningless.

Orochimaru's use would not end with this task, but that would come later.

He didn't need Orochimaru to understand, only to obey.

For a brief moment, Arashi's thoughts wandered.

He remembered his previous life.

If he had been an ordinary man in his previous life, perhaps he would have only wanted to make his own family's life better.

Even after transmigrating, without the System, he might have simply adapted to this world quietly.

But now, he was the Daimyo of the Land of Fire.

If he couldn't reshape this world according to his vision, then what was the point of his transmigration?

Position determines perspective.

He didn't mind improving the lives of those at the bottom, so long as it also secured his own interests.

Now, the fate of hundreds of millions of people in the Land of Fire rested in his hands.

Of course, he could ignore them. He could treat the commoners as livestock that paid taxes, as the previous Daimyo had done.

But he wouldn't.

A truly strong nation could not be built upon endless exploitation.

If even the lowest people couldn't fill their stomachs, then the ruler was a failure.

Of course, he didn't need to explain these grand ideals to Orochimaru.

Letting others guess his intentions was, in itself, a display of power.

"Saku."

Arashi's voice was calm.

The moment he spoke, a figure appeared silently beside him, kneeling on one knee as if he had been part of the air all along.

Orochimaru's pupils shrank once again.

When did this man appear?

His sharpened perception, refined through countless battles, hadn't detected the slightest sign of movement.

He had thought the Shadow Guard who had surrounded him earlier were the Daimyo's most elite forces.

But now, this new presence, undetectable even to him, appeared effortlessly.

Just how much power was hidden within this manor?

Even if he had broken through earlier, could he have really escaped? The thought sent a chill down Orochimaru's spine.

"Daimyo-sama." Aono Saku bowed his head, his voice steady.

Arashi pointed at Orochimaru. "From today onward, Orochimaru will serve as the Land of Fire's Special Chief Researcher."

"Whatever experimental materials he needs, whatever funds he requires, whatever personnel he asks for, you are to handle it. Grant his requests to the greatest extent possible."

"Yes!"

Aono Saku replied respectfully, then moved aside.

Arashi turned back to Orochimaru. "Once you complete the two tasks I've given you, you will receive everything you want."

"Now, follow him to choose your new laboratory."

He waved his hand.

"You may go."

Orochimaru looked deeply at Arashi.

From the strength this man had shown and his promises, he no longer wished to flee.

Perhaps following such a person would be far more interesting.

Thinking that, Orochimaru smiled faintly, excitement flickering in his golden eyes.

"Hehehe, as you command, Daimyo-sama."

Led by Aono Saku, Orochimaru turned and left.

Inside the bedchamber, the sweet incense in the censer had long burned out.

Mei knelt before the soft couch, motionless, though her muscles were tightly tensed.

Humiliation? Anger?

She had buried those emotions the moment Arashi disappeared and the three Shadow Guard appeared.

She was a shinobi.

An elite of the Hidden Mist Village.

In any desperate situation, the first thought should never be emotion, but survival.

Her mind raced.

The three guards, each with Chakra levels at Jōnin rank, surrounded her in a perfect triangle formation.

There were no blind spots.

Forcing her way out had a near-zero chance of success.

She mentally simulated countless escape routes and jutsu, rejecting them one after another.

Then suddenly, noise erupted outside the hall.

The sound of Ninjutsu clashing, the hiss of serpents, the rumble of rising earth walls.

A battle.

Someone was fighting the Daimyo's guards.

Soon after, a hoarse voice echoed faintly, yet clearly enough for her sharp ears.

"Summoning Jutsu!"

Mei's eyes widened.

Orochimaru.

One of the Legendary Sannin, Orochimaru!

How could he be here?

Her shock quickly turned into joy.

If someone like Orochimaru was attacking, chaos would soon follow.

The manor's defenses would be drawn away.

It was her best chance to escape.

But the joy didn't last.

There was no sign of the roaring giant snakes she expected.

The Summoning Jutsu's massive Chakra fluctuation vanished abruptly.

Then, silence.

Complete silence.

Even Orochimaru's presence disappeared.

It was over.

That quickly?

How long had it been? One of the Legendary Sannin, defeated just like that?

A chill colder than before crept into her heart.

For the first time, Mei truly understood the power of the Daimyo of the Land of Fire.

Even Orochimaru couldn't shake him.

What was her own strength worth in comparison?

Escape?

To where?

Just as she fell into despair,

Creak.

The door of the hall opened.

Arashi stepped back inside.

The three Shadow Guard melted into the shadows once more, vanishing completely.

Only he and she remained.

Arashi walked to the couch and sat down as if nothing had happened.

He picked up the list of materials, glanced at it, and tossed it into the charcoal brazier at his feet.

The scroll caught fire instantly.

Watching the list slowly turn to ash, Arashi smiled faintly, his voice gentle yet playful.

"My beauty, have you been waiting long?"

"Come, let's continue."

His face still held that same relaxed, affectionate expression as before.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 68: You Are Mine

Inside the bedchamber, a deathly silence reigned.

In the charcoal brazier, the scroll had already turned to ash.

The last wisp of smoke dissipated, and the crimson flame flickered weakly.

Arashi's face still bore that look of infatuation, hazy and filled with lust.

His voice was soft, smooth enough to drip water.

"My beauty, have you been waiting long?"

"Come, let's continue."

He reached out, as if to pull Mei back into his arms, to resume their interrupted act of intimacy.

Mei looked at him.

She looked at the perfect mask of desire on his face, at the feigned blur in his eyes.

A wave of uncontrollable fear rose within her.

In this man's eyes, she was nothing more than a clown for his amusement, from start to finish.

He hadn't even bothered to expose her. He simply played along, enjoying how she performed, how she believed herself clever.

And then, at the height of her supposed triumph, he shattered her pride and dignity completely.

Mei's body trembled slightly.

She raised a hand, tugging the nearly transparent silk gown tighter around herself, inch by inch.

It was her final defense.

The flirtatious smile had vanished from her face, replaced by the cold stillness of her icy gaze.

She stared at Arashi, her voice trembling. "What exactly do you want?"

As the words fell, Arashi glanced at her, and the false infatuation disappeared from his face instantly.

His eyes returned to their usual calm.

He leaned back on the soft couch, adjusting into a more relaxed posture as he watched Mei.

His face showed faint disappointment, as though regretting that the show had ended too soon.

"Boring," he said softly. "Not acting anymore?"

"I thought you enjoyed the performance."

His casual tone was more humiliating than any cruel insult.

"Do you think this is fun?" Mei gritted her teeth, forcing out each word.

"It is," Arashi admitted without hesitation, smiling. "Of course it's fun."

He stretched lazily, his movements slow and relaxed.

"Life in the deep palace is dull beyond measure."

"Every day it's either government affairs or dealing with scheming old men."

"I almost forgot when I last found something this entertaining."

His gaze shifted back to her, amusement deepening in his eyes.

"Especially an elite Jōnin from the Hidden Mist Village, trying to approach me in this way."

"Willing to offer her body for a few pitiful weapons and rations."

"Tsk tsk, how courageous."

Boom.

Mei's mind went blank for a moment.

He... he knew her true identity!

She had been careful, meticulous. She believed she had never left a trace.

Even the scroll she'd prepared contained no hint of Hidden Mist involvement.

There's a spy.

The realization hit her immediately.

But what good was that knowledge now?

All her secrets, all her plans, had already been laid bare.

While she, in turn, knew nothing about this man.

This imbalance of power made her feel a suffocating helplessness.

"You... you..."

Her lips trembled, but no words came out.

Arashi's smile deepened as he watched her confusion and despair.

He didn't press further, but instead asked lightly, "Don't ask what I want."

"Shouldn't I be asking what you want?"

Mei froze slightly.

What did she want?

She wanted the supplies for Hidden Mist, to save her comrades still trapped under the Bloody Mist's rule.

But now, everything had collapsed into nothing.

She was a prisoner.

When pride and dignity are crushed, only the instinct to survive remains.

"...Let me go." Mei's voice was very soft, carrying a faint plea even she didn't realize.

"Let you go?" Arashi chuckled, as if hearing a joke. "Why?"

He sat upright, leaning slightly forward, his gaze sharp as it locked onto her.

"Because you're beautiful?"

"Or because you entertained me earlier?"

His tone was calm, yet each word cut into her like a blade.

Mei's face paled even further.

She forced herself to regain composure, trying to reclaim the dignity of a top shinobi.

"I am a kunoichi from Hidden Mist. Capturing me could cause a diplomatic dispute between our two nations."

It was the only bargaining chip she could think of.

"Diplomatic dispute?" Arashi laughed coldly, his smile full of disdain. "A dancer sneaks into the Daimyo's bedchamber, attempting assassination through seduction?"

"Even if the truth came out, do you think Hidden Mist would protect you? Or would they immediately disavow you?"

Mei's heart sank completely.

Yes.

Tonight, her identity was that of Shizumi, a civilian woman from the Land of Fire.

Even if she died, it would have nothing to do with Hidden Mist Village.

All her paths were cut off.

Watching the last spark in her eyes die out, Arashi knew that the proud flower of the Mist had lost her thorns, one by one, under his hand.

He rose and walked toward her.

His tall figure cast a shadow over her trembling form.

He bent down, pinching her smooth chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Don't misunderstand, Terumī Mei," Arashi said softly.

"I wasn't the one who started this game."

"You came to me, trying to make me your prey."

"But you overestimated yourself and underestimated me."

"So don't pretend you're innocent."

"Now the game is over."

"And the roles of hunter and prey are reversed."

His thumb brushed against her jaw, feeling the trembling of her delicate skin.

"You're right. You are beautiful, and your identity is... interesting."

"So..."

"From tonight onward, you, your life, and everything about you..."

Arashi's lips curved into a faint, possessive smile.

"...belong to me."

His voice was soft, but it sealed off all escape routes.

The domineering declaration sent a shiver down her spine.

The trembling wasn't just from fear, but from the burning mix of rage and humiliation.

But she was Terumī Mei.

The woman who had survived the Bloody Mist and led resistance from the shadows.

After the brief shock, her mind began to race again.

Threats?

He wouldn't care.

Begging?

That would only amuse him.

Then... only a transaction remained.

Mei forced herself to calm down.

Taking a deep breath, her composure slowly returned.

She met his gaze head-on, her voice trembling slightly but no longer panicked.

"Fine."

The single word made Arashi raise an eyebrow, intrigued.

He waited for her to continue.

Mei steadied herself with one hand on the ground and rose slowly.

Even in defeat, her back remained straight, the posture of a proud warrior.

"I can serve you."

The words escaped her lips, but her body trembled despite her will.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 69: Hot-blooded

When Mei said she could serve him, Arashi knew she had more to say.

He waited patiently for her to continue.

Mei then said, "But my previous condition..."

"You must promise to provide that batch of supplies to the Hidden Mist resistance."

This was her last bargaining chip.

She was trading her body and freedom for her companions' chance to survive.

In her view, this was perhaps the only deal that could move a Daimyo.

After all, to the Land of Fire's Daimyo, those supplies were nothing.

And in return, he would gain the complete obedience of a top kunoichi.

However...

Arashi's expression turned strange, then he laughed.

It was open mockery.

"Have you still not understood the situation?"

He leaned back on the soft couch again, looking at her like she was a fool. "Do you think you have any right to negotiate with me now?"

The contempt in his voice made Mei freeze, her face turning ugly.

She bit her lip hard, unwilling. "You..."

"Me what?"

Arashi cut her off, the smile fading, replaced by a cold look.

"Terumī Mei, I will say this once more."

"You are now my spoils of war."

"Spoils of war do not get to choose, and they certainly do not get to set conditions."

"Your purpose is to please me, to make me happy."

"As for your companions, your so-called resistance... what do their lives or deaths have to do with me?"

His cold words shattered Mei's last illusion.

Yes.

Why would he agree to her terms?

In his eyes, she was nothing more than a conceited plaything that presented itself.

Why should he listen to a plaything's request?

Despair flooded her heart.

She stared at the handsome, cruel man before her, and hatred surged into her eyes.

"Even if you get my body, you'll never get my heart!"

This was her last act of defiance.

She would use her will to preserve her dignity.

But the expected rage and embarrassment did not appear.

Instead, the moment he heard it, Arashi froze.

For a heartbeat, his expression went blank.

Seeing this, a twisted sense of satisfaction rose in Mei's chest.

See, even if you control my body, you cannot control my will.

You will ultimately... Just as she thought that...

"Pfft..."

Arashi burst out laughing.

His laughter grew louder, more unrestrained.

"Haha... Hahahahahahaha!"

He laughed until he bent over, tears almost forming, pointing at Mei, unable to form a full sentence for a long time.

"You... you... hahahaha..."

Mei was completely confused.

What was he laughing at?

Was that line really so funny?

Wasn't it the greatest insult to him?

She could not understand.

Arashi laughed for a long time, his stomach aching, before he finally stopped.

He wiped the corners of his eyes and looked at the bewildered Mei with a pitying gaze.

In that instant, all that flashed through his mind were the stale lines from melodramatic dramas of his previous life.

"You have my body, but not my heart." "You devil, I won't forgive you even as a ghost."

He thought those lines only existed in screenwriters' minds.

He never expected to hear the real version today.

From the future Mizukage, Terumī Mei no less.

The absurdity made him lose control.

He looked at Mei, shook his head, and said slowly, like lecturing a country bumpkin, "Come on."

"What would I need your heart for?"

"To make a cold salad? Or braise it?"

"Your heart is full of Hidden Mist, your companions, and hatred for me. Should I take that on just to add to my problems?"

Mei was stunned.

It felt like her whole person was being crushed under his words.

All her resistance turned into a joke in the face of his light, mocking question.

A shame far worse than being exposed earlier made her wish she could crawl into a crack in the floor.

Her body swayed, almost losing balance.

Seeing her teetering, worldview shattered, Arashi's smile grew wider.

This proud flower of the Mist was about to be completely broken by him.

"Either you let me go," Mei's voice trembled with a faint sob, "or I will die right here."

Determination flashed in her eyes. A kunai appeared in her hand at some point and pressed firmly to her pale neck.

If he refused, she would pierce her throat without hesitation.

To defend the last shred of her dignity with death.

"Oh?"

Arashi raised an eyebrow. Not only did he not stop her, he looked interested. "Alright."

He even clapped, as casually as encouraging her.

"Then do it."

"Hurry, let me see if the wilting of the flower of the Mist is beautiful too."

"You..." Mei gritted her teeth.

Her hand hovered in the air, caught between striking and retreating.

Was he not afraid she would actually die here?

"What? You cannot do it?" Arashi's mockery faded, his smile turning cold. "Of course. Once you die, everything ends."

He stepped in close, meeting her eyes. A chill flashed in his gaze.

"But let me warn you."

"If you die here, I will announce tomorrow that a kunoichi from the Hidden Mist attempted an assassination and was killed on the spot."

He paused, then leaned to her ear and whispered, "Do you think I will send your companions' names to your Mizukage?"

"You!!!"

Mei's pupils tightened, a cold shock shooting straight to her head.

Those words bound up all her resolve.

She could die.

She could not drag down those who trusted and followed her.

"You... you devil..."

Her lips trembled. All her strength seemed to leave her.

Clang.

The kunai slipped from her fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud.

That sound shattered her last will to resist.

Her body went soft, like a broken flower, collapsing weakly beside Arashi's leg.

It was over.

Everything was over.

She looked up at the man and finally broke down.

Tears slid down her cheeks.

"What... what do you want..."

She sobbed, despairing.

Arashi looked down at Mei. Seeing her tear-streaked face, there was no pity in his eyes.

He reached out, hooked a strand of her hair, and brought it to his nose. A delicate scent lingered. "I told you, you should not ask me that."

Then he pinched her cheeks lightly, staring into her tear-filled emerald eyes. The smile at his lips could no longer be hidden.

"You should ask yourself."

"What can you give me?"

"However..."

His gaze slid downward, boldly following the graceful lines of her figure.

He said with meaning, "Right now, I am very hot-blooded."

Then, his large hands settled on her head, gently but firmly pressing it downward.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 70: What I Give You Is Yours. What I Don’t Give You, You Can’t Take

The next day.

Morning sunlight filled the bedchamber.

The scent of last night still lingered in the air, and an ambiguous atmosphere remained.

Perhaps she was exhausted, but Mei curled up like a kitten on the soft bed, sleeping soundly.

Arashi glanced at her half-exposed body, a flash of triumph in his eyes, then rose, wearing only a loose robe.

He stretched, his joints popping.

Perhaps the sound of him getting up was too loud, and Mei awoke.

She slowly opened her sleepy eyes, her face full of fatigue.

Her dazed gaze darted around, quickly landing on Arashi standing by the bed.

She instantly remembered where she was and pulled the quilt up, wrapping herself tightly.

Her eyes had nowhere to settle, so she looked to the side.

There lay the nearly transparent, lotus-colored silk dress, now reduced to torn rags by last night's storm.

Mei immediately recalled everything she had experienced the previous night.

Her once bright, spring-green eyes turned hollow, her whole being dazed.

Her fair skin was covered in red marks, like cracks.

Memories surged back. Last night was like a nightmare.

That man, in the most barbaric way, showed her what dominance meant.

There had been no tenderness, no gentleness.

Every demand was a claim of ownership.

In the end, she gave up resisting and let him crush her.

Her disconsolate state did not draw Arashi's attention.

He went straight to the desk, pulled out a blank scroll, and picked up a brush.

Without much thought, the brush moved across the scroll in flowing strokes.

Weapons, food, medicine... the contents matched the list Mei had presented last night.

The scroll he burned seemed etched into his mind.

After writing, he signed his name and heavily stamped the Daimyo's seal.

The crimson mark imprinted the scroll.

With that done, Arashi took the order and walked back to the bed.

As he approached, Mei trembled uncontrollably.

"Take it."

Arashi tossed the order in front of her.

The scroll unfurled before her eyes.

The familiar list of supplies, the crimson seal, stung her eyes.

Seeing the contents, Mei's gaze regained a faint spark.

She looked at the order in disbelief.

He... rewrote it?

Why?

She looked up at Arashi, eyes full of confusion.

She didn't understand.

Last night, she had exhausted all schemes, even sacrificed herself, only to be rejected.

But now, after she had completely fallen, becoming a worthless plaything, he casually threw her what she had yearned for.

What was this?

Humiliation?

Pity?

Charity?

Her hollow eyes were filled with confusion.

Arashi looked down at her. Seeing her bewildered yet stubborn expression, his smile widened.

"I am very satisfied with your performance last night."

The words pierced her ears.

A powerful wave of shame washed over her, turning her pretty face bright red.

Her performance last night?

That appearance of being at his mercy, bereft of dignity?

She bit her lip hard, almost drawing blood, to keep herself from crying out.

Seeing her aggrieved expression, Arashi's interest faded.

He sat back on the bed, pinched her chin, forced her to look up, and said, word by word, "Stop those tears."

Mei startled, and her tears stopped instantly.

"Good girl," Arashi nodded. "This was your choice, and I gave you what you wanted."

"Remember."

"In the Land of Fire, there is a rule."

"What I give, you may take."

"What I do not give, you may not reach for, much less snatch."

"This is a one-time thing. Do not expect it again."

Mei understood immediately.

This was not a reward.

This was him setting rules.

He was using this bloody method to tell her that everything she had depended on his whim.

If he wished to give, she would have it.

If he did not, even kneeling would be useless.

"Do you understand?" Arashi asked calmly.

Mei's body trembled violently. Two streams of tears finally rolled down, no longer controllable.

After a long moment, a sob escaped her throat.

"...Yes."

Satisfied, Arashi released her, stood, and summoned a maid to bathe and dress him.

He had tasted the appetizer.

It was time to handle serious matters.

He did not look at Mei again. He turned and left without a backward glance.

The palace door closed, separating inside from outside.

Mei hugged the scorching order, buried her face deep in the quilt, and sobbed, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Fire Capital.

At Tanaka Shigeru's mansion, the atmosphere was heavy.

Across from him sat a burly man.

He had short white hair and dark skin. He was a shinobi from Kumogakure, named Doro.

As the envoy of the Land of Lightning, his purpose was singular.

To secure for the Land of Lightning the qualification to conduct specialty trade with the Land of Fire.

Just last month, the first caravans laden with specialties from the Land of Fire arrived in the Land of Wind and the Land of Earth.

Among them, a white sugar called Fire Crystal immediately sparked a high-society trend.

When the Daimyo of the Land of Wind and the Land of Earth began to use silk from the Land of Fire as the highest reward, and Fire Crystal as the grand finale dessert at state banquets, the Land of Lightning was excluded.

Upon learning this, the Daimyo of the Land of Lightning was furious.

Why could those poor devils of the Land of Earth and the Land of Wind enjoy something that he, a monarch of one of the Five Great Nations, did not have?

In his rage, an urgent order reached Kumogakure.

Upon receiving it, the Raikage immediately dispatched Doro, known for his unyielding nature, to rush over day and night.

"Lord Tanaka, my intentions are clear," Doro finally broke the silence, his tone forceful. "That white sugar, Fire Crystal, along with silk and tea, we in the Land of Lightning want them too."

Tanaka set down his teacup, his smile unchanged.

Facing the formidable envoy from Kumo, he already understood.

The Daimyo's strategy had worked.

However, this matter exceeded the decision-making power of a mere Minister of Finance.

Tanaka composed himself, his tone neither servile nor arrogant. "As for trade, this official naturally welcomes it. However..."

"However what?" Doro frowned, clearly impatient.

"Lord Doro may be unaware," Tanaka explained unhurriedly, "that our trade with the Land of Wind and the Land of Earth is a national policy personally set by the Daimyo."

"All terms and details are approved directly by the Daimyo's manor."

"Now that the Land of Lightning wishes to join, this exceeds my authority."

Tanaka emphasized "the Daimyo," both clarifying his stance and reminding the envoy who held the real power.

"This matter is important, and I must personally report it to the Daimyo."

"Before receiving a clear decree, I cannot give you a reply."

His words were reasonable and proper. He did not refuse directly, but deftly passed the matter upward.

Although Doro was impatient, he was not a fool.

It was standard bureaucratic language, but there was no flaw to seize.

He snorted. "Then how long must I wait?"

"I will seek an audience immediately. As soon as there is news, you will be informed."

"During this time, please rest at the inn. All expenses in the Fire Capital will be borne by our side," Tanaka said with a hospitable smile.

Hearing the promise, Doro could only suppress his anger. "Fine. I will await your news. Do not make me wait too long."

"Certainly, certainly."

After seeing Doro off, Tanaka immediately ordered, "Prepare the carriage."

"To the Daimyo's manor at once."

(To be continued.)