After the execution, Shin did not make a grand announcement. His intention was primarily to consolidate internal forces, strengthen control over the surrounding areas, and truly unite Akatsuki as a cohesive unit.
It wasn't yet time to promote externally. The neighboring countries' spies would be watching, measuring every move, every whisper.
Although the daimyō of the Land of Rain had disappeared, the daimyōs of neighboring countries remained. Their eyes were like hawks, waiting for any sign of weakness or aggression.
He wasn't eager to make himself a public enemy just yet. Instead, he focused on the more immediate task at hand. At the same time, he didn't forget to write to implicate Hanzō. Each carefully crafted document pointed to the Salamander, building a trail that would withstand even the most thorough scrutiny.
Next came a strategic pullback and border surveillance, calmly awaiting the inevitable retaliation from Iwa.
A scout approached him as he finished the last document. "The western borders are secured, Captain."
Shin nodded, his expression unchanging. "Double the patrols. Iwa won't stay quiet for long."
---
Two days later, far away in Iwa, Ōnoki finally received the news. The Tsuchikage's office was filled with maps and battle reports, each one demanding attention, but this particular news drew his immediate focus.
"What do you mean Gari didn't coordinate with the attack as planned? Where is he?"
He slammed his fist on the table in anger, making scrolls roll off the edges. "That was my elite Demolitions Unit!"
One of his ANBU lowered his head and responded, maintaining perfect composure despite his leader's outburst. "Tsuchikage-sama, we scouted Gari's designated route, but there was no trace of him along the way. It seems likely that he never even left the Land of Rain."
Ōnoki furrowed his brows, the deep lines in his face tightening.
"So you're suggesting that Gari is trapped in the Land of Rain?" Each pin in the map behind him marked another step in his grand vision, but this small nation kept disrupting everything.
"Why does something always go wrong in the Land of Rain? Last year, we sent a squad there, and they vanished too. Is this small nation cursed?"
The ANBU member did not reply but continued with his report. "Due to Gari's absence, we couldn't complete the planned annihilation of the Konoha squad. They held out until Minato arrived, and afterward, our losses were severe."
Ōnoki's thick eyebrows furrowed even deeper. The name 'Minato' seemed to physically pain him, like salt in an open wound.
More than the Land of Rain, Minato was his most pressing concern. The Yellow Flash had become more than just a nuisance—he was becoming a nightmare for Iwa's forces.
Ōnoki tugged at his beard, sighed, and said, "Issue my order: if anyone encounters the Yellow Flash on the battlefield, they are permitted to abandon the mission to save themselves. The village will not hold them accountable afterward."
Kitsuchi entered the room, his strong frame filling the doorway and dwarfing Ōnoki's small stature. As captain of Iwa's elite jonin squad, he looked at his father with concern.
"Father, if you issue such an order, Konoha will quickly catch wind of it, doesn't that give Minato too much prestige?"
This command would undoubtedly elevate Minato's reputation to a new height.
Ōnoki's frustration grew as he slammed the table again, sending more scrolls tumbling. "And whose fault is that? If your generation had produced someone capable of matching Minato, would I need to give such an order?"
His anger and frustration peaked, and in a careless moment, he stepped forward—
Crack! His back seized up.
"Ouch! My back! My back!"
Kitsuchi, setting aside the command issue, quickly helped him up. Moments later, the medical ninja on standby came rushing in, and after some treatment, Ōnoki was physically and mentally settled.
Once calm, he took Kitsuchi's hand. "Our attacks against Konoha aren't progressing well. We can't just sit idle in the village, Kitsuchi. Let's go to the front lines. I'll have a word with Hanzō, while you find out what really happened to Gari!"
Ōnoki was an ambitious leader, unlike Hiruzen, who preferred maintaining the status quo. He sought to elevate Iwa through this Shinobi World War.
His target had never been limited to just Konoha. The evidence lay in the maps hanging on his office wall—maps spanning the Land of Fire, the Land of Frost, and Taki.
In one corner of the map, pinned to the wall with a kunai, was a photo of the Third Raikage, a man renowned for having the strongest spear and the strongest shield.
Ōnoki's ambition was crystal clear.
How could he allow a small country like the Land of Rain to stand in the way of his grand plans?
That afternoon, he and Kitsuchi packed up and left the village.
That same evening, Shin received word of their departure. He sat in his office, reviewing reports as the news arrived.
Surprisingly, the report came not from Akatsuki's intelligence network but from a group of enthusiastic merchants and civilians from the Land of Rain.
His recent restructuring had formally established Akatsuki's local authority, transforming the villagers' voluntary acts of gratitude into obligations of loyalty. Every merchant, every farmer had become eyes and ears for their cause.
The efficiency of intelligence collection greatly improved.
Even Yahiko, who had always prioritized and cared for the villagers, hadn't anticipated how mobilizing ordinary civilians could achieve such a significant impact. Their simple presence in places where ninja would draw attention proved invaluable.
Their collective intelligence capabilities even surpassed that of specialized sensory ninjas at the border. News flowed like water through the countryside, carried by traders' wagons and farmers' gossip.
The enthusiasm of the people was astonishing. Each report came with additional details, observations that only civilians would notice—the number of supply wagons, the mood of the Iwa troops, the whispered conversations in teahouses.
That night, Shin gathered key Akatsuki members to discuss countermeasures. Maps and intelligence reports covered the table between them.
Initially, he was worried that they might be intimidated by Iwa's large-scale mobilization. But before he could start, Kazuya grinned and said, "Your predictions are always spot-on. Iwa really sent their people."
This was his way of apologizing for his earlier optimism. Iwa truly was different from Konoha.
What sounded like clumsy flattery to Shin unexpectedly boosted everyone's morale.
Right.
If Shin had foreseen everything, what was there to fear?
Why do they seem even more confident than I am? I planned to give them a rousing speech, but they're already fired up.
I don't understand, but I'm honestly quite moved...
Skipping the pep talk, he went straight to the point: "This challenge is unlike any before. We don't intend to go to full-scale war with Iwa, nor do they likely want that either. This battle is about using conflict to force peace."
"We must show Iwa that we aren't to be underestimated. We deserve to negotiate as equals."
"As we instill this awareness, we'll subtly signal our intentions, ultimately drawing them to the negotiating table."
Sometimes the best way to avoid a war is to show you're ready for one.
He then passed a scroll around for everyone to review. After reading it, everyone's faces showed subtle shock.
Kazuya, the first to speak, asked, "Is everything in here real?"
Shin smiled. "When we all believe it's real, even lies can become truth."
"Remember, these were intercepted from Root. Once you step outside this room, even if you die, engrave this belief in your minds!"
"And this will be the bargaining chip to bring Iwa to the table!" Let the game begin, Ōnoki. Your move.
---
The next day, in a luxurious, traditional courtyard in Ame, Ōnoki and Hanzō sat across from each other with a tea table between them.
Steam rose from the millet tea and drifted past Hanzō's breathing mask.
"You came?"
"I did."
"You shouldn't have."
Bang!
Ōnoki slammed the table, sending ripples through the untouched tea. This arrogant bastard, acting like he's invincible in his own territory.
"Do you really not understand why I came? Hanzō, do you seriously think of yourself as the god of the shinobi world?"
"I've lost so many teams on your turf; don't you owe me an explanation?"
Since the latter half of last year, Shin had been working tirelessly to mend relations with Hanzō. Like an infatuated admirer, he sent carefully crafted letters of flattery and loyalty, building a foundation of trust that even the paranoid Salamander found impossible to ignore.
Now, all that effort had finally paid off.
Hanzō did not immediately sever ties with Akatsuki or betray them. Instead, he squinted at Ōnoki and let out a cold chuckle from behind his breathing mask.
"You don't seem to be here just for an explanation."
Ōnoki was surprised that his bluff had failed. When did this old war dog grow new teeth?
---
The same confusion struck Kitsuchi on the battlefield.
When they first entered the Land of Rain, they advanced effortlessly, destroying dozens of Akatsuki outposts in succession. Earth-style techniques tore through watchtowers like paper, wooden structures crumbling under their assault.
He had brought fifty ninjas this time, each one handpicked for their destructive capabilities. But when they finally reached the core territory of Akatsuki, everything changed drastically.
They were immediately surrounded by even more Ame ninjas, appearing from the mist like ghosts. Something's wrong. They're too organized.
Thanks to prior intelligence, Shin had already prepared for defensive adjustments and personnel relocation. So, although they lost several outposts, very few were actually harmed, and despite Iwa's rapid advance, they hadn't managed to kill a single Akatsuki member.
Only after they penetrated deeper did Iwa realize their opponents' resolute will to resist. Kitsuchi, like Ōnoki, was confused. Who gave them the courage?
In a gruff tone, he questioned, "Akatsuki, right? Planning to resist to the bitter end? Looks like you really did kill Gari."
Shin stepped forward through the rain. "We have no desire to start a war; it's you who keeps invading our land."
"But you killed our comrade!" Kitsuchi retorted angrily, his fists clenching hard enough to crack the stone coating them.
Shin inwardly rolled his eyes. These fools and their blind loyalty. They ignore reason and cling only to bonds, blind to the facts, loyal only to their comrades... What a classic ninja worldview.
"We didn't do anything. Your friend was already dead when we arrived at the scene. Apparently he died eating a cucumber that was stuck deep in his throat."
"Must have been very delicious and very long," Shin said, smiling softly.
"Is that your explanation?" Kitsuchi's rage neared its peak—this Ame ninja was clearly provoking him.
Sometimes you have to speak their language—violence. And I'll make this lesson particularly memorable.
"Yes. You can't prove he didn't die like that. Some people have such... peculiar tastes. If you refuse to understand, then I also happen to know a thing or two about hand-to-hand combat." Shin shifted subtly into a combat stance, ready for the inevitable clash.
Communication and negotiation only worked when both sides were of equal strength and cautious of each other. But Iwa's opinion of Akatsuki was too low; Shin knew direct talks would lead nowhere, so why pretend to be humble?
These words were just his way of establishing his stance early and taking the high ground, while also taking advantage of Kitsuchi's poor articulation.
Behind him, the Akatsuki members listened with anxiety. They couldn't remember how many years it had been since they'd stood so defiantly in front of ninjas from a major village. The rain soaked through their cloaks, but none moved an inch.
In the past, when they faced elite ninjas from large villages, they could only shrink into corners, standing there like lackeys.
While the peace that Yahiko had promised was certainly appealing, a sense of dignity was also a basic need as human beings. The pride in their eyes shone brighter than any idealistic dream.
And now, only Shin could bring them that sense of pride.
Kitsuchi couldn't hold back any longer and struck first. "Earth Style: Stone Fist Jutsu!"
With his right hand clenched into a fist, a thicker layer of stone covered it from the elbow to the knuckles, chunks of earth rising from the ground to form a gauntlet. He surged forward, the ground cracking beneath his feet as he aimed a punch straight at Shin's face.
Nearby, Nagato immediately raised his hand. Trust in Shin's plan. Control the battlefield.
"Shinra Tensei!"
But instead of targeting Kitsuchi, he used it on the Iwa ninjas who were attempting to follow up and join the fight. Bodies flew backward through the rain like scattered leaves.
Shin had no intention of pushing Iwa to the point of no return, yet he needed to respond firmly and show strength. How to balance this line?
The answer was clear—he had to take down their leader. And it had to be done one-on-one, swiftly and decisively, in front of everyone.
Originally, he had worried what he would do if Ōnoki himself showed up, as he was sure he couldn't take on someone of Kage level. Fortunately, luck was on his side: the Tsuchikage hadn't come, only his son Kitsuchi.
It was still a tough challenge, but one he believed was no longer impossible. He had prepared for this.
Kitsuchi's punch landed, and just as he felt a flash of satisfaction, he heard the panicked shouts of his comrades behind him.
"Captain! What are you doing, Captain?! He's behind you!"
Momentarily confused by his teammates' calls, he blinked in surprise, realizing that the enemy he'd been attacking had vanished like mist in the wind. Genjutsu? When? Damn it!
"You said you only knew a bit about hand-to-hand combat—did you forget to mention genjutsu?!"
And during the entire conversation, Kitsuchi hadn't noticed a single sign of Shin using any hand seals. This could only mean one thing: from the very moment he had appeared, he was ready with a genjutsu.
The brief miscalculation had now led to near-disastrous consequences. Before he could withdraw his punch, he sensed a sharp whistling sound to his side—the sound of a blade cutting through rain. And he could feel the sharp wind chakra approaching.
You call this hand-to-hand combat? Kitsuchi inwardly cursed again. His armor wouldn't be enough against wind-chakra-enhanced steel.
In the split second he had, he twisted his torso, forcing his thick waist and abdomen to twist at an extreme angle, narrowly avoiding a fatal slash.
The rain around the blade's path split in two, showing just how sharp the wind chakra was.
This maneuver alone would have taken Ōnoki out half-dead. But Kitsuchi's body, trained through countless battles, responded with battle-honed reflexes despite its bulk.
Slash!
However, Shin's strike still managed to leave a wound on his side. Kitsuchi ignored the pain and swung his stone-coated right arm down like a hammer, reaching with his left hand to grab a tool from his ninja pouch at his waist.
He pressed forward relentlessly, refusing to yield, each step sending muddy water splashing around them.
But as tough as he was, Shin was tougher. A broken shoulder for a winning position. Fair trade. Let's do it.
After the first successful strike, he stepped in even closer, almost face-to-face with Kitsuchi. He used his shoulder to block Kitsuchi's downward punch, seemingly unfazed by the sickening crack of his own bones.
With his other hand, he drove his wind chakra-infused sword straight through Kitsuchi's wrist as the ninja reached for his pouch.
Ignoring his shattered left shoulder, Shin forced his enemy's left hand out of commission, blocking his ability to make hand seals. Blood ran down the blade, diluted by rain but still unmistakably crimson.
Though his own left arm now hung uselessly at his side, both fighters had been stripped of their ability to use hand seals. Yet in this state, Shin was clearly at the advantage.
Because next, he unleashed his third strike. The air itself seemed to sharpen around his blade, the falling raindrops splitting before they even touched the steel.
With a slight step back to create space, Shin swung his blade upward. "Wind Style: Triple Flash!"
---
A question: Is the chapter length okay, or should I split it into 2 chapters? I just read tips from Webnovel that splitting chapters may be better for gaining more viewers. Though it just creates an illusion of having more to read, when I release one chapter in the morning and one at night, there might really be more traffic.
But personally, it would suck to read chapters that are barely above 1k words. What do you think?
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