Three days later.
The air of early spring should have been dry. But sotis, human beings truly can’t predict how the weather will shift. Just like how the Land of Rain suffers downpour year-round—no one can really explain why. And even in the Land of Fire, where the seasons are distinct, unusual weather appeared from ti to ti.
Late winter moving into early spring. The air still carried a bite of cold, yet instead of the expected dryness, the humidity slowly rose.
Konoha’s villagers and ninja gathered early around the central plaza where the Wall of Honor stood, waiting in silence.
Before long…
Two lines of people slowly entered the square. The Iwagakure envoy, newly arrived in Konoha, was escorted straight here under Team Night Owl’s watch.
Ōnoki’s expression was heavy, tinged with helplessness. But beneath the resignation… sat humiliation. And hatred.
To bow his head in an enemy village—especially the village that had nearly annihilated his holand—and even apologize? It was unbearable. Yet he had no choice.
Konoha’s overwhelming power left him no room to resist. If he didn’t submit, Iwagakure would be erased.
Perhaps once upon a ti, they had a counterasure: before Konoha could make a move, join forces with the other four great villages and launch a rciless assault. Just like in the Third Shinobi World War. But that alliance never ca to be.
Now Iwagakure’s strength had hit rock bottom, and rebuilding would take at least ten years—years they didn’t have. And how to even survive those ten years was a problem in itself. The yearly tribute they owed Konoha only made their burden heavier.
Under these conditions, they no longer had the leverage to rally other villages against Konoha. In fact, with Konoha stronger than ever, the other villages had no desire to attack it. Instead, their attention drifted toward the weakened Land of Earth.
So Ōnoki couldn’t gamble. He didn’t even have the right to risk everything in a final stand. As the Tsuchikage, all he could do was co to Konoha in person and bow his head.
It was the greatest sha of his life. Even worse than the ti, before the First Shinobi World War, when he ca with the Second Tsuchikage, Mu, to seek an alliance—only to be forced back by a single look from Madara Uchiha.
Decades of life… and in the end, I fall because of you.
Hakken Yoru.
At the entrance to the plaza, the Iwagakure delegation continued slowly forward. Ōnoki’s eyes locked onto the boy ahead—one hand casually holding a Zanpakutō, the other lifting a drink in relaxed indifference.
His sword was different now. Its aura felt raw, stripped down, almost natural… and yet, the mont Ōnoki probed deeper, a tremor ran through him.
That destructive force crushed the last remnants of defiance in his chest. He’s grown stronger again.
What a terrifying genius. Why do such people always appear in Konoha?
The Sannin of the Second Shinobi World War… Hatake Sakumo… The Yellow Flash, Minato Namikaze… Shisui of the Body Flicker during the Third…
This village.
Ōnoki clenched his fist, finally forced to concede the truth. This land truly produced monsters—the title of the First Shinobi Village was no exaggeration.
In the end, his gaze shifted to the other group approaching the Wall of Honor… and to the young man walking at its head.
The Fourth Kazekage, Rasa, had finally arrived.
His expression wasn’t much different from Ōnoki’s, but there was a hint of schadenfreude tugging at the corners of his lips. This ti, at least, he’d chosen to be the sensible one.
Even with Sunagakure’s elders protesting, he had rushed all the way to Konoha. One glance at Ōnoki’s condition told him Iwagakure’s suffering was no exaggeration.
If that was the case, then why couldn’t he lower his head as well, when another Kage was already doing the sa?
In terms of military and national strength, the Land of Earth clearly surpassed the Land of the Wind. If even they obediently dragged themselves to Konoha to apologize, why couldn’t he? He was no fool.
The Land of the Wind couldn’t withstand Konoha’s relentless pressure.
Ōnoki let out a cold snort, abandoning any urge to speak with Rasa. Sunagakure and Iwagakure held plenty of grudges against each other, but at the mont, the Land of Earth was undeniably suffering more. That alone eased Rasa’s spirit considerably.
The Land of the Wind was being exploited harshly—but soone else was worse off.
People always found comfort in such comparisons.
His ambition…
Chiyo, walking behind Rasa, kept her eyes on Hakken Yoru.
I am who I am.
Just four words, yet Chiyo heard within them layers of aning.
I am not anyone else, nor do I seek to surpass anyone.
Because they were never worth surpassing. Even their nas would only be carved beneath mine.
What an overwhelming spirit.
But even the God of Ninjas couldn’t accomplish such a feat.
Can you truly do it?
That was where Chiyo’s doubt lingered.
Even so, whether she wanted to admit it or not, once that boy fully matured, he truly seed to possess the power to realize such ambition.
Has soone finally appeared capable of surpassing the Ninja God?
Chiyo quietly exhaled.
Look at Konoha—it was shifting steadily in the direction he envisioned. That sensation of constant change was sothing Sunagakure had never known.
Step by step, the two envoy groups reached the base of the magnificent Wall of Honor.
The Monunt of Heroes.
The tightly packed nas, the inscriptions detailing their valor… both Ōnoki and Rasa felt their hearts shake.
It was as if those unfamiliar spirits stood before them, staring straight into them.
Where did this pressure—this force compelling them to bow—co from?
At the sides of the plaza, beside the Wall of Honor, Team Owl was already assembled. Standing before them was the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze.
For Konoha, this was far more than a ceremony to witness an apology.
It was a rebirth.
The first ti, when they faced Kumogakure, they declared themselves the First Shinobi Village—an act of courage and resolve. This second ti, to make two Kage apologize before the Monunt to the Fallen, was action.
Different in form.
The sa in aning.
Konoha had been reborn.
When the first icy raindrop fell from the sky, Jiraiya, standing nearby, suddenly understood sothing. A tear slipped down his cheek.
From the First Shinobi World War to the Third, Konoha—yearning for peace—had paid the steepest price.
Perhaps what the fallen heroes wanted most… was this long-overdue apology.
Hakken.
You are the Child of the Prophecy.
His gaze fell upon the youth.
Not far away, Tsunade shook her head. For Konoha, for her, this was a mont of true history.
If Grandfather could see this… he would be deeply comforted.
Compared to the village’s current atmosphere, this was perhaps Konoha’s greatest transformation.
He had really done it.
A bow of apology, the signing of an unconditional ceasefire treaty.
The two Kage slowly walked toward the plaza exit.
Hakken had not forced them to kneel. Those who inherit the will of the Kage—
Unless dead, they would never kneel.
And clearly, they were far more valuable alive than dead.
But this…
Lifting his head as the icy rain struck his face, Hakken slowly drew the Zanpakutō at his waist.
“Konoha… is the First Shinobi Village!”
“The sunlight breaking through the clouds is what we should truly see!”
Swish.
Draw. Sheath.
A black-gold blade of light pierced the sky.
Villagers and ninja alike raised their heads. Through the cleft the blade carved in the clouds, a ray of sunlight shone down. Instinctively, their hands reached out toward it.
Warmth filled with light—a rebirth after the gloom.
This was their Konoha.
The Third Shinobi World War had, at last, co to a complete end.
Reviews
All reviews (0)