Chapter 224 (Patreon)

What did it truly mean to be caught by surprise?

Far away in Amegakure, Hanzo was learning the answer firsthand.

The Third Shinobi World War had erupted without warning—only to come to an equally abrupt end. Hanzo had still been agonizing over whether Amegakure should send reinforcements to Konoha and use the opportunity to strengthen their relationship when news of the ceasefire reached him.

He could only stare at the report in bewilderment.

What in the world were the Five Great Shinobi Villages doing?

Then a message arrived from Konoha.

The Fourth Hokage, Kizaru, had invited him to attend the upcoming Five Kage Summit in Konoha.

The moment Hanzo finished reading the letter, his hand trembled.

The invitation filled him with both delight and unease.

As the leader of a minor shinobi village outside the Five Great Nations, being granted a place at the Five Kage Summit—the highest-level conference in the shinobi world—was an extraordinary honor.

However, the very existence of that summit was deeply troubling.

What could possibly have happened to make the great nations, which had been at war only days earlier, set aside their hatred, agree to a truce, and gather in Konoha?

Something enormous had happened in the shinobi world—something Hanzo knew nothing about.

After receiving the invitation, he did not hesitate. He summoned his most trusted subordinates, arranged Amegakure’s affairs in his absence, and departed with a handpicked escort of elite shinobi.

Hanzo had two reasons for answering so decisively.

First, attending the Five Kage Summit would bring tremendous prestige to a man who led a small village unaffiliated with the Five Great Nations. Second, he trusted both Konoha and its new Hokage.

Ever since Konoha defeated him during the Second Shinobi World War—and Kizaru personally crushed any thought he had of continuing the struggle—Hanzo had abandoned his unrealistic dream of hegemony. Instead, he placed Amegakure firmly beneath Konoha’s protection. In foreign affairs, he followed Konoha’s lead. Within the village, he suppressed opposition and steadily consolidated his rule.

The Hanzo of today no longer harbored any grand ambitions. He merely wanted to remain the undisputed leader of Amegakure and, when the time came, pass that position safely to his descendants.

There was another reason for his loyalty.

Under the reforms spearheaded by Kizaru, Konoha had introduced one new technological product after another, and its economy had flourished. As one of Konoha’s closest allies, Amegakure had shared in that prosperity.

The family established by Hanzo, together with the shinobi who had followed him from the beginning, had secured near-exclusive rights to distribute Konoha’s products throughout the Land of Rain. Every year, those rights earned them an immense profit.

At this point, neither Hanzo nor Amegakure’s leadership could be bribed into turning against Konoha. Even if another great nation offered them money and support, they would bind the envoy on the spot and deliver them to Konoha as proof of Amegakure’s loyalty.

They were not fools.

Following Konoha brought Amegakure wealth, protection, and a steady future. Why would they throw all of that away to fight Konoha at someone else’s request?

Could the other great villages even defeat Konoha?

More importantly, even if they somehow succeeded, what would Amegakure receive in return?

Would they hand over the fertile lands of the Land of Fire? Would they share Konoha’s vast collection of ninjutsu? Of course not. At most, Amegakure would be allowed to seize a fraction of the wealth left behind by a few nobles.

Anyone with sense could distinguish a momentary windfall from lasting prosperity.

That was why Amegakure had long since become one of Konoha’s most steadfast allies.

As its ruler and the strongest voice of the pro-Konoha faction, Hanzo understood this better than anyone. The moment Kizaru’s message arrived, he set out without the slightest delay.

The Fourth Hokage had personally summoned him and, by including him in the conference, had elevated Amegakure’s standing. Hanzo understood what was expected of him. He had to arrive promptly and make both his loyalty and gratitude clear.

By the time Hanzo left Amegakure, Black Zetsu had already reached the Land of Grass with the Uchiha prisoner he had taken from Konoha.

Madara Uchiha was waiting inside the underground base when Black Zetsu arrived.

“Madara-sama, I brought someone.”

Black Zetsu threw the unconscious man to the ground before him.

“He is an Uchiha jōnin.”

Madara looked down at the emaciated prisoner without the slightest change in expression.

“You went to Konoha?”

“The Uzumaki orphan has been moving from place to place under false identities. Finding him has proven more difficult than expected,” Black Zetsu explained. “To complete your order as quickly as possible, I took the risk of infiltrating Konoha’s prison and removed this man instead.”

Madara stepped forward. Chakra flowed from his hand as he examined the prisoner’s condition.

“Once Hashirama’s cells are transplanted into him, he should be barely usable.”

“That was my assessment as well,” Black Zetsu replied with a smile.

“You have done well, Black Zetsu.”

“I merely carried out your orders, Madara-sama.”

Black Zetsu lowered his head, showing no sign of taking pride in the praise.

Meanwhile, in the Hokage’s office, Kizaru sat behind his desk while the commander of the ANBU, Sakumo Hatake, stood before him.

Kizaru had just revealed the full scope of his plan to one of the men he trusted most.

Like everyone else who had heard it, Sakumo wore a complicated expression. Shock was plainly visible in his eyes.

Silence lingered between them for some time before Sakumo finally answered.

He did not say whether he agreed or disagreed.

“I will follow your decision, Hokage-sama.”

“Sakumo-san, you’re one of the friends I trust most,” Kizaru said. “There’s no need for a formal answer between us. I want to hear what you truly think.”

A plan of this scale could not survive a leak. More importantly, Kizaru needed companions who shared his vision—not subordinates who merely obeyed his commands.

Sakumo considered his words before speaking.

“I’m worried about whether we truly have the ability to govern a country that large.”

A nation as vast as the Land of Fire depended on countless officials and nobles to administer its territory. If Konoha swept them all away and took control of the entire land, Sakumo could not imagine how the village would manage it.

“If we don’t have enough capable people, then we’ll train them,” Kizaru replied. “We cannot abandon the future we want simply because reaching it will be difficult.”

Of course, Kizaru understood how hard it would be to govern such an enormous territory.

If postwar administration had not been a concern, he would have chosen a far simpler path long ago: advance without stopping, overwhelm every opponent, and seize one territory after another.

“If you’ve already considered that, then I have no objection,” Sakumo said. “I support the plan.”

His greatest fear had been that Kizaru, having risen to fame at such a young age, might allow his ambition to outrun his judgment. One step taken too far could plunge the entire world into chaos.

If that happened, all of Kizaru’s wisdom and achievements would be forgotten. History would remember him only as a tyrant.

That was the last thing Sakumo wanted. His concern for Kizaru was sincere.

Kizaru laughed, rose from his chair, and stopped in front of him.

“Hohoho~ I promise you, Sakumo-san, you won’t regret the choice you made today.” His usual smile remained on his face. “Together, we’ll create a new world—a world where peace can finally endure.”

“I truly want to see that world,” Sakumo said, longing entering his voice.

“Then come with me. It’s time to take the first step.”

With that, Kizaru led the curious Sakumo out of the Hokage’s office and away from the Hokage Building.

It was already late afternoon, and the sun had begun to sink. Beneath its fading light, the two men made their way toward the Senju clan estate.

There was a reason Kizaru had chosen that day to reveal his hand to Sakumo and bring him into his innermost circle.

Before the night was over, he intended to settle something of immense importance—something that would one day shake the entire world.

Inside the reception room of the Senju clan’s main residence, Chiyo, the Fourth Kazekage of Sunagakure, and Hanzo of Amegakure were already seated.

Tsunade, Hiruzen Sarutobi, and Danzō were keeping them company.

Hiruzen still did not know why Kizaru had invited the leaders of Sunagakure and Amegakure to a private gathering at the Senju estate. Danzō had arrived with a knowing smile and all but dragged him along.

Hiruzen had questioned him repeatedly on the way, but Danzō refused to explain. He only said that something capable of changing the entire structure of the shinobi world would happen that night—and that Hiruzen would regret missing it.

The more cryptic Danzō became, the more curious Hiruzen grew. At the same time, he could not suppress a trace of unease.

His disciple’s ideas were often impossible to predict, and Kizaru’s ambition was unlike anything Hiruzen had ever encountered. More than once, the young man had frightened him with the sheer scale of his plans.

Chiyo and Hanzo knew even less. Both had accepted the invitation without being told the purpose of the private dinner, and both were eager to learn why Kizaru had gathered them there.

They did not have to wait long.

Kizaru, having left work early, slid open the wooden door with Sakumo beside him. He kept one hand in his pocket while holding the door with the other.

“Oooh~ I hope I haven’t kept everyone waiting.”

“Not at all,” Hanzo answered at once, smiling warmly. “We only just arrived.”

Kizaru entered with Sakumo and slid the door shut behind them. He then walked naturally to the seat at the head of the low table and sat down.

He was the youngest person in the room, yet no one found it improper—not even his teacher, Hiruzen.

After motioning for Sakumo to sit beside his uncle, Danzō, Kizaru swept his smiling gaze across the room.

All conversation had ceased the moment he entered. Every eye was now fixed on him.

Even Chiyo merely cast a brief glance at Sakumo—the man who had killed her son and daughter-in-law—before returning her attention to Kizaru.

Kizaru noticed the small movement. He looked from her to Sakumo before finally speaking.

“Granny Chiyo, when we met on the battlefield, each of us was fighting for our own side. Your son and daughter-in-law died at Sakumo-san’s hands, and I was the one who stopped you from reaching them.” His voice lost a trace of its usual lightness. “I’ve always felt some guilt over that.”

Chiyo’s expression shifted when he raised the subject so suddenly, but she quickly concealed it behind a faint smile.

“The moment they chose to enter the battlefield, they accepted that either side could live or die,” she replied. “They died fighting for their country. They were simply unfortunate. I cannot blame either of you for that.”

“They died for their country...” Kizaru repeated slowly. “But was that death truly worthwhile? Was that country worth dying for?”

The atmosphere changed at once.

Everyone’s expression shifted except for Tsunade’s and Danzō’s.

As the leader of Sunagakure’s faction that favored yielding to Konoha, Chiyo had already formed a rough idea of what Kizaru might want from this meeting. She quietly observed the surprise on Hanzo’s face, then suppressed her smile and allowed a hint of anger to enter her expression.

“Fourth Hokage, are you saying that my son and daughter-in-law died for nothing?” she asked. “That there was no value in their deaths?”

“No. Their deaths carried great meaning.” Kizaru’s gaze grew distant. “It was because of their deaths that your grandson, Sasori, once asked me a question. Ever since then, I’ve found myself wondering the same thing.”

He paused before asking:

“Whom do shinobi fight for? And whom do we die for?”

Kizaru then turned toward Hanzo.

“Hanzo-senpai, I’ve heard that when you were young, you often thought about how lasting peace might be brought to the shinobi world. Can you answer that question for me?”

Caught off guard by being addressed so suddenly, Hanzo hesitated. After thinking for a moment, he gave the answer he believed was safest.

“Shinobi fight to protect their countries.”

“If that’s true, then why did Granny Chiyo’s son and daughter-in-law die on the soil of the Land of Rain?” Kizaru asked.

Hanzo’s expression froze.

Only then did he remember that, during the very war in which Chiyo’s son and daughter-in-law had fallen, he had secretly betrayed intelligence to Konoha.

“Then... perhaps shinobi fight for the interests of their villages?”

His voice faltered slightly when he noticed Chiyo’s unfriendly gaze.

Hanzo was already cursing inwardly.

Do not involve me in this conversation! I came here to attend a dinner and demonstrate Amegakure’s goodwill!

“Interests...” Kizaru nodded. “A fine answer.”

He leaned back slightly before continuing.

“Then let us assume that shinobi fight and die for the interests of their villages. Now, imagine that Sunagakure defeated both Konoha and Amegakure during the war in the Land of Rain. Imagine that it seized the entire Land of Rain and even occupied part of the Land of Fire.”

Kizaru paused. He glanced first at Hanzo, whose face had grown increasingly stiff, and then at Chiyo, who was listening with complete attention.

“Who would those conquered lands belong to? The shinobi of Sunagakure, or the daimyo and nobles of the Land of Wind? Who would govern those lands? And who would receive most of the wealth they produced?”

Everyone present held a high position within a shinobi village. They already knew the answer.

“The daimyo and the nobles,” Chiyo replied.

“Then what would we receive?” Kizaru asked. “What would the shinobi who gave their lives receive?”

“The village would receive additional funding and supplies,” Chiyo answered. “The families of the fallen would receive compensation.”

“So shinobi sacrifice their lives to conquer precious land, only for their village to receive a payment in return,” Kizaru said bluntly. “And perhaps not even a generous payment. I’ve heard quite a lot about the daimyo and nobles of the Land of Wind.”

Chiyo’s hand tightened beneath the table.

As the Fourth Kazekage, she dealt with the daimyo and his nobles far too often. She knew exactly how greedy and self-indulgent they were.

Now that Kizaru had forced her to consider the war from this perspective, the deaths of her son and daughter-in-law no longer felt worthwhile.

“Fourth Hokage, I believe I understand what you’re trying to say,” Chiyo said solemnly. “Why don’t we speak plainly?”

Rather than answer, Kizaru turned toward the other guest.

“What about you, Hanzo-senpai? Do you understand?”

His concerned tone made him sound like a teacher patiently questioning a student who had fallen behind.

Hanzo understood part of Kizaru’s argument, but he had not yet grasped its full meaning. However, he had no intention of embarrassing himself in front of so many people—least of all his old enemy, Chiyo.

He nodded with a grave expression, pretending that everything was perfectly clear.

“As expected of Hanzo-senpai,” Kizaru said respectfully.

He had seen through the act immediately, but he offered the compliment all the same.

Hanzo returned a dignified nod, maintaining his composure.

“Everything I’ve said comes down to one point,” Kizaru continued. “We may belong to different villages, but beneath those loyalties, we share the same identity. We are shinobi.”

His gaze moved slowly across the room.

“The lives of shinobi should not be treated as something cheap. We command the greatest power in this world. We possess abilities and knowledge that most people could never attain. There is no reason for us to live as disposable tools.”

His smile remained, but his voice carried unmistakable conviction.

“We should live better lives. More importantly, we deserve to.”

Hanzo’s heartbeat quickened.

This time, he understood.

He stared at Kizaru in shock as an audacious possibility took shape in his mind.

“Fourth Hokage... are you suggesting—”

Hanzo stopped before finishing the sentence.

There were certain intentions Kizaru could declare openly. Hanzo himself could not afford to voice them first.

“This isn’t only about what I want, Hanzo-senpai,” Kizaru said with a meaningful smile. “You should ask yourself what you want.”

What did he want?

Wealth? Authority? Status?

If it was possible, Hanzo wanted all of them.

“There are things we shinobi must risk our lives to obtain,” Kizaru continued, “yet some people possess those same things from the moment they’re born. Do you believe that’s fair?”

“No. It isn’t fair!” Hanzo answered without hesitation.

Memories he had buried long ago began to surface.

When he was a child, the people of his village had implanted the venom sac of a black salamander into his body. He had survived by the narrowest possible margin.

He remembered the grueling training of his childhood, the relentless struggle of his youth, and the countless battles he had fought as an adult. Only after enduring all of it had he finally earned a life comparable to that of a wealthy noble.

He had sacrificed so much and come close to death so many times merely to reach the place where a noble began at birth.

Worse still, there was no guarantee that the legacy Hanzo had built could be passed safely to his son. Among shinobi, authority ultimately rested on strength.

The nobles were different.

Their wealth, authority, and status could pass from one generation to the next for no reason beyond their so-called noble blood.

Why should that be allowed?

“Exactly. It isn’t fair,” Kizaru said. “Yet this injustice has endured for thousands of years.”

Hanzo and Chiyo both felt waves rising within their hearts. The ambition hidden behind Kizaru’s words had shaken them completely.

Chiyo was especially stunned.

At first, she had assumed Kizaru merely intended to absorb Sunagakure and Amegakure, expanding Konoha and the Land of Fire into an unprecedentedly powerful kingdom.

But his ambition went far beyond anything she had imagined.

Kizaru did not merely want a larger Land of Fire.

He wanted to create an entirely new Konoha—one vast enough to encompass the whole world.

“Fourth Hokage, if word of your intentions gets out, every nation will turn against you and Konoha,” Chiyo warned. “Even the Land of Fire will become your enemy. Aren’t you afraid?”

Kizaru’s smile was utterly confident.

“I can assure you... none of them would want that day to come.”

His answer left Chiyo and Hanzo puzzled.

No matter how powerful Kizaru and Konoha had become, could they truly wage war against the entire world? If the Land of Fire withdrew its funding and supplies, how could a single shinobi village sustain such a conflict?

“You know me,” Kizaru continued, his expression almost compassionate. “I’m a kind man. I would rather not stain my hands with too much blood.”

His smile deepened by the slightest degree.

“So I truly hope they’ll understand.”

A chill passed through the room.

Kizaru had not raised his voice. He had not released so much as a trace of chakra. Even so, both Chiyo and Hanzo sensed the killing intent concealed beneath those gentle words.

If that day ever came, Kizaru would eliminate every enemy standing in his path—even if an entire nation had to disappear with them.

The choice he offered was brutally simple.

Stand with him and survive—or oppose him and be destroyed.