The next day, wearing his twin hats as Chief of the Ninshū and Aide to the Mizukage, Yorin inspected Mist's war footing.
Result: barely satisfactory.
Gear was dated, tactics and professionalism lacking here and there—but morale and baseline quality of personnel were fairly solid.
Part of that came from abolishing the brain-dead "Blood Mist" policy everyone hated. Part came from Yorin's house-to-house handout of half a hog per family.
Most important, though, was the explosive potential unlocked once they plugged into Konoha's transport network.
Land of Water isn't built for big wagons; it's built for big boats. In some ways, the potential is even greater—after all, even the hassled Arctic route beats a clattering land train across a continent, doesn't it?
The errors of the past were corrected; empty stomachs today were filled; the future found direction.
Credit for all of it—one man: Uchiha Yorin.
Following New Konoha Daily, New Mist Daily launched with gusto. The cats nearly worked themselves to death on overtime, and Yorin's approval in Mist shot skyward like a rocket.
In every teahouse, tavern, and nightclub, Uchiha Media's docents preached Yorin's deeds, how New Mist differed from the old, and what the Ninshū's revival would bring to the world.
So even when he wasn't there, his legend was everywhere.
Even little shops selling tri-color dango ran ads: "Yorin-sama ate our dango, declared it delicious, and felt ten feet tall—then he defeated the wicked Hozuki clan's rebels and toppled Yagura's brutal rule!"
Shinobi are simple. With such constant talk (and show), Mist's loyalty soared—wilder than Amegakure's had. They'd been thoroughly brainwashed into Yorin-shaped shinobi.
Thus the inspection ended with "acceptable." Mist's population and troop numbers weren't huge, but the army's heart was usable.
At the same time, up-and-comers like Momochi Zabuza, Hoshigaki Kisame, and Ringo Ameyuri showed strong buy-in to New Mist, willing to fight for the life they now had.
And Orochimaru brought a small surprise.
"This kid seems eager for the front," he said. "And rounding up, he is sort of a Mist shinobi—might help a little."
Whether to please the big spender Yorin or harvest first-hand field data, Orochimaru sent back a tuned-up Kaguya Kimimaro.
For now Kimimaro had neither a Curse Mark nor the "dying soon" debuff. He'd been smooth-talked by Orochimaru—but only to "elite jōnin." And since Orochimaru had now bought into the "Senju+Uchiha=Six Paths" mega-pitch, Kimimaro's body no longer interested him, so the kid wasn't as far gone as in canon.
"Elite jōnin, huh…" Yorin gave Kimimaro a few words of encouragement, slotted him into New Mist's elite strike team, then frowned.
The talent gap in Mist was… serious. Not one active Kage-class?
Kisame at full bloom should reach it; Kimimaro, healthy and driven, could break through; and of course Mei. In theory, a future peak Mist could field three Kage-levels—but that was future, not now.
As for Chōjūrō—forget it. Even if he's "Kage-class," he's the Mizukage who sits at the kiddie table with non-boosted Danzo.
Should he use an "Heroic Spirit Summoning" and drag out former Mizukage to fill the dais?
After a beat, Yorin sighed: no. Mist's loyalty was high now, but shifting identity from "Mist" (home province) to "Ninshū" (nation) would take time; he didn't want to spend down the scarce loyalty he'd banked.
"So it'll have to be me," he thought—and felt a little thrill.
Kumo is great—so great. That's where the big-framed brawlers and the big-framed blondes come from. The former can brawl fist-to-fist till sparks fly; the latter can be courteously escorted to his basement to happily expand the Senju imperial harem. A happy end, indeed.
He could hardly wait to collide with them.
"Hard to think I started on Lightning Armor," he mused. Now his Lightning Cloak had merged with a youthful Susanoo, but nostalgia tugged. This time he'd pit his "upgraded-upgrade" against their genuine Lightning Cloak—tempting!
…
Meanwhile, the Hidden Cloud boiled.
If Konoha has the most home-defense conservatives, Kumo is the five great nations' most aggressive. They share something of Old Qin's joy at the scent of battle.
The chance to slam into the Uchiha's super-ace had Kumo's elites rolling up banners.
"Fight! Fight the hell out of 'em!"
"With full mobilization we can pull twenty thousand. Konoha's force facing us is fifteen thousand!"
"Two-to-one point three—advantage Kumo!"
"And that Uchiha pretty-boy leading them—maybe we snatch him and breed ourselves a Hidden Cloud branch of the Uchiha, hee-hee-hee!"
"Uchiha Yorin, right? I'm gonna cut him then bury him then cut him again and bury him again—till there's nothing left!"
…
Fourth Raikage A looked across the roomful of capering demons and felt a migraine spike—blood pressure over three hundred. He wanted to punch a Lightning Release: Lariat through the world.
"Shut up."
Silence fell.
They were maniacs, but they respected (feared) A more—even than their own mania.
Though the A clan practically inherited the Raikage's seat, unlike other villages' master-disciple lines, it didn't matter—because the A's really were Kumo's strongest.
Third A fought ten thousand Iwa shinobi three days and nights, dying only of exhaustion, even beating tailed beasts; Fourth A was no worse, maybe better.
"You think war is clowning? You think the 'Konoha Flame Claw' is some weakling? He smashed Yagura—Yagura. Even for me, going full power only gives me a chance!
"And that nonsense about capturing him alive to breed a Cloud Uchiha—keep that attitude and you'll die without knowing how."
Chastened, the old guard, Yugito, Killer Bee, Mabui—the whole high command—fell meek.
"Good. Now prepare. And no, we're not 'all-out.' We must leave a force to guard against Mist."
"So if they send fifteen thousand, we send fifteen thousand," he finished.
"Is that really enough?" Some worried Kumo overrated Mist and underrated Konoha. Yet they couldn't find a better plan.
The Land of Lightning's geography is what it is—long and thin, with far too many landing points. Even Hitler balked at guarding Spain's coastline; Lightning's is worse.
A's gaze swept the room. "Any other views? Bee?"
His loyal younger brother raised his hand. "Big Bro—if you need full power just to 'have a chance,' what if both of us go? Wouldn't that be a sure win?"
"That…" A grunted, then understood. "Fine. Cheer up, you lot. Maybe the chance to build our own Uchiha clan in Kumo isn't so far-fetched."
At that, the room erupted again.
"If Raikage and Bee go together—no problem!"
"We'll beat him, bag him, and work him hard—hyeh-hyeh-hyeh!"
Kumo's war council turned to froth again, dreaming of Yorin's defeat, of Cloud with Sharingan in hand, of marching banners.
Into the Pass! Into the Pass!
Living on a relatively barren peninsula, the men of Lightning's favorite pastime is to go south—to raid richer lands.
Internal troubles? Lacking grain? Resources, money, tech? Easy—strike Fire Country, rob Fire Country, and all will be well.
And now, they add one more to the list—Kekkei Genkai.
What Cloud lacks in bloodlines, Cloud will steal.
"Sharpen those Lightning-Fire blades and wait!"
"Like building a harem, right?! We'll find a million big-hipped gals and let him… cross swords!"
(They howled. A just clenched his jaw and started drawing up the order of battle.)
~~~
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