Three days later, in Iwagakure's hospital, Ōnoki slowly opened his eyes.
"This is… Iwagakure. I remember… I lost."
His head throbbed. He wanted to say more, but nothing came out.
"I'm actually still alive? Honestly… it might've been better if I'd just died."
His memories gradually returned—he'd lost the duel against Uchiha Yorin.
That defeat meant Iwa's defeat as well. Iwagakure still had twenty thousand shinobi, and if they pushed it, they could mobilize even more, but after Ōnoki's loss their morale had completely collapsed. They had no strength left to stand against the four-village alliance.
So now, had he returned to Iwagakure as a prisoner of war?
Ōnoki couldn't help thinking that, when he heard his granddaughter Kurotsuchi's voice.
"Grandpa!"
The sound gave him a bit of comfort. There's hardly anything more reassuring, when you wake up gravely injured, than having family at your bedside.
But that feeling was quickly swallowed up by responsibility and worry.
"How's the situation? Where's Akatsuchi? What's happening with the battle?"
"Don't worry, Grandpa. The fighting's already over."
Kurotsuchi's face showed a mix of relief and sadness.
"Dad is negotiating with the coalition right now. He's really worried about you, but under the circumstances he can't leave. These past few days, I've been here with everyone, taking care of you."
"Mm. That's as it should be. The village comes before me… So. We really did lose, then?"
It was a tough question to answer, but in the end Kurotsuchi still managed a reluctant nod.
"Yes, Grandpa… we really did lose."
Ōnoki fell silent.
Even though he'd been mentally prepared for it, hearing the words out loud still hit him hard.
After a long, heavy pause, he finally spoke again.
"It couldn't be helped… Tell me. What conditions did Konoha put on the table? Are they harsh?"
"Well… honestly, I don't think they're that harsh."
Kurotsuchi described the parts she understood.
As yet another defeated village, the peace treaty Kasugakure signed with Iwa was almost identical to the ceasefire with Kumo, differing only in what each side specialized in and how cooperation would work.
Kumo excelled in machinery and materials science, so there they were setting up joint machine-tool plants and planning railroads and trucks in the future.
Iwa, on the other hand, was strong in biotechnology, so our cooperation was focused on medicine and pharmaceuticals, plus cloning and genetic engineering down the line.
…
After hearing this, Ōnoki let out a long breath—and his earlier guess grew firmer in his mind.
Uchiha Yorin was not a stereotypical Uchiha. He was nothing like those maniacs in the scrolls who ranted about destroying or conquering the world while cackling like lunatics.
The difference was that Yorin, while possessing overwhelming power, also had a very polished soft-power toolkit.
If it were someone like Uchiha Madara, that kind of insane tyrant you just grit your teeth and resist, even if it kills you.
But in Uchiha Yorin's case—given how relatively measured and clever his rule seemed—then if you really no longer had the strength to oppose him… wouldn't outright surrender actually be the more rational, more "elevated" choice?
Ōnoki sank into thought.
At least for now, Uchiha Yorin looked like a decisive, shrewd leader who always had a way forward.
A bit unhinged, sure—but given he was Uchiha, that was practically expected.
He might only hold the title of "Kage's Aide," but in reality he was the coalition commander-in-chief. With Iwagakure's surrender, the shinobi world had achieved a sort of proto-unification. Calling Uchiha Yorin the de facto supreme leader of the ninja world wouldn't be wrong.
If that were the case, then perhaps Iwa's future path should be that kind of path…
"Grandpa…"
Seeing his expression, Kurotsuchi assumed he was still upset about losing the duel and started to worry, thinking she should try to comfort him.
But before she could say anything, he lifted a hand to stop her, and instead asked cautiously:
"Kurotsuchi… what kind of person do you think Uchiha Yorin is?"
The leggy little Tsuchikage-in-training found that question very strange—but since he'd asked, she hesitated only over how to answer.
Her hesitation, of course, didn't fool Ōnoki at all.
"Just say what you really think."
"Ah… okay," Kurotsuchi nodded. "At first, I thought he wasn't any different from the ambitious Uchiha warlords in the records—just another crazy who wants to conquer the world. But after a few… encounters, I realized he's actually…"
"Actually what?"
"Actually… pretty capable."
Her ears flushed as she said it. Then she relayed the ideas Yorin had shared with Iwagakure.
In Uchiha Yorin's view, Iwa's talents—vomiting concrete, reshaping stone, altering terrain—were tremendously valuable in civil engineering.
The shinobi world was bursting with raw life. Excessive natural energy meant that ninety percent of the land—or more—remained in a wild, undeveloped state.
If the shinobi world kept waging yet another world war every decade, with no one building anything and everyone wallowing in the mud, then of course Iwa's "walking construction crews" would never realize their potential.
But if peace did hold… then in the coming era of rapid growth, there would be endless work.
Continent-spanning rail networks. Modern cities. Canal systems, dams.
All of that would be prime Iwa territory.
It'd be exhausting construction work—but it would also pay insanely well. You don't go hungry doing that.
"This is the plan Uchiha Yorin laid out for Iwagakure," Kurotsuchi said. "And the future he offered us."
"He wants to create a whole new world, and he needs Iwa for that. So, Grandpa…"
"I see." Ōnoki nodded. Truthfully, when he'd first asked that question, he hadn't been fishing for this answer—he'd wanted to know whether Kurotsuchi had feelings for Yorin.
But the actual answer was even better than his best expectation.
With his years of experience, it was obvious: Yorin's blueprint was sound. If it actually came to fruition, Iwa would be in a very good place.
At the same time, though, once Iwa fully transformed into a professional civil-engineering corps, they'd naturally lose all appetite for world domination.
The logic was simple: only when the market is flourishing and mega-projects are abundant does construction make money.
That would align Iwa's economic interests with peace, stability, and prosperity. Once that happened, Iwa would become a peace-loving player—not because their hearts or ideals had changed, but because their economy had.
This was a transparent strategy—and a brilliant one.
"Impressive… these youngsters really are something else," Ōnoki sighed.
"Yes. Even though he's our enemy, I think Uchiha Yorin is a really incredible person too," Kurotsuchi said, unable to hide some pride at her grandfather's praise.
Seeing that proud little smile, Ōnoki sighed inwardly: "Girls really can't be kept." And his earlier conclusion only grew firmer.
"And what about his character?" he asked.
"?"
Kurotsuchi wasn't stupid. The earlier question about his ability could be explained away, but asking about his character had only one obvious meaning.
"Grandpa, what are you implying?" she blurted, her face going red.
"I'm saying this: from the look of things, the future of the shinobi world belongs to Uchiha Yorin. We're the last ones to board this hypothetical train. If Iwagakure wants any initiative in the world to come, we'll need a deeper tie with him."
"Grandpa… you mean, you want me to…" Kurotsuchi's expression soured. "He's already got nearly double digits of girlfriends, doesn't he?"
"What's wrong with a man having a few extra wives?" Ōnoki snorted. "And it's not like his women are some random riffraff. In identity and ability, they're all more than worthy of you."
"…"
"More importantly," he went on, "it's not like you don't have feelings for him. Don't think I don't know you slipped into his camp before our duel."
"At the time, we were still enemies, but he quietly sent you back untouched… Come on, tell me: how long have you two known each other? Already secretly engaged?"
"Before, we were enemies, so it couldn't be helped, Kurotsuchi. But now it's settled—we've made peace. There's no obstacle anymore.
So go. Go after your own happiness, girl. Go chase the love you want!"
Half encouragement, half blatant goading—Ōnoki's words made Kurotsuchi turn as red as a tomato.
"Grandpa, what are you even talking about?! There's nothing like that between me and Yorin-kun!!"
"Then what do you call it?"
"Of course it's…"
She wanted to say "I tried to assassinate him and he let me go," but that was too mortifying to explain, so the words jammed in her throat.
Seeing her stammer like that only confirmed Ōnoki's suspicions.
He understood now. Even old as he was, he still recognized tsundere when he saw it.
Unable to take any more, Kurotsuchi socked him once and shouted:
"Grandpa's an IDIOT!!"
Then she bolted.
"Don't forget—do your best, Kurotsuchi!"
Even as his granddaughter ran off on the verge of tears, Ōnoki still called after her.
"The future of Iwagakure is riding on you!"
Uchiha Yorin: "?"
Uchiha Yorin: "…What the hell?"
After being informed that Ōnoki had woken up, Yorin arrived at the hospital just in time to see Kurotsuchi run past him. One look at her flustered retreat and he was completely baffled.
After that, he went in to pay his respects to the elder Tsuchikage. Seeing that Ōnoki's life wasn't in danger, he relaxed a bit.
After all, his long-term plan was to integrate the power of all five great villages and unify the shinobi world. Whether by force or diplomacy, conquest was only a means, not the end.
If possible, it was always better to keep casualties low and leave as few hidden wounds as possible.
If he wanted Iwa to evolve into a professional construction corps, but turned around and killed their Tsuchikage, that would be… awkward, to say the least.
…
Seeing that Ōnoki still had some fire in his eyes, Yorin explained his idea in more detail: Iwa would be upgraded into a pro-level civil engineering force; jōnin would become engineers, the Tsuchikage would basically be a general contractor.
"With this, I guarantee you'll make a fortune," Yorin said. "I wouldn't lie to you, Ōnoki-senpai."
What annoyed him was that Ōnoki didn't seem particularly invested in the real estate and construction angle. He nodded along, saying, "Fine, fine, sure, Iwagakure will cooperate," but Yorin was sharp enough to see the old man was just humoring him.
Which was weird.
On paper this was obviously good. Iwa got money, and in the process of cooperation drifted closer to Konoha economically and diplomatically. Win-win.
For the last few days, people had been grumbling to Yorin that he was being too nice to Iwagakure.
"Civil engineering? It's not like only Iwa can do it. We in Kumo, Kiri, Suna can all swing hammers too, you know."
Granted, Yorin had also signed huge deals with the other villages in renewables, shipping, and petrochemicals. Everyone got a piece of the pie. But when has anyone ever complained about having too much money?
Given that, Yorin couldn't see why Ōnoki seemed so apathetic.
By all logic, with his experience, Ōnoki's strategic vision shouldn't be inferior to the other Kage. So why was he so uninterested?
Was he still thinking of opposing Konoha?
Impossible, right?
After all this, he should realize further fighting offers Iwa nothing.
And from the way he carried himself, Yorin could tell the old man's attitude toward Konoha—and toward himself—had already shifted positive. Ōnoki clearly wanted friendship over enmity.
But just "warm feelings" and "we got punched into submission" weren't enough reassurance. Yorin needed economic integration to truly bind them together.
Yet this old fossil wasn't taking the bait, and it was driving Yorin crazy.
What the hell was going on?
Then Ōnoki's next line gave him a clue.
"Speaking of which, Yorin-kun… how's your relationship with Kurotsuchi progressing?"
Uchiha Yorin: "…"
Looking at Ōnoki's bushy brows and bright eyes, Yorin suddenly wanted to shout: So you've decided me and Kurotsuchi are a couple, huh?
He'd wanted a modern, rational, coldly transactional alliance model.
Unfortunately, the shinobi world's social meta wasn't far off from feudal Japan. Adopted sons-in-law, hereditary clans, political marriages—those were all still very much standard.
For most people, a blood-tie alliance is far more reassuring than some abstract "mutual interest" talk.
Ōnoki clearly thought the same way. He was trying to push Yorin and his granddaughter into a happy little political marriage.
The fact that Yorin was a harem protagonist bothered him not at all.
If your average guy tried to juggle a harem, he'd be labeled a creep and pelted with metaphorical rocks. But Uchiha Yorin wasn't average. For someone with the potential to shape an era, a large harem was practically a virtue.
The more families his relationships touched, the more forces he could bind to himself. The wider his "emotional base," the broader his political base. Conquering the world via marriage alliances might sound shameful—but if you actually pull it off, who's going to laugh at you?
Seeing Ōnoki's eager face, Yorin had to choose his words carefully. If he oversold it, Kurotsuchi would probably explode. No matter how famous her legs were, she was still a jōnin and a future Tsuchikage candidate. Pride came with the territory.
But if he flatly denied any special connection, she could just as easily blow up in a different direction: So I'm not good enough for you?
Women are trouble. Wouldn't it be nice to transmigrate into one of those old webnovels where you just flex once and the heroine instantly kneels?
Instead of having to "strategically court" anyone.
Grumbling inwardly, Yorin finally answered:
"Well, how should I put it—Kurotsuchi and I are just ordinary friends…"
He paused, then added:
"Of course I personally admire her. I think she's a very capable girl—confident, talented, and smart. That's about it. So, why do you ask?"
Ōnoki looked disappointed at the first half. So they really didn't jump each other that night, huh?
But hearing the rest, he relaxed again. Okay, so they're just being shy. They like each other but won't say it…
Now the question was how to tactfully let Yorin know that he'd already "seen through" their relationship.
Luckily for him, before he could blurt out something embarrassing, Yorin casually continued:
"So even when she snuck into my camp before our duel and tried to assassinate me, I didn't hold it against her. In fact, I respect her for it."
Ōnoki: "Ah… Oh… Wow…"
Silently, Ōnoki offered his thanks to the Sage of Six Paths for keeping his big mouth shut. If he'd spoken first and gotten called out like that, he probably would have died on the spot from shame.
So there really wasn't anything special between them.
She hadn't gone to rendezvous in secret—she'd gone to kill him.
What a hopeless girl.
…
Seeing that Ōnoki looked a bit off, Yorin worried the old man might keel over on the spot. He quickly called the doctor, then took his leave.
If Ōnoki died in front of him, that'd be very awkward.
Fortunately, that particular disaster didn't happen.
A few days later, at the ceremony to sign the ceasefire with the four-village alliance, Ōnoki walked in wearing full Tsuchikage regalia, solemn and dignified—and put his name on the document.
He signed the terms of defeat, the ten-year truce, and a complete package of cooperation agreements.
Only after watching his pen touch down and lift again did Uchiha Yorin finally exhale. He stepped forward as well and signed his own name on behalf of the coalition.
Flashbulbs exploded all around them as reporters frantically pressed their shutters to capture this historic moment.
Most of them were human. A few, however, were Uchiha clan ninja cats.
Those poor cats carried heavy burdens. Their boss had told them clearly: if they failed to bring back good shots, their canned food allowance was getting cut.
Under that pressure, the ninja cats worked like their lives depended on it, managing to snap a batch of very German-looking historic photos and secure their iron rice bowls.
After Ōnoki and Yorin signed, the other key figures stepped up one by one to add their names.
Fourth Raikage A, Mizukage Mei, Kazekage Rasa, and of course our dear friend Namikaze Minato.
When the Kage were done, the turn came for the other heavyweights: Sarutobi Hiruzen, Granny Chiyo, and several leaders of smaller hidden villages all signed in succession, lending even more legitimacy to the pact.
Finally, the ones who shuffled forward with sour faces were the five great nations' diplomats.
They bore their daimyo's will on their shoulders—and every one of them looked like they'd just swallowed a live frog.
Because they'd miscalculated. Their daimyo had miscalculated.
The daimyo never wanted Konoha to unify the ninja world by force—but they also never wanted Konoha to conquer it by diplomacy.
If anything, this was even worse.
A conquest by war breeds hatred that splits the world again. A conquest by negotiation does not.
What the daimyo truly wanted was a world where the five great villages balanced each other perfectly, forever suspicious, forever locked in endless conflict.
Only then could they use non-military tools to keep the ninja in check.
Only then could they relax, secure in the knowledge that their thrones would never be toppled by those frightening, chakra-wielding elites.
It had been a solid plan. They'd played their part well.
But now, the board had changed. And the reason was simple: Uchiha Yorin.
…
"When we get back, we'll have to report this to the daimyo properly."
"We can't let the ninja do whatever they want. We must break this trend toward unity."
"We have to find a way to block Uchiha, to stop him from running wild."
The diplomats exchanged glances and saw the same wary hostility in each other's eyes.
Without needing to spell it out, they'd already formed an understanding.
Only then did they step forward and sign their names, officially acknowledging the outcome of this ninja war on their daimyo's behalf.
"Excellent. Truly excellent. Everyone, I propose we raise a glass to celebrate the coming of peace."
Uchiha Yorin's voice rang out clearly.
As he spoke, servers moved among the crowd, handing out wine glasses.
Not shallow saucers, but modern, elegant stemware.
People—some joyful, some clearly reluctant—lifted their glasses and drank. Watching that scene, harmonious yet faintly surreal, both shinobi and daimyo envoys found the same thought forming in their minds:
An era has ended.