Just like that… and then that… and then that.
After everyone "mentally filled in a million words," Yōrin ended up delaying his trip out to sea to hunt the turtle a little. Luckily, the turtle himself was a "proper turtle"—he didn't actually make things difficult. He'd shifted a few dozen kilometers away from the prime observation point, but he still hadn't reached the ocean yet.
Which made things easy.
Yōrin casually used Flying Thunder God again, appearing right in front of the turtle, and said, "So—are you going to cooperate, or do I have to do this the hard way?"
The turtle felt like Yōrin was bullying turtles.
Fine, you're going to seal me—whatever. But you're even making me volunteer for the sealing? You really don't treat tailed beasts like they matter at all, do you?!
Enraged, the turtle attacked Yōrin.
Tailed Beast Bomb.
A bigger Tailed Beast Bomb.
A full-power, desperate Tailed Beast Bomb.
All useless.
The turtle was stunned.
What kind of monster could tank a Tailed Beast Bomb and not even flinch?!
It stared up at Yōrin floating in midair, wanting to say something, but couldn't get the words out—until it heard Yōrin say, "That kind of move… I can do it too."
Tailed beasts were intelligent—no less than humans. The turtle had once "exchanged moves" with Jiraiya, so the Rasengan left a deep impression.
So when Yōrin said that, the turtle immediately thought of some ridiculous, oversized Rasengan.
That technique is scary. This guy's version has to be even stronger than that greasy middle-aged man's. I'd better be careful.
It steeled itself—and prepared to fire another Tailed Beast Bomb to blow everything up.
Then it saw it.
Behind Yōrin, a pitch-black sphere formed—dense, ominous, absolute.
That wasn't a Rasengan.
That was a Truth-Seeking Orb.
"Tch—! "
The instant it recognized it, the turtle remembered the terror of the Ōtsutsuki and the humiliation of being toyed with by the Sage of Six Paths. Its anger and fighting spirit evaporated on the spot, replaced by pure fear and submission.
"Master!"
Yōrin looked down at the turtle prostrating itself before him with mild amusement. "Oh? To live, you'll even say 'Master,' huh?"
"Then be smart. Seal yourself. Don't make me waste effort."
…
Against ordinary enemies, even death wouldn't make a tailed beast this humble.
Tailed beasts could naturally revive anyway—die now, come back years later, still a proud beast.
But Truth-Seeking Orbs were different.
Those could truly erase them.
The turtle was terrified. Being sealed was humiliating, sure—but it beat being annihilated.
So the turtle swallowed its pride and sealed itself into the scroll.
And just like that—all nine tailed beasts were gathered.
The prerequisite for reviving Kaguya was complete.
Next step: use Rinne Rebirth to revive Uchiha Madara… then beat him senseless.
Yōrin checked his status.
He was already slightly beyond "Six Paths-tier." He could crush base Madara easily. Even "Six Paths Madara" with the Ten-Tails… Yōrin was confident he could keep the upper hand.
His "Primordial Titan" had evolved into a mythic giant.
His Susanoo: Takemikazuchi had reached full completion.
His stats were solidly Six Paths-level, and his Truth-Seeking Orb control was second nature.
He honestly couldn't imagine losing.
…
So the plan was decided.
But before that, Yōrin wanted one more layer of insurance.
Black Zetsu kept pushing, but Yōrin insisted: he would finish dismantling the Five Great Nations first, then perform the ritual to revive Kaguya.
By then, he'd be even stronger.
Black Zetsu: "Wait—what?!"
Zetsu completely broke. Yōrin was already invincible; if he kept growing, even the tiny sliver of "bargaining power" Kaguya might have would disappear.
Zetsu's original hope was: Even if Yōrin is stronger, he still "needs" Mother, so they can form an alliance. Mother can be his honored queen, and at least it won't be humiliating.
But if Yōrin became overwhelmingly dominant…
Then Kaguya might end up as just another "ordinary" member in Yōrin's… collection.
And Zetsu would feel like the biggest loser alive.
But in this situation, Zetsu couldn't do anything—he really was like the powerless child in some melodrama. The frustration hit so hard he didn't even want to speak to Yōrin for a while.
…
Because Yōrin captured the turtle so quickly—and because the plan to revive Kaguya was shared with almost no one—hardly anyone realized what it truly meant.
No one understood that an ancient calamity that once nearly ended the world was about to awaken.
People simply… kept living their lives.
Days passed.
The Shinobi Republic's strength steadily grew, while the Five Great Nations weakened under its "economic siphon" effect.
The timetable for "erasing the Five Great Nations and unifying the shinobi world" moved forward.
Then—on an afternoon no one expected—the Shinobi Republic declared war on the Land of Water.
The justification didn't matter; you could grab a dozen reasons off the shelf.
And the campaign unfolded exactly as everyone expected: short, brutal, decisive.
Years ago, even before the Republic existed, they'd been able to press Land of Water into the ground. Now, with the Republic fully built, it was even easier.
The outcome wasn't surprising—but the process stunned people.
Because this war featured a flood of new weapons.
The Republic's forces weren't even being called "shinobi armies" anymore—they were the Republic's national military. Alongside traditional shinobi units, they fielded experimental formations:
Every soldier in these formations wore the latest chakra armor and carried a full suite of scientific ninja tools.
Each one fought at roughly the level of an old-era jōnin.
Even squad leaders matched elite jōnin.
More frightening still: it looked like the Republic could mass-produce units that approached "Kage-class" combat performance.
Dozens of "Kage-class" officers—people nobody had heard of a few years earlier—appeared within that experimental force.
They were the first generation of elite talent trained after the Republic's founding: not just ninjutsu, taijutsu, and genjutsu, but also strategy, diplomacy, and technological application.
They were less "traditional shinobi" and more like commissioned officers—professional commanders.
And that shift was reflected in social status too.
In the old era, shinobi were treated like bad omens—walking disasters. Outside the hidden villages, they were rarely welcomed.
Especially in Land of Water.
Now? Republic shinobi were national elites—respected, admired, and central to society. Elite jōnin and "Kage-class" professionals were the state's backbone.
And beyond the military, shinobi dominated research and administration as well.
The Republic's technology path demanded it. Scientific ninja tools, the fusion of chakra and engineering—the reality was simple:
In this world, the best scientists had to be shinobi, because they needed chakra control to participate at all.
Even administrative officials were often genjutsu specialists—people with highly trained brains, exceptional memory, and computation.
Pair that with computers, networked electronic paperwork, and a professional civil-service curriculum, and the Republic's governance capacity skyrocketed.
That was the real reason Yōrin dared to begin the next phase: he no longer feared the "postwar governance problem."
…
In other words: the Republic had become a true "nation of shinobi."
And alongside it, long-term plans were advancing steadily—universal chakra education, widespread chakra practice, and eventually large-scale body modification programs (including a regulated, revised version of the Chimera Technique).
Those would likely roll out in the Republic's second five-year plan.
This Republic had grown far beyond what anyone expected.
The Land of Water was simply the first to fall.
Over the last few years, the Five Great Nations had tried desperately to modernize—building stronger standing armies, pushing advanced equipment, even trying to cultivate "state-controlled shinobi forces."
Under extinction-level pressure, they worked hard.
If they'd had this urgency twenty years ago, maybe they could've pulled it off.
But this was Republic Year Four, not "Konoha Year Thirty-Four."
All their scrambling failed.
Land of Water was the first example: the "new army" they'd struggled to build collapsed before it even understood what hit it.
Next would be the strongest—the Land of Fire.
Then the other three.
And of course, the smaller nations wouldn't be spared either.
The unification of the shinobi world was now within reach.