Compared to Konoha, Kumogakure moved far faster when it came to choosing leadership.
Their style was practically straight out of a mafia playbook.
After the coup in which the Gold and Silver Brothers were wiped out, the Third Raikage, A, naturally inherited the title from his father, the Second Raikage.
The succession had been rushed—and it left behind a mountain of messes for the Third Raikage to clean up.
Right now, the most urgent issue was simple:
How to extinguish Konoha's rage.
A stared at the corpse of Senju Tobirama laid out before him, his head aching.
If this wasn't handled properly, Kumogakure itself might face extinction.
This was bad. Very bad.
They had agreed to negotiations.
Agreed to stop fighting.
Agreed to rest for a few years, then settle things properly.
And then Kumogakure failed to control Gold and Silver.
A coup erupted—and the visiting Second Hokage was killed.
Sure, Kumogakure had lost its own Second Raikage as well.
But Konoha wouldn't care.
Whether your Raikage lived or died was none of Konoha's business.
You agreed to negotiate peace—and then ambushed their Hokage?
Did Kumogakure have any respect for the First Shinobi Village?
Putting himself in Konoha's position, A knew exactly how this looked.
If he were them, he'd fight until nothing was left.
At this point, all he could do was pray that Konoha restrained itself—didn't go completely mad and drag both villages into mutual destruction.
Otherwise, A would have no choice but to lead Kumogakure into a war to the bitter end.
A few days later, Kumogakure's envoys arrived in Konoha.
Their purpose was to renegotiate a peace treaty—and to discuss returning the body of the Second Hokage, Senju Tobirama.
Since Kumogakure was clearly at fault, they were willing to make concessions beyond the original agreement.
Konoha immediately convened an emergency meeting.
With Tobirama's body about to be returned, Uzumaki Mito could no longer delay matters. Reality had to be faced.
The assembly was explosive.
The Senju jōnin were simple and direct in their demands:
Fight to the end.
Their clan head—and Hokage—had been murdered by an enemy village. If Konoha didn't even make a sound, they might as well disband and go their separate ways.
Konoha must take revenge!
Blood must be repaid with blood!
Such voices echoed endlessly, dominating the hall.
But reality was cruel.
War is a matter of national survival—life and death—not to be entered lightly.
Konoha simply could not launch another proper campaign.
There was no money.
None.
War burned cash—and burned it fast.
Who was going to pay?
Surely not those Fire Country nobles.
But of course, that couldn't be said out loud.
Political correctness mattered.
Avenging the Hokage—that was the proper banner.
Even Uchiha Nan, seated below, was applauding inwardly. Outwardly, he wore a face of righteous fury, as if ready to charge onto the battlefield and fight Kumogakure to the death on the spot.
Slogans had to be shouted loudly.
But when it came to actually sending troops and gambling everything—
Every clan head present had to weigh how long their businesses could hold out.
Selling ancestral property to Fire Country bankers?
Those bastards were sharks.
If you dared to sell, they dared to offer a price so low even they felt guilty.
And if you didn't sell?
The price would be even lower next time.
Uzumaki Mito watched the shouting shinobi below.
Meanwhile, the clan heads sat in silence, faces heavy with grief.
Their stance was already obvious.
Revenge was possible—
Just not now.
Konoha was nearly out of oil. If they fought again, everyone would go under.
And it wouldn't just be Kumogakure.
Iwagakure.
Kirigakure.
It could easily become one-versus-three.
In the end, Uzumaki Mito gathered the clan heads into a small room for the final decision.
After lengthy discussion, one conclusion was reached:
They couldn't fight—but they had to act like they would.
Konoha could not appear weak.
If even the Hokage's death drew no response, how could Konoha continue leading its smaller allies—villages like Kusagakure?
Uchiha Nan, of course, had no objections.
After all, it wasn't an Uchiha who had died.
It was Senju Tobirama.
Mito personally delivered a war mobilization speech to Konoha's shinobi, vowing to seek justice and repay blood with blood.
But in secret, each clan head issued quiet orders to their shinobi stationed near the Land of Lightning:
Exercise restraint.
Do not initiate combat.
If Kumogakure attacked again—
Then there would be nothing left to discuss.
Mutual destruction it was.
"This time, if Kumogakure fails to provide a satisfactory answer," Konoha declared officially,
"we will fight them until only one side remains."
The harshest diplomatic statement possible was issued.
Even the Kumogakure envoys felt that this trip to Konoha might become a one-way journey.
Yet with duty on their shoulders, they still sat down at the negotiating table.
On top of the original peace terms, Kumogakure agreed to pay four billion ryō in additional reparations.
One billion in the first year.
The remaining sum spread over five years.
Kumogakure was destitute—but being at fault, they made major concessions.
They truly had no more money.
People were already starving.
Grain merchants had driven food prices to absurd heights—three times their peacetime value.
The Raikage dealt with such profiteers using his fists, beating several black-hearted merchants to death.
It accomplished nothing.
Triple profits were enough to drive people to madness.
And those grain merchants all had backers.
War profiteering wasn't limited to one country. Food prices everywhere had skyrocketed.
Look next door at Sunagakure—grain prices there had jumped five or six times, and no one said a word.
Why should Kumogakure be special?
Eventually, someone warned the Raikage to stop killing merchants.
Konoha, seeing Kumogakure lower its head, pressed further.
Threaten.
Demand outrageously.
Argue back and forth.
Exchange harsh words.
Flirt with mutual annihilation.
Then return to reality.
Konoha demanded an additional five hundred million ryō.
The Third Raikage clenched his teeth—and accepted.
Money was just an external possession.
Ten people starving to death was a statistic.
Ten thousand was also a statistic.
Reality was simply that cruel.
Let the villagers suffer. I'll bear the infamy.
The final topic was the return of Senju Tobirama's body.
This was a major event for Konoha.
A village funeral.
Grand.
Lavish.
Every clan head would attend personally.
Fire Country nobles would all be notified—attendance mandatory.
Konoha intended to collect "funeral contributions" from the nobles.
Using the Hokage's funeral to raise funds was a bit shameless.
But earning money was nothing to be ashamed of.
The treasury was empty. Years of deficit had drained Konoha dry.
If Tobirama's spirit still watched from above, surely he would approve.
Serving Konoha in life.
Serving Konoha in death.
That—
Was the true Will of Fire:
to give everything, until nothing remains.
Dear readers—would you mind slapping me in the face with monthly tickets?
Advance Chapters available on Patreon
patreon.com/NightScript