Although Ōnoki had already resolved to reclaim his true self, when he thought back carefully, the last time he felt this kind of suffocating pressure—this crushing oppression—was long ago, when he and the Second Tsuchikage had tried to form an alliance with Konoha, seeking to secure a peace treaty.
But at that time, Uchiha Madara would never agree to such a thing.
In Madara's eyes, all shinobi villages should unconditionally submit to Konoha.
Because in his belief, the strong had no need to negotiate with the weak.
If not for Senju Hashirama's presence, the entire shinobi world might have been thrown into chaos and destruction by Madara's hand.
Back then, Ōnoki both feared the overwhelming might Madara possessed, and at the same time, felt relieved that the Hokage of Konoha was Hashirama rather than Madara.
But no matter how one looked at it, when he stood before Uchiha Madara, when he heard those words from Madara's mouth, when even the Second Tsuchikage had no choice but to swallow his pride and remain silent—
Ōnoki felt nothing but suffocating pressure.
And despair.
A despair deeper than anything he had ever known, pressing down on his chest and refusing to leave.
Just as Ōnoki found himself lost in that memory, the doors of the council chamber were slowly pushed open.
The eyes of everyone present turned toward the entrance—Ōnoki's aides, Kurotsuchi and Akatsuchi, Darui seated nearby, and behind him Omoi and Karui.
But the first figure to step into view wasn't Senju Haruto.
It was the elite jōnin temporarily acting as Hokage in his stead—
Hatake Kakashi.
"Apologies for keeping you waiting."
Kakashi's voice carried no emotion. His words were nothing more than a polite formality.
After all, the truth of the situation was clear to everyone here. The question of who held the advantage, who truly controlled the field—it was plain as day.
Even if the Tsuchikage and Raikage were left waiting not just a moment, but for days, what could they do about it?
And as expected, Ōnoki and Darui didn't react at all to Kakashi's words.
Their focus wasn't on the delay, nor on Kakashi himself.
It was on the true master of this meeting.
"I'm late," came a casual voice.
Senju Haruto strolled into the council chamber with an easy, unhurried demeanor. He looked less like a man arriving at a formal summit of Kage, and more like someone casually joining a conversation.
"Now then, all we're missing is the leader of the samurai from the Land of Iron," Ōnoki said in his gravelly voice.
In his impression, although the Land of Iron wasn't counted among the Five Great Nations, with its barren soil and meager resources, its neutral stance had always been recognized. The samurai never involved themselves in shinobi wars.
Because of this, during the great Kage Summit, the samurai leader Mifune would attend as a neutral arbiter.
And even now, when there were only three Kage left, Ōnoki naturally assumed the same.
"The leader of the samurai? He doesn't deserve to sit at this table," Haruto said bluntly.
The truth was, the Land of Iron's "neutrality" had never been about the strength of its samurai.
In a world like this—how strong could mere samurai possibly be?
The only reason the Land of Iron maintained neutrality was geography.
Wedged between nations, its land barren, its people few, its climate harsh, and its coffers empty—what great shinobi nation would bother spilling blood to conquer such a place?
Letting it stand as a buffer zone between warring nations—was that not convenient for everyone?
But the world was no longer the same.
With every country but the Land of Earth and the Land of Lightning already subdued by Haruto, the Land of Iron was isolated.
Before this summit even began, Haruto had dispatched the Anbu to strike the Land of Iron.
With no shinobi allies, the samurai fell quickly.
A handful had skills comparable to jōnin, but the majority were weak. And with the Sharingan Corps deployed alongside the main force, the result was a complete rout.
Now, at this very moment, the Land of Iron had already bent the knee to the Land of Fire.
Kakashi stepped forward, pulled out the largest chair at the council table, and gestured for Haruto to sit.
Haruto, however, wasn't in the mood for formalities.
He cast only a light glance at Ōnoki and Darui, then went straight to the point.
"I believe the two of you have already guessed the truth of the matter."
"And I've never been one for subtle words, so I'll be plain."
"The unification of the shinobi world is inevitable. It is the tide of history, the great river whose current no one can resist."
"It isn't something any single person, village, or nation can stand against."
"So I suggest you both show some sense."
"Do away with your daimyō. Hand over your lands to me."
"From this day forward, there will be only one great nation in this world—the Land of Fire."
"And only one Kage—me, the Hokage, Senju Haruto."
Haruto's words fell into the room like iron. His voice wasn't raised, but every syllable landed heavy, ringing clear in the ears of Ōnoki and Darui.
Darui's eyes widened.
He had already suspected this was Haruto's aim, but hearing him declare it so openly still sent a shock through his chest.
After all, even the so-called God of Shinobi, Senju Hashirama, had never achieved this.
From another's perspective, Haruto truly carried an aura of a man set to carve a new age—greater even than the legacies of those before him.
"I—"
Darui began, but before he could finish, the aged Third Tsuchikage, Ōnoki, slowly rose to his feet.
His palm slammed heavily against the table.
His gaze sharpened like a blade, his eyes burning with defiance.
"You think I'll agree to this?"
Ōnoki's voice wasn't loud, but it rang with pride and conviction.
Perhaps the Land of Earth was weaker now than in its prime.
Perhaps Haruto's strength was indeed terrifying.
But he was still the Third Tsuchikage.
How could he possibly surrender his nation, his people, everything they were—just because of a single demand?
Abolish the daimyō?
Hand everything over?
What a joke.
Behind him, Kurotsuchi and Akatsuchi tensed, eyes locked on Haruto, ready to back their Tsuchikage at a moment's notice.
Darui, meanwhile, hadn't expected Ōnoki to stand up so firmly, and found himself caught, uncertain of which path to take.
"Young Raikage," Ōnoki said, still staring down Haruto, but his words aimed at Darui. "Will you really hand over everything you've sworn to protect, just because of the Hokage's command?"
"We became Kage not for privilege, nor for the comfort of power."
"Our purpose has always been to guide those who come after us—to light the path forward."
"Perhaps our strength cannot match the Hokage's."
"But that is no reason to bow."
He paused, then the corner of his mouth lifted in the faintest of smirks.
As he looked at Haruto, he couldn't help but recall Uchiha Madara's face—his cold, imperious words, his lofty disdain.
How detestable.
But this time, Ōnoki would not cower.
He would not despair.
Because he was—
The Tsuchikage.
..
If you'd like me to translate any other fanfics, feel free to suggest them! I'm always open to hearing what stories you'd enjoy reading next.