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Chapter 60 - 60. 4-year-old Uchiha Itachi goes to the battlefield

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Inside the daimyo manor in the capital, the air was warm, filled with laughter and cheerful voices.

A small banquet was underway.

There were no high-ranking court officials present. Only Shin's trusted confidants who had followed him before he gained power.

Shin held a wine glass, watching everything with a smile.

Their faces were flushed from drinking, and they were slurring their words, boasting about their past heroics.

Everything was much like it had been in that small courtyard, gathered around a fire, plotting in secret.

Joking, scolding, unrestrained.

Yet, Shin keenly sensed that some things, after all, were different.

When his gaze swept over them, the boasting voices would instinctively quiet down.

Their smiles, besides familiarity, also held awe.

Before, they were partners sharing a common boat.

Now, he was the sovereign, and they were his subjects.

An invisible chasm lay between them.

Perhaps this was the meaning of being a lonely ruler.

To gain supreme power, one must also endure the solitude that comes with it.

This brief sentiment was quickly cast aside by Shin.

For him, it was merely a boring reflection after a meal.

His thoughts drifted far away.

He remembered the Guardian Shinobi he had assigned to the construction site.

On a whim, he had sent a group of proud shinobi elites to supervise.

He wondered if this casual move could change this group of elites.

Perhaps it could.

Perhaps it couldn't.

It didn't matter.

If it succeeded, it would be a pleasant surprise.

If it didn't, it wouldn't hinder anything.

He knew very well that trimming a few branches and leaves wouldn't change anything.

What he truly cared about was the Genius Cultivation Program.

Using this money to firmly bind the next generation of Konoha.

From the time they were blank slates, he would engrave his mark in their hearts.

He wanted to redefine the Will of Fire.

He wanted to tell them.

Future Konoha shinobi would no longer just protect the village, or some nonsensical shinobi glory or bonds.

What they would protect was the daimyo! The Land of Fire! The millions of citizens on this land!

This was the true intention behind his actions.

Thinking of this, Shin's thoughts drifted even further.

By his calculations, next year, Minato Namikaze and Uzumaki Kushina would die in the Nine-Tails' attack.

After that, the Uchiha clan would be annihilated.

He was wondering whether to change the plot.

Should he change it?

If he changed it, he could save some people, but it would inevitably cause unpredictable chain reactions.

If he didn't change it...

Shin's gaze fell on the swirling wine. His eyes were deep.

If he didn't change it, the Uchiha clan would be annihilated, and Sasuke would be forged into a blade driven by hatred, willing to do anything for revenge.

And the Nine-Tails' attack could also bring him unexpected leverage...

Uzumaki Naruto... Uchiha Sasuke...

He only needed to guide them slightly at the right time, and the two of them could become his spear and shield.

A living, beloved Fourth Hokage was far less useful than a lonely hero.

A united, powerful Uchiha clan was also far less convenient than a single, revenge-driven heir.

This was the simplest and most efficient way.

To conform to the so-called fate, and then reap the benefits.

Shin's tapping quickened.

The laughter at the banquet subsided accordingly.

He ignored it. A mocking smile played on his lips.

He was mocking fate, and also mocking his calculating self from just now.

Efficiency? Tools?

That was the mindset of a craftsman.

He was the daimyo.

The ruler of a nation.

He shouldn't be content with using existing tools.

A truly strong nation should not be built on carefully planned tragedies.

It should be built on the devotion of all its people.

Besides... following the routine was a bit too boring.

Shin looked at his reflection in the cup. His interest was rekindled.

If he forcibly twisted this fate, making it play out a different script... it seemed even more interesting.

As soon as this thought appeared, all considerations and hesitations vanished instantly.

The smile on his face became gentle again.

He raised his wine glass. His clear voice suppressed all the noise.

"Come, gentlemen!"

Everyone raised their glasses, looking at their lord.

Shin scanned the faces of those who had followed him to this day, speaking each word distinctly.

"To our... future full of infinite possibilities, cheers!"

With that, he drained the wine in his cup.

Meanwhile, at the border of the Land of Lightning, at Konoha's outpost, half a month of continuous drought was ended by a sudden downpour.

Raindrops as big as beans pelted the tents, making a crackling sound.

The cracked earth turned into mud. The air was filled with the smell of earth, and a faint scent of blood.

Unlike the joyous atmosphere in the capital, here was full of the air of death.

Jiraiya stood at the top of a watchtower. Rain streamed down his cheeks.

This legendary Sannin showed no hint of his usual debauchery at this moment.

Suddenly, a figure rushed to the base of the tower and shouted up at Jiraiya, "Jiraiya-sama! The relief troops from the village have arrived!"

The voice pierced through the rain, echoing in the silent camp.

Jiraiya's eyes instantly lit up.

He leaped down from the watchtower, landing in the mud and splashing a large amount of grime.

The arrival of the relief troops meant that some shinobi who had been hovering at death's door for nearly a year could finally go home.

The entire camp stirred.

"That's great! We can finally go back!"

"Hahaha, my wife wrote that my son can already run. I need to give him a big hug when I get back this time!"

"First thing when I get home, I'm going to eat three big bowls of Ichiraku Ramen!"

Countless shinobi threw open their tents and rushed into the rain. Their faces beamed with joy, all traces of the previous deathly atmosphere swept away.

Those shinobi whose rotation date hadn't arrived yet could only cast envious glances.

Jiraiya watched this scene. A smile also appeared on his face.

He strode towards the camp entrance, ready to greet his comrades.

When he saw the person leading the group, he couldn't help but be stunned.

"Shikaku? Choza? Inoichi? Fugaku?"

It was the current clan heads of the Ino-Shika-Cho and Uchiha clans, his old friends from the same generation!

Nara Shikaku saw Jiraiya and gave a wry smile. "This miserable weather, I almost thought I was in the Land of Rain!"

They had departed the day after the cultivation funds were disbursed.

The journey had been pleasant and sunny.

Who would have thought that they would be drenched like drowned rats just as they were about to arrive?

Akimichi Choza still had his usual honest demeanor, smiling as he waved.

Yamanaka Inoichi and Fugaku nodded towards Jiraiya.

"Why did you come yourselves?" Jiraiya walked up to them, patting the shoulders of the three heavily. "Couldn't you just send a jonin to lead such a mission?"

Uchiha Fugaku said, "Haha, I brought my son to see the world."

Jiraiya's gaze shifted downwards. Only then did he notice a small figure in Uchiha clan attire behind Fugaku, standing silently in the rain.

"Are you crazy? He's only four years old!" Jiraiya's tone instantly became serious. "This is the Kumogakure border!"

"Uchiha children don't need to grow up in a greenhouse," Uchiha Fugaku said. Then he looked down at Itachi and said, "Itachi, say hello to Jiraiya-sama."

Little Uchiha Itachi looked up at the legendary Sannin and respectfully said, "Hello, Jiraiya-sama!"

Itachi's demeanor was calm. His voice carried the soft, sweet quality unique to children.

"...Hello!"

Jiraiya replied, not asking further. This was someone else's family matter, and he couldn't interfere.

He then turned and asked, "What about you all?"

Nara Shikaku sighed. "No choice. Too many things have been happening in the village recently. The three of us came out to escape the commotion."

Jiraiya frowned slightly, sensing something was amiss, but now was not the time for a detailed discussion.

He laughed heartily and welcomed the four in.

"No matter what, it's good that you're here!"

"Tonight, I'll host a welcoming banquet for you, and a farewell for those returning to the village!"

The banquet was lively, with laughter and cheerful voices continuing late into the night.

Later that night, the banquet had long since dispersed.

Inside his tent, Jiraiya was wide awake.

The news from Konoha kept him tossing and turning.

The daimyo's methods had surpassed his understanding.

He wanted to discuss it with someone, but even Shikaku had chosen to leave the village to avoid trouble, clearly having run out of options.

He wanted to return to the village immediately to get to the bottom of things, but he had a duty to fulfill. As the supreme commander on the front lines, he absolutely could not abandon his post without authorization.

In his frustration, he unconsciously paced inside the tent, trying to clear his thoughts, but the more he thought, the more confused he became.

A sense of powerlessness gripped him.

"No, I must go to Mount Myoboku!"

He would ask the Great Toad Sage. Perhaps he could give him an answer that would show him the direction of the future.

Thinking this, Jiraiya suddenly stopped, then quickly formed hand seals.

"Summoning jutsu!"

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