The garden was silent.
Arashi's words left every member of the Twelve Guardian Ninja frozen in place.
Their proud beliefs were utterly shattered.
Asuma lowered his head, his gaze fixed on his slightly trembling hands.
These hands had been stained with blood, and had also protected the Will of Fire.
But now, he felt only unprecedented emptiness and confusion.
Enmaru's mind was blank. His usual schemes seemed pale and laughable before the grand blueprint described by the Daimyo.
In that frozen silence…
Thud.
A soft sound.
Dull, yet clear.
Everyone looked toward the sound.
It was Chiriku, the monk from the Fire Temple.
He gently placed his tin staff, the symbol of his monastic status, on the ground beside his feet.
His movements were slow and solemn, almost ritualistic.
Everyone's attention was drawn to him.
On Chiriku, the gentle Buddhist air slowly dissipated.
He stood up.
Calmly, he removed his monk's hat, the lamplight reflecting faintly off his head.
Then he unfastened the loose monk's robe, the symbol of Buddhist precepts.
The robe slid from his shoulders, revealing a black, close-fitting combat suit.
Beneath it, defined muscles brimming with power.
It was as if he had transformed from a chanting monk into a warrior.
Everyone was too stunned by Chiriku's sudden action to speak.
Arashi leaned back in the main seat, quietly watching the esteemed monk, curious what he would do next.
Stripped of his monk's robe, Chiriku seemed to have cast off shackles.
He stepped forward, walking to the center of the garden, facing the young monarch directly.
The next second…
This highly respected monk of the Fire Temple bent his knees and knelt heavily before Arashi, the impact sounding dully.
"Daimyo-sama."
Chiriku spoke, his voice no longer gentle and mellow.
"Please tell me."
He no longer referred to himself as this humble monk.
"How can we create the new order you described, where everyone can live in peace and everyone has dignity?"
"I, Chiriku, am willing to become the blade in your hand, to cut down all obstacles."
Chiriku's vow left the other Guardian Ninja dumbfounded.
Enmaru and Hizashi even held their breath.
They understood.
They understood why Chiriku had laid down his staff and shed his monk's robe.
Because the world described by the Daimyo could never be achieved through chanting and blessings.
To end this era of shinobi warfare, the price would inevitably be blood and fire.
To establish an order where civilians could live in peace, the first step was to use the most extreme violence to bury this decaying old world.
This was an Asura path, one destined to stain one's hands with blood.
Chiriku was a Buddhist. He was more compassionate than anyone present.
But precisely because of that compassion, he was the first to step forward.
Because he had awakened.
Chanting and reciting sutras could not save this world.
To establish a Buddhist kingdom on earth, one must first become an incarnation of Asura wielding a sword, sweeping away all karmic obstructions.
To build a Buddhist kingdom on earth, he was willing to enter hell.
Realizing this, Hizashi began to tremble violently.
He thought of the Hyūga clan's Caged Bird, destined for eternal suffering.
He thought of his branch family kin, branded by the main family and enslaved until death.
Wasn't the new order spoken of by the Daimyo the dawn that could break his fate, and the fate of the entire branch family?
He no longer hesitated.
Hizashi suddenly stood up, strode to Chiriku's side, mirrored his posture, and knelt resolutely.
"Daimyo-sama, I, Hyūga Hizashi, am willing to die for you."
One.
Two.
The remaining Guardian Ninja, whether truly inspired, swept up by the moment, or having weighed the pros and cons in an instant,
all rose, walked to the center of the garden, and knelt before the young monarch.
"Please, Daimyo-sama, show us the path forward."
For a moment, they, the backbone of Konoha, all knelt.
The scene was solemn, like a pilgrimage.
Arashi watched calmly.
His gaze swept over each person, deep enough to see through their thoughts.
Enmaru and the Uchiha's opportunism.
Asuma's struggle.
And Chiriku's near-martyr resolve.
Enough.
A single spark was enough to start a prairie fire.
Arashi rose from the main seat.
He did not give orders from above. He walked to the crowd.
He went straight to Chiriku, extended his hands, and personally helped the monk who was willing to become an Asura to his feet.
Arashi said softly, "Chiriku, I accept your resolve."
He looked at Chiriku, then at the others. "You want to know how to do it?"
"The method is very simple."
"The reason this land is plagued by endless wars, in the end, comes down to one thing."
He paused. The words that followed carried no warmth.
"Because there are too many names on this land."
"Konoha, Sunagakure, Iwagakure, Kumogakure, Kirigakure…"
"Land of Fire, Land of Wind, Land of Earth…"
"As long as these villages and national borders continue to exist, war will never end."
"The First Hokage, Senju Hashirama, tried once, but you have all seen the result."
"So, to achieve permanent peace, there is only one way."
Arashi's voice rose, carrying absolute will.
"That is to shatter all the villages."
"To flatten all borders."
"To use the strongest power to end this thousand-year conflict."
"To ensure that from now on, only one voice remains on this land."
His words echoed in their ears.
"Only when all the people of this land truly become one family will peace endure."
Arashi's tone shifted, and the overwhelming aura slowly receded.
"But conquest is only the beginning."
"A world held together by violence alone is fragile."
His words calmed the shinobi who had just been burning with passion.
The fanaticism and confusion in their eyes quickly faded, replaced by inquiry.
Arashi continued, "The future I wish to see is one where children from the Land of Wind study with children from the Land of Fire in the same classroom."
"It is a world where artisans from Iwagakure forge the sharpest fishing knives for fishermen from Kirigakure."
"When languages are no longer barriers, when a common culture becomes a shared bloodline, when everyone strives for the same better tomorrow…"
"By then, division and hatred will naturally disappear."
Everyone pondered. Only Chiriku's eyes shone.
It turned out what the Daimyo sought was not an empire ruled by an iron fist, but a truly harmonious world.
Such a world could be called a Buddhist kingdom on earth.
Violence was only a means of clearing away the trash.
Governance was the goal.
Arashi ignored their shock. His thoughts seemed to pierce the night sky, seeing a hundred years into the future.
"I know this is very difficult."
In his voice, there was a sigh facing the vastness of time.
"So difficult that even if we exhaust our entire lives, we might only lay the first cornerstone on this long road to the future."
These words silenced everyone.
Yes, how difficult it was.
It sounded like fantasy.
In the shinobi world, hatred had lasted a thousand years.
The blood debts between villages were beyond counting.
To make the descendants of enemies sit together like brothers?
How could that be possible?
Arashi saw their wavering.
"But as long as the journey begins, there will always be a day when the destination is reached."
He looked at his first followers, his voice steady.
"If we cannot do it, then let our descendants do it."
Hizashi suddenly looked up.
Descendants… In his mind, his young son, Neji, appeared.
That child, when a little older, would be branded with the Caged Bird.
Would Neji's descendants also have to suffer this fate forever?
No.
If this new order could truly be established, if the borders between nations and villages truly vanished, then what meaning would the Hyūga clan's so-called main and branch families still have?
The Caged Bird would no longer exist.
Hizashi's breathing quickened, his fists clenched tight.
Arashi's words continued.
"If our descendants cannot do it, then their descendants will."
He paused, letting the words carve themselves into their souls.
"Generation after generation, without end."
This ancient vow, spoken now, was no longer a metaphor.
It was a sacred pledge handed down through blood.
Asuma's body trembled.
He thought of his father.
He had spent his life maintaining Konoha and protecting the so-called Will of Fire.
But what was the result?
The war had never ended.
Perhaps… Father was wrong from the beginning.
Perhaps, protecting only Konoha was too narrow.
Only when the whole world became one family would there be nothing left to protect.
Because there would be no external enemy.
Arashi's voice rose again.
"As long as we, and the generations after us, keep moving toward this goal and never look back…"
"Then everything we envision today will eventually become reality."
Boom.
Thunder seemed to explode in their minds.
They felt their souls being reshaped.
Their Daimyo had not only pointed to the enemies they needed to cut down, he had shown them the homeland they could build with their own hands when the fighting stopped.
The future was no longer vague.
It was a future that, if they reached for it and worked, generation after generation, they would finally touch.
Hope.
It burned fiercely in their hearts.
Watching their transformation, a faint smile finally appeared on Arashi's face.
In that smile, there was no monarch's majesty, no schemer's calculation.
Only a pioneer's expectation for his followers.
"And you, along with me, will become the..."
"Pioneers."
"...of this new world."
(To be continued.)