The banquet ended.
The lights in the garden remained bright.
The Shadow Guard, their worldviews reshaped, left the Daimyo Manor with a strong smell of alcohol.
The ideological imprint had been made. The rest required them to return and digest it slowly.
But Arashi could not rest yet. Today's political affairs were still unfinished.
The night wind stirred his luxurious robes.
Maids carrying lanterns led the way, light and shadow flickering across his face.
When the heavy wooden door of the study was pushed open, a scent of ink and scrolls wafted over.
The candlelight was lit, instantly illuminating the desk.
Scrolls were piled high there, so tall their tops were out of sight.
Arashi's eyelid twitched violently.
He waved his hand, dismissing all the maids.
"You may all withdraw."
"Yes."
The wooden door closed softly, leaving him alone in the study.
The next second, all strength seemed to drain from his body.
He walked to the desk, reached out, then let his hand fall limply.
Finally, he slumped into the large armchair, letting out a long sigh.
The sigh was full of resentment.
"Holy crap…" He muttered in pure national essence. "I still have to work overtime."
Arashi felt completely numb.
In his previous life, he had worked himself raw on a 996 schedule. His greatest dream was financial freedom, then to live a life of ease.
What was the result?
He closed his eyes, opened them, and transmigrated.
He had become the Daimyo of the Land of Fire.
Logically, this script should have been a straightforward, lie-down-and-win scenario.
He could have slept until he woke naturally, enjoyed the nights, occasionally crushed a few fools with a finger, and lived a boring noble life.
But he did not.
He insisted on setting himself the ultimate goal of unifying the shinobi world and laying an eternal foundation.
Now look.
The higher the goal, the later the nights.
From a 996 office worker, he had gloriously evolved into a 007 Daimyo.
He did not even have weekends off.
"If I'd known… I would have set a smaller goal, unify the Land of Fire, and then just lie flat…"
Arashi mumbled to himself, then resignedly sat up straight and casually picked up the top scroll.
Since he was already here, could he resign?
The scroll came from Konoha and bore the personal signature of Minato, the Fourth Hokage.
It was a detailed report on border force deployments.
Arashi unrolled the scroll, his gaze sweeping rapidly.
It had to be said, Minato's capability was impeccable.
He executed every directive from the Daimyo Manor to the letter.
The scroll stated: at the borders of the Lands of Wind, Earth, and Water, the defensive units originally stationed with 1,500 shinobi each had each drawn 500 personnel.
They were now gathering at full speed at Material Transfer Station No. 1, totaling 1,500.
A temporary combat formation consisting of 500 Jōnin and Chūnin was established in the village and had arrived at the target location yesterday.
Two thousand elites were in position.
The report's handwriting was clear, the data detailed, and even the unit composition, leading Jōnin, and estimated supply consumption were clearly listed.
Adding to Jiraiya's already forward troops, the military strength deployed along the northeastern border of the Land of Fire now exceeded four thousand.
Furthermore, the Land of Earth was conducting military exercises at the border of the Land of Lightning.
This power was enough to make the Land of Lightning calm down.
Arashi was very satisfied with Minato's efficiency and nodded in approval.
But as his gaze continued downward and swept to Konoha's internal defense forces, his brow furrowed.
The report stated that after drawing 500 shinobi, the current number of resident defensive shinobi within Konoha was only 800.
Eight hundred.
It seemed the Third Great Shinobi War had consumed Konoha even more terribly than he had imagined.
The greatest village in the shinobi world, after the war, had such limited mobile forces within the village.
But then, he sensed something was wrong.
Heavy losses were one thing, but a defensive force of 800 for Konoha, the heartland, seemed too small.
This meant the hinterland of the Land of Fire was nearly empty.
A thought surfaced instinctively.
If the enemy bypassed the heavily concentrated border, took a long detour, and launched a surprise attack on an undefended Konoha…
The thought made Arashi pause.
But he quickly shook his head and dismissed it.
Konoha was not yet what it would be in more than ten years.
Minato was not yet dead, Orochimaru had not defected, and Tsunade and Jiraiya had not left the village.
Leaving aside everything else, Minato alone was enough to turn any idea of a sneak attack into a joke.
His Flying Thunder God Technique was an unsolvable defense within his spatial range.
One man was an insurmountable line.
And there was that old man, Sarutobi Hiruzen.
Although the old fellow craved power, his ninjutsu cultivation had not diminished.
More than ten years later, even in his twilight years, he had managed to trade one for one, crippling Orochimaru's hands under the siege of the First, Second, and Orochimaru, revived by Edo Tensei.
Now, he would only be stronger.
Unless it was a large-scale invasion by main forces at the level of the Five Great Villages, relying on a few surprise attack units to break through Konoha was wishful thinking.
Although Kumo acted rashly, they should not do something so foolish as smashing eggs on stone.
Arashi's mind settled slightly. Perhaps he was being overly cautious.
However, prepare in advance and you succeed. Without preparation, you fail.
As a qualified leader, an extra layer of preparation was always beneficial.
Better safe than sorry.
Arashi pondered for a moment, picked up his brush, took a new scroll, and wrote a single line.
"Strengthen patrols at the borders of the four nations to prevent the Land of Lightning from detouring for a surprise attack."
After writing, he rolled the scroll and gently tapped the table.
A Shadow Guard appeared silently.
"Daimyo-sama."
"Deliver this to the Hokage."
"Yes."
The Shadow Guard took the scroll and vanished.
Only after this did Arashi feel at ease.
With his reminder, plus Minato's vigilance, Konoha's defenses should hold.
Now, it was time to deal with the real trouble.
He looked again at the pile of scrolls.
A wave of vexation rose in his chest.
He let out a long, turbid breath.
Then he plunged into the work.
Late at night.
The Daimyo Manor was brightly lit.
The helmsman of this country wrote diligently, burning his precious liver for his eternal foundation.
No one knew.
That same late night, in the distant Land of Lightning,
Raikage A stood before a twelve-man elite squad.
A murderous aura permeated the air.
"You all know the mission?" The Raikage's voice was low and oppressive.
"Yes!" The dozen elites radiated power. Their voices thundered, startling distant birds.
"Very good." The Raikage nodded in satisfaction. "Then…"
He raised his thick arm, about to give the order to depart.
Just then, a strange rhythm cut in.
"Yo, yo."
Killer B, dark-skinned, carrying seven swords and wearing sunglasses, swaggered out.
"This big shot is Killer B, headed to the Land of Fire to cause a spree, yeah."
"Take down Konoha's fools, crush those tools, oh yeah."
"Taste the Eight-Tails' might, fear in the night, idiots, bastards, out of sight."
In an instant, the murderous aura shattered like ice.
The twelve elites' shoulders shook. Their faces were rigid, neck veins bulging as they suppressed laughter.
Raikage A's temple veins throbbed and his muscles twitched.
"B!"
He roared, and the arm that was about to signal departure changed course, slamming a heavy fist onto Killer B's head. "You idiot, shut up."
Killer B staggered, clutching his head, no longer daring to rap.
The Raikage's other clenched fist, mindful of the mission's urgency, ultimately did not swing again.
He turned and bellowed to the now-solemn squad,
"Depart."
(To be continued.)
◇◇◇
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 200 Power Stones.
◇ You can read the ahead chapter on Pat if you're interested: p-atreon.c-om/Blownleaves (Just remove the hyphen to access normally.)