"How courageous…" Raizen muttered, voice tight with disbelief that curdled into anger.
The Hyūga Clan and a dozen other families had joined forces—forming what people now called the Hyūga Alliance. Their goal? To strangle the newborn Konoha Alliance before it ever learned to walk.
Typical. Fear the unknown, then destroy it.
Raizen could already imagine the smug looks on those clan elders' faces. To them, Konoha was just a dangerous idea—a place where old hierarchies could collapse, where power wasn't tied to bloodlines.
He clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked. "Fine. If they want to test Konoha's resolve, we'll give them a demonstration they'll never forget."
If they wanted a war, he'd make it one they'd regret starting.
The South Ignites
Just as he was planning his countermeasures, another report reached him—one that turned the entire Fire Country upside down.
The Uchiha Clan had launched a sudden, large-scale assault on the Ino–Shika–Chō Alliance—the Pig–Deer–Butterfly trio. The Uchiha's intent was brutally clear: pillage resources, reclaim power, and erase the humiliation of the last sixteen years.
Raizen read the scroll in silence, then exhaled through his nose. "So it begins."
He already knew how this battle would end. The Ino–Shika–Chō coalition, honorable but small, would fall within weeks. That defeat would feed the Uchiha's recovery—rekindling their strength for the inevitable clash with the Senju Clan down the line.
And once Uchiha and Senju regained momentum, the Fire Country would drown in flames again.
It was the same pattern every time. Victory was just a polite word for someone else's funeral.
The West Falls
Three days later, a second front erupted. The Senju Clan, hired by one of the Fire Daimyō's retainers, stormed Mizushiro Valley in the western territories.
The Mizushiro family were a rare breed—part merchants, part shinobi—known for their eerie technique that manipulated the water inside an enemy's body. For years, their wealth and secrecy made them untouchable.
But when Senju came, no amount of silver or tricks could stop them.
The clan's walls fell in a single moonlit night.
Raizen didn't even need to see it; he could already hear the clash of mokuton and steel echoing across the forests. The Senju would emerge rich and rearmed, fueled by stolen supplies and the blood of their rivals.
The great clans were rising again—one battle at a time.
A Country in Chaos
By March, the entire Land of Fire had turned into a battlefield map painted red.
South: Uchiha vs. Ino–Shika–Chō
West: Senju vs. Mizushiro
East: Kurama vs. Yuezhi
North: Hashimoto vs. Tōkyū, fighting over the remains of the fallen Yuyi Clan
Four fronts. One month. Tens of thousands dead.
The era's historians would later call it the Month of Madness.
Only the central region of the Fire Country remained untouched—for now. But every general, every spy, every frightened farmer whispered the same prediction:
"When the storm reaches the middle, the final battlefield will be Konoha."
Raizen stood over the war table, tracing the map with his finger. If the Hyūga Alliance launched from the east, and the Senju–Uchiha conflict spread northward, the central plain would become a killing field for nearly forty clans.
Sixty thousand shinobi. Maybe more.
He closed his eyes briefly, feeling the headache build behind them. "Congratulations, Fire Country. You've outdone yourself this time."
Fire Without End
The Daimyō, in a desperate attempt to keep his throne intact, issued twenty-three decrees begging the clans to cease hostilities. None were obeyed.
Raizen wasn't surprised. Once ninja tasted blood and profit, words from palaces didn't matter.
By April, the refugee count flooding into the Konoha Alliance territory had exceeded ten thousand. Villages were burning faster than anyone could rebuild. Bandits roamed unchecked, looting whatever the wars hadn't already claimed.
Every new arrival brought both mouths to feed and hands to fight.
Raizen knew what it meant—the world was collapsing toward Konoha like a whirlpool.
The Gathering Storm
A month passed. The Hyūga Alliance had been training, mobilizing, and—most concerning of all—testing Konoha's borders. A few skirmishes, some scouts gone missing, a couple of wounded patrols. The usual preludes to something worse.
Raizen didn't waste time with denial. He issued an official mobilization order.
Within hours, every major family under Konoha's banner began gathering their forces. Weapons were repaired, chakra reserves filled, medical supplies stocked.
Everyone knew this next war wasn't about honor or land—it was about survival.
"If we lose," Raizen said during the council, "we vanish. If we win, we carve our name into history. Choose your side carefully."
The silence that followed wasn't fear. It was resolve.
Outside, the wind carried the smell of burning fields.
Inside, Amamiya Raizen's eyes gleamed like a blade catching firelight.
"Then let the world come. We'll show them what kind of monsters it takes to dream of peace."
...
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