Chapter 43 — Forcing the Enemy With Moves Outside the Battlefield
"Finally… finally, we've made it!"
After struggling through the Land of the Moon and then slogging across the Land of Hot Water, Dodai stood at the edge of the battlefield with burning determination. Ever since listening to Mabui's analysis in the Raikage's office, he had immediately requested to lead the vanguard of Kumogakure's invasion force.
He had one goal: to prove that even if Mabui's theory was correct, shinobi were still the true rulers of this world.
Oda Nobunaga might have stirred the daimyo and commoners into fear, resentment, and resistance against shinobi.
But shinobi were the main actors of this era.
The world—the stage—belonged to the shinobi.
The laws and order of this continent should be decided by shinobi, not civilians or daimyo.
Yet the moment Dodai took command of the vanguard and set out, he experienced something he had never felt before:
The malice of the world itself.
The Land of Lightning did not border the Land of Fields.
To reach Nobunaga's territory, they first had to cross the Lands of the Moon and Hot Water.
In past wars, these small nations were like shy maidens facing a burly brute—
they would say "No, no, you can't,"
but once the Cloud shinobi marched in, they would meekly allow themselves to be bent into eight hundred different positions.
But this time…
Dodai gritted his teeth in fury.
The daimyos of the Moon and Hot Water had not openly refused passage.
But they had instead adopted a stance of "nonviolent, non-cooperative resistance."
Because the Lightning Daimyo refused to fund the war—and Kumogakure was not as wealthy as outsiders believed—
the village had only allocated part of its emergency reserves.
The troops were expected to purchase food and supplies along the way.
After all, even shinobi need to eat.
Kunai, shuriken, explosive tags—everything wears down and must be replenished.
But every merchant in the Moon and Hot Water simply spread their hands:
"We can't conjure goods from thin air.
We have nothing in stock.
Even if you hold a blade to our necks—still nothing."
In the end, enraged Cloud shinobi stormed merchant storehouses by force.
They even raided government warehouses.
But those "storehouses" were so empty even rats would leave crying.
Only after scraping through every abandoned chest and crate
did they manage to gather a pitiful amount—barely enough to survive.
Finally, the Cloud shinobi began directly confiscating supplies from commoners,
and only then did the army's daily needs stop bleeding dry.
But now…
Dodai stood at the border between the Land of Hot Water and the Land of Fields.
Just one step forward,
and he would be inside Nobunaga's rich, fertile territory.
He believed that once they entered the Land of Fields, every obstacle would disappear.
The Land of Lightning was their own nation,
and the Moon and Hot Water—while obstructive—were not enemies, so Cloud shinobi had shown restraint.
But the Land of Fields was an enemy nation.
Once they crossed that border, no one could fault them for seizing enemy supplies.
No one could blame them for taking enemy grain.
No one could criticize them for killing enemy civilians.
"Blame your daimyo," Dodai murmured coldly.
"Blame him for daring to openly defy the unspoken rules of the shinobi world."
With one sweeping gesture, he prepared to order his wolf-like troops forward—
to strip the Land of Fields bare,
to slaughter its people,
to feed the Cloud army with the wealth of its enemies.
He grinned, a cruel smile that could stop a child's crying.
"That Oda Nobunaga…
is still far too young."
Did Oda Nobunaga really think he could fool him?
Did Nobunaga think he didn't know a huge army was waiting inside that so-called Military Fortress, ready to make a last stand?
Why should he bother charging into some fortified mountain to fight a siege battle?
Even if the so-called Sound Village was nothing more than a toy compared to Kumogakure, war between shinobi had always been brutal.
Let the blood and fire fall upon Nobunaga's people—it would make them understand just how foolish their daimyo truly was.
"Report!"
Dodai was still contemplating how he would use this war to show the world that the rules of shinobi were the only rules that mattered—that the power and prestige of Kumogakure stood above all else.
But a messenger sprinted toward him at full speed.
"Hm?"
Dodai glanced back, his gaze locking onto the military dispatch in the messenger's hands.
"The enemy daimyo, Oda Nobunaga, has sent a formal challenge!"
The courier ran up and shouted from the diaphragm like a true soldier.
He then bowed at a perfect ninety-degree angle and presented the scroll with both hands.
Dodai nodded, thoroughly satisfied.
Yes—this was the bearing of a true Cloud shinobi.
Not like the soft, simpering ninja from the other nations.
He opened the challenge scroll and skimmed through it at high speed—until his eyes froze on the final sentence.
"I have ruled for less than a year, yet the cloud-bandits march upon my land.
A daimyo guards his nation; a ruler dies for his realm.
Should I fall, shave my head, cover my face, and let them butcher me—but no harm must come to my people."
"Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. The brat Oda is a fool."
Dodai burst into laughter, shaking the scroll and showing it to the elite jonin around him.
"Does that little brat think a few flowery lines will lure us into climbing that mountain to fight him?"
'Protect the people'? 'Die for the nation'?
Even facing death he's still trying to look noble?
"Pass my order! Stick to the original plan.
We march straight into the Land of Fields and head for Azuchi Castle!"
Dodai sneered.
"I want to see if that little daimyo still dares hide up in that fortress when his capital is burning."
"Yes!"
The jonin bowed and prepared to leave to rally their units.
None of them questioned Dodai's orders nor how they were about to treat the people of the Land of Fields.
Slaughter was a shinobi's daily trade.
But just as they turned to leave—
"Report!"
Another messenger dashed up—this one far less composed than the first, sweat dripping down his forehead.
"The latest Field Times… and the broadcast transcript of Voices of the Fields!"
His voice trembled; even his stance looked guilty.
Dodai's expression sank.
He snatched the newspaper and radio transcript, still thinking idly that perhaps the Raikage should start something similar—after all, Nobunaga's papers were spreading across the continent, and his radio broadcasts were wildly popular. Supposedly, the advertising revenue alone was a river of gold.
Then he read the contents.
Even with Dodai's political experience—having served multiple Raikage—his expression finally cracked.
The Field Times included photos and eyewitness accounts—vivid, undeniable evidence of Cloud shinobi seizing food and supplies in the Moon and Hot Water countries.
Officials, merchants, peasants—all photographed in their misery.
As an outsider reading it, one would naturally feel fury toward Kumogakure's brutality…
and perhaps admiration for the photographer's skill—
the images highlighted Cloud shinobi barbarism with almost artistic precision.
Then came Voices of the Fields.
The broadcast transcript denounced Kumogakure as a menace to humanity,
a bringer of destruction,
a scourge upon every ordinary life on the continent.
And it openly called on all countries to condemn Cloud's cruelty.
"How dare that little brat do this to me?!"
Dodai slammed the papers down.
Never in his life had he been publicly humiliated like this.
He wanted nothing more than to drag Nobunaga out of that fortress and grind his bones into dust.
But anger did not blind him.
He would not fall for Nobunaga's ploy and divert the entire army toward that mountain.
"Report—!"
The third messenger arrived, stumbling, terrified, barely staying on his feet.
Dodai's forehead veins bulged.
Every jonin in the command tent held their breath.
All eyes fell onto the thin slip of paper clutched in the trembling courier's hands.