News of the Fourth Hokage's death spread quickly, rippling across the entire shinobi world.
The minor villages were the first to react. They whispered and gloated in secret, relieved to see mighty Konoha wounded, but none dared to make a move.
Even weakened, the Leaf was still a giant that was far too dangerous to provoke.
Even the strongest of the small villages, Amegakure, kept still. Hanzo was struggling with his own decline, and the village's strength wasn't enough to meddle in affairs this large.
The great nations, however, had no such luxury. One after another, their leaders convened in emergency councils.
Sunagakure was the first to decide; wait and see.
The choice was obvious. The village had been gutted during the Third Shinobi World War, losing most of its forces. The Kazekage was still missing, presumed dead, and the Wind Daimyō had slashed military funding after their humiliating defeat.
With Konoha reclaiming a larger share of missions, Sunagakure's finances were in ruin. On top of that, rival factions within the village were tearing each other apart over the vacant Kazekage seat.
With such chaos at home, the Sand could do little but watch though many among them secretly rejoiced, remembering the comrades cut down by Minato Namikaze.
Kirigakure, too, officially chose to wait. But unlike the Sand, the Mist began quietly mobilizing. More shinobi were dispatched to infiltrate the Land of Whirlpools, and stores of supplies were being gathered in secret.
Kumogakure was far bolder. Having taken the least damage in the last war, they had already stationed a thousand shinobi along the border, harassing and testing their neighbors.
Now, with Minato dead, the Raikage's council agreed without hesitation; Advance.
A thousand Cloud shinobi marched into the Land of Rice, moving slowly but openly, their presence impossible to ignore.
In Iwagakure, the aged Tsuchikage Ōnoki made a different choice. He refused to commit his own forces directly. Instead, he dipped into the village coffers and hired mercenaries through the black market. Their orders, disguise themselves as Konoha or Kumogakure shinobi and sow chaos.
"Make Konoha and the Cloud tear each other apart," Ōnoki commanded. "And if you can, drag the Mist, the Sand and even us, into the mix. Spread suspicion everywhere."
The old man's cynicism knew no bounds. If even a minor village was foolish enough to lash out at Konoha in this chaos, all the better.
Thus, the shinobi world, which had briefly tasted peace, slid once more into an undercurrent of suspicion and dread.
When Kumogakure's army crossed into Rice, Konoha could not ignore it.
Hiruzen Sarutobi and the other elders quickly assembled a force equal in size to the Cloud's. They pushed their troops into the Land of Rice as well, matching the enemy's numbers stride for stride. The message was clear; Konoha was wounded, but not weak.
Neither side gave any thought to the Land of Rice itself. Its daimyō had long grown used to this fate with foreign shinobi trampling his land in their wars, his people suffering, while he himself stayed untouched so long as the fighting didn't reach his manor. If it did, he would protest, not to the villages themselves, but to the daimyō of Fire and Lightning, hoping their influence might restrain the ninja leaders.
For ordinary civilians, this was chaos. For nobles, it was life as usual.
That was the bitter truth of the shinobi world.
To the people who lived beneath them, ninjas were demons of war, destroying homes, scattering families, and leaving nothing but suffering. But to the nobility, they were weapons, leashed by money and custom.
Few shinobi dared touch a noble directly. Centuries of precedent had made it taboo. Those who tried were crushed, hunted by every means—samurai, ninja, black market bounty, or the wrath of other noble clans.
A single death could unite entire courts against the perpetrator.
For a ninja, it was a death sentence.
And so, while civilians lived in fear, the noble houses enjoyed a life of ease and luxury, even safer than kings of the ancient past. Rebellion was unthinkable when Transformation Jutsu could unravel any uprising, when a single jonin could scatter an army of peasants.
It was, in short, a world where shinobi lived in hell and nobles, in paradise.
If Uchiha Gen had been born into such a family, he thought sometimes, perhaps he would have chosen the quiet life of a second-generation aristocrat. A life without battle, without struggle.
But fate had placed him elsewhere, and the world would not allow such peace.
Back in the Land of Rice, two great armies faced one another across barren fields. Neither side dared move first.
The Fourth Raikage, A, might have looked like a hotheaded brute, loud, aggressive, and quick to anger but he was no fool. He knew every other village was watching, waiting for the first spark.
If the Cloud struck recklessly, the others would swoop in to exploit the chaos.
But events had already slipped beyond the leaders' control.
Ōnoki's mercenaries went to work, disguised as Leaf and Cloud shinobi, raiding, burning, and provoking skirmishes. Each side caught whispers of infiltration, but suspicion grew all the same.
Day by day, the tension mounted, until it was no longer a question of if, but when.
At last, the Raikage made his move. Out of confidence in his village's military might, he struck first. Not with a full invasion, but with a calculated, limited war—a probing strike to test Konoha's strength.
If the Leaf faltered, the battle would expand, and the other great villages would follow. If not, the Cloud could retreat, chalking it up as training for their troops.
Either way, the Raikage believed, Kumogakure would stand to gain.
And so, the flames of war were lit once more.
The news reached Konoha swiftly.