The atmosphere inside the Mizukage's office was the dead silence following a catastrophic storm, suffocatingly oppressive and thick with the scent of unspent ozone. The violent killing intent surrounding the Third Mizukage had not completely dissipated; it simmered like a volcano on the verge of eruption. However, deep within his scarlet eyes, there was an undeniable trace of coldness, a logical struggle forcibly injected by the reality of their situation.
Elder Genshi's aged and steady voice echoed in the ears of the high-ranking officials like a warning bell, repeatedly drowning out the pure, irrational rage of vengeance.
"Lord Mizukage, everyone," Genshi's gaze swept over the grim expressions of the council, finally settling on the leader of the Mist. "Please, for the sake of our survival, calm your minds and take a careful look at the structural collapse Hidden Mist is currently facing."
He extended his withered fingers, counting their failures point by point. Every point was like a cold needle, piercing the already tattered pride of the Land of Water:
"First, the attempted strikes on Konoha. We mobilized our finest stealth units. Once, we were repelled by Uchiha Shisui and his 'Body Flicker' squad. The second time, the Seven Ninja Swordsmen were almost completely wiped out by 'Konoha's Azure Beast,' Might Duy. We returned with zero results and lost half our legendary blades."
"Second, the opportunistic attack on Sunagakure. We believed they were a broken system after their defeat at Kikyō Mountain. But what was the result? Ao's elite unit was pinned in the desert by Pakura's Scorch Release, unable to advance a single meter. Furthermore, our naval main force was ambushed at East Sea Bay by a puppeteer who controlled a machine we couldn't even identify. He killed three of our newly appointed Swordsmen on the spot and forced a total rout."
"Third, and the latest, most devastating blow!" Genshi's voice rose, filled with a sharp, clinical anguish. "Our own major stronghold, the southern key location Nagi Island, was breached by a force that acted as if they owned the sky! The port, the fleet, and the defensive garrison were utterly deleted! The Kaguya Clan has been broken! And the enemy? Only two people. One puppet. They even had the leisure to plunder our armories before calmly leaving. We didn't have a single counter-measure that could touch them."
Every word was like ripping open a fresh, bloody wound. The high-ranking officials grew paler, their breathing heavy with the weight of their own powerlessness. To Sayo, watching from afar through his intelligence network, this would have looked like a "forced system reboot."
"Sending out our entire force to launch a distant campaign against the Sand?" Genshi looked at the Mizukage, his tone heavy with dread. "Lord Mizukage, tell me, what do we have left to wage war with? Our naval strength has just been crippled! Our elite Jonin have suffered continuous loss! The clans inside the village are whispering of insurrection, and morale has crashed. If the main force leaves our home directory, can you guarantee that the Hidden Leaf won't seize the opportunity to format us? Can you guarantee that the Stone or the Cloud won't kick us while we're down? If we leave now, there may not be a Hidden Mist Village to return to."
The Third Mizukage clenched his fists so tightly that blood began to ooze from between his fingers, yet he felt no physical pain. Genshi's words were like buckets of ice water, extinguishing the frantic flames of his vengeance and leaving behind only the cold, biting chill of a leader who has run out of options.
He looked around the room. Even the most radical military officials, those who usually screamed for blood, were now avoiding his gaze and lowering their heads. Reality was a cruel administrator.
Yes, the Hidden Mist was no longer the fearsome "Bloody Mist" capable of terrorizing the five nations. Continuous failures and internal strife had hollowed out their foundation. The tragedy at Nagi Island was merely the removal of the last piece of cloth covering their decay.
A long, suffocating silence enveloped the office.
Finally, the Third Mizukage seemed drained of all his strength. He slumped back into his chair, the fire in his eyes fading into a dull, exhausted glow. He closed his eyes, his voice sounding like dry parchment.
"...Then... in your opinion, what is the optimal path?"
Genshi secretly breathed a sigh of relief. The most dangerous moment of the crisis had passed. He pondered for a moment, then spoke the choice that everyone was reluctant to accept but had no option but to face:
"Reopen the negotiations."
These few words were light, yet they weighed more than a thousand pounds of gold.
"However," Genshi added, a glint of political shrewdness flashing in his eyes, "the basis of the negotiation must change. We absolutely cannot admit to starting an unprovoked war; that would give the Sand too much leverage in the eyes of the Daimyos. This incident must be redefined as an 'unfortunate local conflict' resulting from escalated border friction and a massive misunderstanding."
"Based on this narrative," he continued, "we can 'consider' offering Sunagakure a certain level of 'resource compensation' to restore peace in the southern seas. But we must never call it 'reparations.' It will be 'humanitarian aid' or 'strategic resource sharing' based on mutual interest."
It was classic political spin, preserving the last shred of face while essentially surrendering. In the face of Sayo's "Gundam," this was the most dignified exit the Hidden Mist could secure.
The Third Mizukage remained silent for a long time. Finally, he gave an almost imperceptible nod.
"Do as you say." He waved his hand dismissively, his voice utterly spent. "Immediately contact our representatives at sea. Grant them the authority to settle this. Go... and talk."
As the officials left in silence, their footsteps heavy with the weight of defeat, the "Architect" of this peace sat miles away in Sunagakure. Sayo knew that the initiative had already completely shifted. He had used a single machine to force a Great Nation to rewrite its own history.
A negotiation based on an entirely new foundation was about to begin. And the Sand was finally the one holding the pen.
Plz Drop Some Power Stones.
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