Just as Kumogakure was preparing another round of fierce assaults, and Konohagakure was bracing itself to withstand the next offensive—
In the Land of Iron, the capital city, at the General's Residence—
Unlike the increasingly tense atmosphere outside, where a war capable of sweeping across most of the shinobi world could erupt at any moment, the Land of Iron remained as tranquil as ever.
Winter sunlight filtered through the lattice windows into the hall, spilling across the tatami mats as shifting patterns of light and shadow spread through the room. Several attendants knelt quietly in the corners, silently brewing tea.
General Mifune sat upright at the head seat, documents spread before him as he listened to reports from his subordinates regarding preparations for the national swordsmanship tournament scheduled for six months later.
The grand event, held once every three years, had already entered the final stage of participant registration. Swordsmanship associations from various regions and cities were gradually submitting contestant information.
Beside Mifune sat an elderly man with white hair and beard, yet still remarkably vigorous in appearance, leisurely flipping through some of the participant files that had already arrived.
He was none other than Rokuruma, the previous General. Though he had retired many years ago and was now past seventy, Mifune would still invite him to observe major affairs out of respect and a desire for guidance.
As he listened to the detailed reports from his subordinates, Mifune occasionally nodded or raised questions. Suddenly, Rokuruma's fingers paused on a document, and the corners of his mouth curled upward slightly.
"Mifune, take a look at this."
Rokuruma handed the file over.
"Do you remember the interesting young man named Isshin I mentioned to you last time?"
"Isshin?"
Hearing the name, Mifune blanked momentarily before recalling him, a faint smile appearing on his face.
"You mean the kid who went to Konohagakure a few months ago and hired Konoha ninja to fight him?"
The incident had stirred quite a bit of discussion among the Land of Iron's upper ranks and the samurai community. People felt the young man's actions were unconventional. Though his goal had been to pursue breakthroughs in swordsmanship, and everything he did had technically been legal and within the rules, hiring ninja to duel with him still felt somewhat contrary to the traditional spirit of the samurai.
"That's the one." Rokuruma nodded, gesturing for Mifune to continue reading.
Mifune accepted the file, his smile fading as he carefully examined its contents.
The document detailed the movements of the young samurai named Isshin over the past two years.
At first, Mifune frowned slightly. The records described him as battle-hungry by nature. Not only had he traveled throughout the country, but he had also frequently challenged famous swordsmanship schools and renowned samurai wherever he went. His actions were flashy, aggressive, and at times completely lacking in tact. Incidents of storming dojo after dojo were commonplace.
However, as he continued reading the more detailed battle records and witness descriptions, Mifune's expression shifted. His frown deepened at first, then gradually relaxed, until he finally shook his head with an almost helpless smile.
"This kid..." Mifune closed the file, his tone complicated. "He really is obsessed with fighting. For the sake of victory, he'll use any means necessary."
He turned toward the subordinates who had also started looking over.
"You all should read this too. This kid is very interesting. In some ways, you could even call him utterly rebellious."
The several calm and composed subordinates dressed in traditional samurai attire passed the document among themselves one by one. Unlike Mifune's earlier reaction of frowning before turning amused, their faces darkened almost the entire time they read.
"This!? What kind of disgrace is this?!"
"In a sword duel, he actually used firearms?! This is a desecration of the samurai way!"
"General Mifune! Rokuruma-sama!" One of the more rigid and upright subordinates dropped to one knee at once, indignation written all over his face. "This young man's conduct completely violates the spirit of honorable combat upheld by us samurai! He relies on tricks and deceit like a despicable opportunist! I request that his tournament qualification be revoked immediately and that he be punished accordingly to set an example!"
The others nodded in agreement, their expressions equally displeased.
To them, the sword was the soul of a samurai, and swordsmanship duels were sacred rituals.
Using guns?
How was that any different from those ninja who pursued results by any means necessary?
No—if anything, it was even worse.
Mifune did not immediately respond to the request. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the quietly seated Rokuruma and respectfully asked: "Rokuruma-sama, what do you think?"
Rokuruma smiled faintly instead of answering directly.
"Mifune, you are now the General of the Land of Iron. This decision should naturally be yours to make."
After a brief pause, he continued: "However, this old man has lived for over seventy years. I've experienced many things, and I've made mistakes that could never be undone. So perhaps I do have a few thoughts worth sharing, even if they may no longer fit the times."
"The philosophy this kid follows—his willingness to use any means necessary for victory—does indeed conflict with the samurai spirit passed down through generations. It is not something that should be encouraged, nor should it be promoted among the younger generation. However—"
His tone shifted as he continued: "But the kid said one thing that was absolutely right. On a real battlefield, in a life-and-death struggle, nobody cares whether your methods are honorable. The enemy will use every possible means to kill you."
The subordinates frowned deeply, clearly wanting to argue, but Rokuruma raised a hand to stop them.
"I know what you want to say. We samurai pursue the Way! We pursue righteousness! We believe in fighting openly and honorably! That is true, and it remains the foundation of our identity."
"But Mifune—and all of you—you still remember it, don't you? The last great ninja war..."
The moment those words were spoken, the atmosphere in the room instantly froze.
Mifune's expression turned solemn, and the subordinates all fell silent.
Back then, the Second Great Ninja War had also been raging at its height.
At the time, Rokuruma had still been the General. Stubborn by nature, he firmly believed that the Land of Iron's status as a permanently neutral nation would be respected by every faction involved—especially because he had once made an agreement with the famed "Hanzo of the Salamander," Hanzō, whose reputation had been rapidly rising back then.
Thus, he had confidently assured both the citizens and the samurai that Amegakure—and the other hidden villages as well—would never invade the Land of Iron.
The result, however, was that Hanzō mercilessly tore up the agreement and personally led Amegakure's elite forces in a brazen invasion, launching surprise attacks with every kind of ninja method imaginable, including deadly poison.
Caught completely unprepared, the Land of Iron's border defenses collapsed at the first blow. Facing bizarre ninjutsu and lethal poison mist unlike anything they had ever encountered before, the samurai suffered devastating losses. Vast stretches of territory fell, and civilians were driven from their homes.
Although they later managed to repel Hanzō through the desperate efforts of rising-generation core samurai like Mifune, along with interference from other hidden villages, the price they paid was unimaginably heavy.
And this incident directly led to General Rokuruma resigning to take responsibility.
After that, this old general—who had once stubbornly upheld every principle of traditional bushidō—underwent a profound shift in mindset.
Rokuruma's gaze slowly swept across the room as his voice turned low and heavy.
"Last time, my stubbornness and naïveté made the nation pay in blood. There was nothing wrong with us holding fast to righteousness, but the enemy will not spare us because of it. And now, with another great ninja war already beginning, one that may surpass the previous one in scale, we have no idea whether another ambitious man like Hanzō—or someone even more cunning and more devoid of principles—might set their sights on the Land of Iron."
At this point, Rokuruma looked toward Mifune.
"Perhaps, while we continue preserving orthodox bushidō and training upright samurai, allowing the existence of a warrior and school like Isshin's—one that bends the rules a little, or is even outright unconventional—may not necessarily be a bad thing."
"Just like a blade needs its sharpest and most orthodox edge, perhaps it also needs an unassuming hook or hidden barb capable of striking unexpectedly... to deal with enemies who refuse to play by the rules and are deceitful beyond measure."
Hearing this, Mifune fell silent for a moment before slowly nodding.
"Rokuruma-sama, you're right. In times of chaos, we need the righteous sword that upholds our principles... but perhaps we also need an unconventional blade that exists outside the rules."
At that, Mifune turned toward his subordinates.
"How about this? As long as the kid's methods six months from now aren't... well... aren't too excessive, we'll pretend we didn't see anything."
The group exchanged glances before solemnly acknowledging the order.
"Yes!"
What a battle-crazed fellow—and one willing to use any means necessary.
That thought, carrying equal parts disdain, helplessness, and curiosity, rose simultaneously in everyone's mind.
…
Meanwhile, at the northeastern headquarters of the Land of Fire, Higashino Shinichi had no idea that, far away in the Land of Iron, the country's upper leadership was arguing over the conduct of his clone, or that it had even prompted an old general to deeply reconsider national strategy.
At this moment, he was merely staring blankly at the personal status panel before him.
Within the talent section, the green entry Bloodied Battle had vanished, replaced by a deep azure glow.
[Unmatched by Ten Thousand Foes (Blue): Your fighting spirit and presence can now tangibly influence the outside world. With the might of a single person, you can intimidate entire groups of enemies, creating overwhelming pressure upon them. During intense combat, the fighting spirit within your heart will materially transform into strength. As battle drags on or as you sustain injuries, your sense of pain and bodily exhaustion will gradually diminish, while your strength, speed, and reaction ability will steadily increase (up to a limit). Upon reaching the peak, you can release the fighting spirit within your heart together with your attacks in one explosive burst, significantly enhancing their power.]
Now which top-ranking supporter suddenly contributed this new perception?
Kumogakure? Or Sunagakure?
The impression he gave them shouldn't have been that of a battle maniac, right?
But then...
After a second thought, Shinichi realized that several months ago, the arena duel he and his clone Isshin had staged together had already spread Isshin's battle-hungry image throughout all of Konoha.
Although the external recognition effect of clone entries was only fifty percent, the scale and impact of that duel had simply been too overwhelming—one hundred thousand spectators, with the entire village discussing it nonstop.
The green entry Bloodied Battle itself already contained contributions from Isshin's reputation in the Land of Iron, where he had gone around challenging dojo after dojo and constantly picking fights.
Then came the arena incident, adding another massive layer on top of it.
The two stacked together. Although the fifty-percent reduction prevented it from directly advancing into a blue entry, it had most likely already reached a critical threshold.
And now, someone had probably added the final—and most crucial—spark to the perception that had already been on the verge of breaking through.
Thinking of this, Shinichi closed his eyes.
With a slight shift of thought, an invisible yet powerful field of pressure quietly spread outward from him. It was a kind of momentum born from spirit and will itself.
A resolute determination that seemed to declare: even against thousands upon thousands, I alone would still advance forward.
A tyrannical killing intent that regarded entire armies as nothing.
This pressure was invisible and intangible, yet it felt as though it possessed actual weight. The already stagnant air inside the tent instantly grew several degrees heavier and thicker, while even the glow of the lamps seemed to faintly contract inward and distort.
At the same time, Shinichi deliberately recalled his past battles against enemies. Those memories of blood and fire became like fuel thrown into some inner flame.
In an instant, an invisible surge of heat welled up from the deepest part of his heart and rushed through every limb and vein. His blood and chakra began to boil faintly, while the veins beneath his skin subtly bulged outward.
The powerful pressure surrounding him became even sharper and more domineering, like a blade unsheathed from its scabbard, exposing all its killing edge.
The tent curtains trembled faintly beneath the invisible pressure, and the papers on the table rustled softly.
Good.
Shinichi reopened his eyes, clenched his fist, then slowly loosened it again.
He raised his head, his gaze passing through the tent curtains toward the distant snowstorm.
Perfect timing.
Kumogakure's reinforcements should already have arrived by now. A new and even stronger offensive was about to begin.
And when it did—
It would be the perfect chance to test this out.
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