NOBILITY-Naruto nobility SI (Patreon)

Chapter 70

MIKOTO UCHIHA

When the sirens of war had rung once again, Mikoto had imagined the worst as she held onto her new babe with all her might, holding it near to her body as she imagined the bloody conflict up ahead.

Many in Konoha were tired of the constant wars, yet their daimyo had been attacked during a peace parley, and Konoha needed to retaliate.

And retaliate they had, and in all but a few years, Konoha had decimated Iwa and Kumo, wrecking their economies, starving their people, and bringing both villages and provinces on the brink of collapse.

It was an unconventional war focused more on economic ruin rather than a contest of shinobi forces as their daimyo flexed the might of their province's ideal geography and pivotal position in the food supply chain.

“I cannot believe the war is nearly over,” she remarked, as she found herself sitting on the very porch when the sirens had rung again, with the very same friend, though with a much bigger company, she would add.

“Yeah, this one was one strange war,” Kushina added from the side. Her red-haired friend had just returned from the front lines after fighting in the decisive battle between Kumo and Konoha. There were rumors that she had fought the infamous eight tails jinchuriki to a standstill as Minato dismantled the Fourth Raikage.

And yet, despite the good news, she had not missed the sheer tension in the air and how stiff her friend and lord husband remained. The end of the war and Konoha’s striking victory were cause for great celebrations, and yet both seemed rather troubled with each passing day.

“Kushina,” she began softly as she looked at Itachi and her friend’s red-haired apprentice playing with their two little toddlers.

“Yes,” her friend turned to face her as Mikoto began.

“What is going on?” she asked and saw the red-head’s eyes widen at her direct question.

“What do you mean?” she tried to downplay it, but she had had enough.

“I mean, why are you and Fugaku so worried despite the war coming to a close?” she added, and she saw her friend try to shake her head.

“It’s nothing like t...”

“Do not lie to me,” she said sharply, and immediately, the red-haired kunoichi quieted down.

“There is something going on,” she added. She was herself a jounin and was able to pick up the signs: how the wartime measures had not been loosened despite Konoha’s triumphs, how the shinobi force was still on high alert, ready for a massive attack.

“I can sense it, this imperceptible tension that grips the village. And only you, Fugaku, and a select few seem to be able to grasp the whole thing,” she continued and saw Kushina’s lips thin.

“Well, I don't know how much I can or should say,” her friend added with a sigh.

“Though keep what I am about to tell you to yourself. If things go as we suspect, the rest of the village may know soon enough as well,” Kushina began.

“The truth is that the war is not as over as we may believe it to be,” Kushina began, and she was taken aback by those words. She had expected as much, given the actions for the last few weeks.

“This war was simply a prelude to a greater conflict, all set up by a man so powerful and dreadful that even with the combined might of all the Great Nations, we still find ourselves on the back foot,” and she could not believe those words.

“You have to be lying,” she retorted, thinking it an exaggeration, but Kushina shook her head.

“I am not. This shinobi’s strength is something that we cannot underestimate. He could single-handedly reshape this entire continent if he were not stopped. For the past two years, even as we fought against Kumo and Iwa, the elites of Konoha have been preparing for this great fight, trying to prepare themselves for this eventual battle,” Kushina answered. And now all the rigorous training by Fugaku, made sense.

It was a bit surprising that Konoha had not swept both Iwa and Kumo in one giant strike. It seemed that the village was preserving its strengths, more specifically, the strength of its elite.

“You speak of him as if he is a god. As if it is Hashirama Senju or Madara Uchiha come again,” she gasped out and saw Kushina turn towards her.

“You don’t know just how right you are...”

And so, as her friend shared her great burden with her, both of them found themselves simply sitting there, even as the sun set and the moon rose in the skies. Their children, long tired from playing, now rested in their laps.

Boys born months apart, her son Sasuke with the Uchiha’s black curls, and Kushina’s with his father’s short blonde hair.

“So, you plan to face him?” she asked, and Kushina nodded as she sifted through her son’s locks.

“I do,” she replied softly before adding.

“I have to. Not for myself but for our son and for his future. I am amongst the few who can stand a chance,” she replied.

“But what if...” and words failed her as she stifled those dark thoughts and refused to continue, though Kushina understood her question.

“Then I entrust him with you,” she answered, and guilt and pain wretched her gut as she saw her friend look at her with that smile.

“We will do our best to defeat this man, but if we fail, we shall try our best to buy the world a bit of time. Time for the next generation to grow and succeed where we have failed,” and at that, her friend reached into her pocket, took out a small scroll, and passed it to her.

“When we made peace with Kiri, this was part of the deal. This scroll contains the key to the Uzuhio lands. I have spent the last year reconfiguring the seals around it while clearing out the remains of the battle. If the worst comes to pass, go there. The seals there will hold against anything.”

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OHNOKI-

Ohnoki had expected death when he had engaged Sarutobi and the Konoha forces as a last-ditch effort to turn the tide of the war, even though in his heart, he knew that there was little chance that they would succeed.

War was not simply a conflict of shinobi, determined by strength even though that was the biggest part. War had many facets ranging from politics, logistics, morale, propaganda, rhetoric, and so forth.

The truth was that despite their initial grievance and hate, Iwa and Kumo had never truly been able to justify the restart of hostilities to both its shinobi and its common folk, who had had little to no time to recover from the effects of the last war.

All this had been aggravated by the losses suffered by them in their initial days as they failed in their attempt to assassinate the new and young daimyo and then failed at attacking Konoha through Ame, taking massive losses in their attempt to traverse those lands.

And now their fate was sealed, as Ohnoki found himself sitting in a sell, his whole body chained, which had hundreds of seals on them, keeping him from moving an inch or molding even a spicule of chakra.

However, he was not the only one, for beside him was none other than the Raikage brat, who was chained much like him.

Yet, to his surprise, they had been treated relatively well, given their crimes. A respect to their station as Kage perhaps.

And then he heard the doors to his cell open, as he heard the sound of footsteps entering the room, two pairs he quickly identified, as the seal on his eyes stopped him from seeing. The only sense he still had was his hearing.

He heard them come to a halt infront of him before a small voice commanded.

“Unseal their eyes and mouths, and leave me.” This was not that blonde devil. No, this was someone else, someone he could recognize easily.

“But my lor....”

“Do as I say. I see no danger here,” and wasn’t that an insult? He felt the seal on his face untangle, and he opened his eyes. It took a moment for them to adjust to the darkness in the room, and as the fogginess cleared up, he found himself staring at the face of their new guest.

He was young, younger than even that blonde bastard, with a chiseled, angular face and dark raven black hair running behind him. The kimono he wore was made of the finest cloth he had ever seen, and his iconic sword was there bound to his belt as he sat infront of them.

The boy they had tried to kill. The daimyo that had started it all.

He doubted there was anyone in the whole continent who did not know of him by now.

Akihito Shirahosi, the fire daimyo, and the first Shogun in a hundred years.

And as he saw him looking down at him, he did not see the hate, anger, or haughtiness he had expected to see. He saw pity and determination in those eyes.

“Are you here to finally put us out of our misery,” he asked as he looked the boy in the eye.

“No, as much as I loathe you and your actions. I am afraid death will be too small a punishment for you and your sins,” the boy began, and he scoffed.

“Do not talk to me about sins, boy. You here to gloat, then gloat,” he challenged.

“And what should I gloat about? The thousands who lost their lives because of your bull-headedness when you refused to accept the generous peace I offered you all,” the boy snarled.

“Regardless, I am not here to tell you that both Iwa and Kumo have laid down their arms,” the boy announced.

And that was expected, and he saw the Raikage grind his teeth at that as well.

“I leave for a Grand Council soon, where the official declaration of the end of hostilities will be made,” the boy announced.

“Then why are you here talking to us old timers?” he asked

“Because I want you to accompany me on this trip.”

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