The royal palace—just two words, yet they symbolized grandeur and solemnity.
But walking its halls now, one would think they had entered the ruins of a fallen dynasty, plundered by rebels at the end of its reign.
And the culprit behind this devastation—Ethan —couldn't have been more satisfied. After all, it was his handiwork.
Of course, at this moment he wasn't acting as Senju Hashirama.
He was Uchiha Madara.
"You are Uchiha Madara?"
From atop the throne, Dante looked down at the man before him.
A tall, commanding figure with long black hair covering one eye.
There was an indescribable aura about him, something that set him apart from ordinary men.
To Dante, who had met countless people, this man looked nothing like a profit-chasing merchant.
"Yes, Lord Dante," Ethan said calmly, bowing slightly. "I, Uchiha Madara, have come today to ease your burdens."
"Ease my burdens?"
Dante gave a mocking laugh. "So, you claim to know something?"
Ethan's lips curved into a faint smile. From his cloak, he drew out a sealed document and handed it to a nearby attendant.
"Everything that happened yesterday was the work of a man named Senju Hashirama. Within this file lies his background."
Standing proudly in the center of the ruined hall, Ethan watched Dante flip through the document with a calm smile.
Of course, this so-called "dossier" on Hashirama was pure fabrication.
But truth and falsehood often mattered less than timing.
When the right words were spoken at the right moment, even lies became reality.
"…Everything written here—is this true?"
After a long silence, Dante closed the file, his expression grave.
According to the document, Senju Hashirama hailed from an ancient, hidden clan—the Senju Clan.
Their history stretched back to antiquity, with every member said to possess strength at least on par with Zero Domain.
The clan's elites, it claimed, could even surpass that level entirely.
Exaggerations, perhaps. But power couldn't be fabricated.
And Dante himself had felt that power yesterday.
"Yes," Ethan nodded firmly. "Every word is accurate. After all, the Senju Clan has always been mortal enemies of the Uchiha Clan."
At that, Dante's brows lifted slightly.
The dossier didn't only contain information about the Senju—it also revealed Ethan's supposed background.
Like the Senju, the Uchiha were said to be an ancient clan with roots stretching back to the dawn of history.
"Even if all this is true," Dante said slowly, "there is one thing I still don't understand. Why did this Senju Hashirama come here, to my kingdom, to cause chaos?"
Ethan lowered his gaze, his tone solemn.
"For that, Lord Dante, I must apologize on behalf of my clan."
He paused, then continued, "The Senju and Uchiha have always been bitter enemies. Yet due to certain oaths, we are forbidden from attacking each other directly. Instead… we act through those we align ourselves with."
"Align… through proxies?"
Dante frowned, but before he could question further, Ethan pressed on.
"Once every hundred years, our clans send forth champions into the world. Each champion must choose a faction, and through that faction, our clans test their strength against one another.
From what I gather of your kingdom's international standing, it seems likely that Senju Hashirama has aligned himself with one of your rivals. His attack yesterday was nothing more than his way of sending a warning—an opening strike."
Ethan's words flowed with confidence, his delivery flawless.
Even Dante, seated high on the throne, found himself momentarily caught off guard.
"But wait, Lord Madara," spoke up Black, the kingdom's vizier.
"You claim this happens once every hundred years. That's not a short span—yet not so long that history would forget. And yet I, the vizier of Spade Kingdom, have never once heard of such a thing."
"One hundred years," he added with a frown. "That's within the memory of two generations. If your words are true, shouldn't there be records?"
Ethan chuckled lightly. "Tell me, Vizier… how vast do you think this world is?"
Black stiffened. "…What does that have to do with my question?"
"It has everything to do with it." Ethan clasped his hands behind his back and spoke as though lecturing a student. "From what I've seen, this continent holds only four great kingdoms—Spade, Clover, Heart, and Diamond. And since you've already destroyed the Diamond Kingdom, that leaves three."
"This continent?" Dante murmured, his eyes narrowing.
"Indeed," Ethan replied smoothly. "This is the first time our clans have ever set foot on this particular land. Did you truly think your kingdom would possess records of our ancient cycle?"
Dante's gaze sharpened, scrutinizing Ethan carefully.
He wasn't an ordinary man. Since gaining demonic power, Dante had uncovered truths about the world few knew.
It was true—this land wasn't the whole world.
Across the vast oceans lay other realms.
But…
"If what you say is true, then answer me this," Dante said sharply. "The seas are cursed. No one crosses them alive. How did you make it here?"
"Cursed seas?"
For the briefest moment, Ethan's heart skipped.
So that explained it—why no ships ventured beyond, why no tales spoke of distant civilizations.
There was something terrifying hidden within the oceans.
But outwardly, his expression didn't waver.
"A curse? Heh. Nothing more than an inconvenience," Ethan replied with a faint smirk.
"My Uchiha Clan has endured since the age of legends. Do you really think a mere curse could bar our path? Difficult, perhaps—but not impossible. Sending a few of us across was hardly beyond our reach."
His calm, unshaken demeanor made the lie all the more convincing.
"…Very well," Dante said after a long silence. "Let us assume your story is true. Then why have you come here today?"
Ethan met his eyes without hesitation.
"To join you," he declared firmly.
"Senju Hashirama has chosen your rivals. Naturally, I will never side with him. And since Spade is the first kingdom I set foot in, it is only natural that I lend you my strength. Support me, Lord Dante, and in return I will devote everything I have to supporting you in your ambitions."
For the first time, Dante's lips curled into a smile.
He had read the dossier.
He had heard the story.
If the Senju were truly that powerful, then their rivals—the Uchiha—must be no weaker.
Still… words alone were not enough.
BOOM!
In an instant, a vast surge of magic exploded outward from Dante, rolling through the throne room like a tidal wave.
It was overwhelming, crushing, unstoppable.
Every person in the chamber—save for Dante himself—collapsed to their knees, pinned to the ground like insects.
Ethan alone remained standing.
"Cooperation," Dante said, his smile widening, "will be most enjoyable."
Strength spoke louder than any words.
And this man before him… was no mere merchant.
Meeting his gaze, Ethan's lips curved into a matching smile.
"Cooperation it is."
For a moment, both men stood locked in silence, their eyes glimmering with amusement—
and with the fire of ambition for the future to come.
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