The paper in Yuto's hands was little more than a cheaply printed flyer, but its contents were anything but mundane.
[*To the little brat from the Land of Waves, I am Uchiha Madara!*]
[*Your declaration of war has been received. That you dare call this a righteous cause is laughable!*]
[*You, little brat, have brought nothing but ruin to your nation and its people, making the mothers of others your life's pursuit! How does such behavior differ from that of a beast? How can a child like you claim righteousness? If this is justice, then what in this world can be called just?*]
[*Thus, I, Uchiha Madara, urge all citizens of the Land of Waves: abandon your folly and join the light!*]
[*Only shinobi are the future of this world! Only we shinobi can lead the world toward a new path!*]
[*Signed, The Allied Shinobi Forces: Uchiha Madara*]
Yuto couldn't hold back an amused snort.
'Seriously? This was the best he could do?'
The entire proclamation read like it was written by a try-hard middle schooler attempting a villainous monologue.
Madara was clearly a novice at this, stuffing his declaration with overly formal, archaic phrases that he probably thought sounded intimidating, but only came off as awkward and cringeworthy.
The best part, however, was that Madara had actually asked for his opinion.
A message popped up in the mysterious communicator.
[Magical Girl]: Well? How'd I do in my war declaration?
Yuto had to physically bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. He managed to stifle the sound, but the two women leaning against his back were not so disciplined.
Kushina and Mikoto shook with silent, helpless laughter.
"Hahahaha… is he for real?" Kushina finally whispered, her voice thick with disbelief.
Mikoto nodded, a wry smirk gracing her lips.
"You have to give him points for effort. He's trying to break the mold. He just… doesn't seem to know what the mold is in the first place. The result is… unique."
"Ooh, 'unique,'" Kushina echoed, raising a dramatic eyebrow. "Listen to you, all high-brow. You sound like a professional critic."
"It's called a well-rounded education, dear."
"Are you implying I don't have one of those?"
"I would never be so bold."
"Uh-huh."
As they devolved into their usual playful bickering, Yuto wisely stayed out of it and turned his attention back to the communicator.
[Dumb Snack]: Yeah, so… you've got a really solid foundation here. Lots of potential. A ton of room to grow.
[Magical Girl]: …Is that a compliment?
[Dumb Snack]: Let's call it constructive feedback. First off, the vibe is all wrong. This reads less "I will conquer your nation" and more "I'm telling mom you stole my lunch money." And 'Making the mothers of others your life's pursuit'? Who talks like that? It just sounds fake.
[Magical Girl]: But it's TRUE! That punk is exactly that kind of scum!
[Dumb Snack]: Who told you that?
[Magical Girl]: No one needed to tell me—I figured it out myself!
Yuto could practically see Madara on the other side, puffing his chest out with absolute, unshakable certainty. The image was too much to bear.
"He figured it out himself!" Kushina cackled, having given up on any pretense of quiet. "I can't! He's a genius!"
"Ask him what his source is," Mikoto suggested, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Did someone steal his wife? Is that where this is coming from?"
Yuto shot her a look.
The sweet and gentle Mikoto was spending far too much time with Kushina; it was making her devious. And besides, Madara didn't have a wife. That was a whole other can of worms.
[Dumb Snack]: You figured it out yourself? Wow, I didn't know you'd branched out into private investigation. Impressive resume update.
[Magical Girl]: SHUT UP. The point is, the wording is fine. It's impactful.
[Dumb Snack]: Okay, fine, let's move to the next part. 'Urge all citizens to abandon your folly and join the light'? Dude, are you the hero in a bad samurai movie? This isn't going to inspire them to switch sides. It's just going to make them hate you more.
[Magical Girl]: Hmph. Let them hate. What can they do?
[Dumb Snack]: Oh, I don't know… curse your name, spit on the ground when you walk by, teach their children nasty rhymes about you? Just trying to save you from a future of being the boogeyman they scare kids with.
[Magical Girl]: They wouldn't DARE.
[Dumb Snack]: You're right. My mistake. So, you already sent this out, I'm guessing?
[Magical Girl]: Obviously.
[Dumb Snack]: Look, I get it. You sent this to me hoping for a pat on the head. But I'm an honest guy. I call it like I see it.
[Magical Girl]: Screw you, GO DIE
[Dumb Snack]: Hahaha, okay, okay, my bad. Anyway, have you started moving your troops yet?
[Magical Girl]: Not yet. I'm sending the southern division first. They'll cross the marshlands and launch a surprise attack on Wave's southern border.
[Dumb Snack]: Not bad. That's actually kinda smart.
[Magical Girl]: Hmph! Commanding armies isn't new to me—I've done it before with the clan forces!
[Dumb Snack]: But have you considered what happens if they get ambushed?
[Magical Girl]: How could they? That Hayashi Yuto isn't a god!
Yuto closed the communicator with a soft sigh.
"He's right, you know," he said to the room, the two women now listening intently. "I'm not a god."
A small, predatory smile touched his lips.
—
The Southern Marshes
The Third Raikage, A, scowled as his boot sank into yet another patch of sucking mud with a wet schlup.
"I'm starting to question Madara's brilliant strategies," he grumbled, yanking his foot free.
Beside him, the Second Tsuchikage, Mū, floated serenely just above the mud.
"The order to avoid using ninjutsu is a prudent one. The Land of Waves' surveillance is… unnerving."
Leading this shinobi division were the Hollowfied Second Tsuchikage Mū and the Third Raikage A.
"Prudent?" the Raikage scoffed. "We're shinobi wading through a swamp without using chakra. It's idiotic. If they already know we're coming, why all this sneaking around? Let's just pick a field and have it out like proper men"
"A noble sentiment," Mū replied, his tone flat. "But we are not in charge. We simply follow the plan."
"The plan," the Raikage muttered darkly. "If there's even a single enemy in this miserable, boggy hellscape, I'll—"
FWOOSH!
A fireball the size of a small house slammed into the marsh directly ahead of them, exploding in a geyser of steam and superheated mud.
Standing on a gnarled tree branch overlooking the path was a man with a truly impressive physique and an even more impressive grin.
"Well, well. Fancy meeting you gentlemen all the way out here. Third Raikage. It's been a while."
The previous Raikage looked up, a cold smirk finally replacing his scowl.
"Fuguki Suikazan. Should've known they'd send a glorified fisherman to greet us."
"Just think of me as a very dedicated toll collector," Fuguki said, hefting his massive Zanpakutō onto his shoulder. The steel gleamed dully in the swamp light. "And I'm afraid this path is closed for maintenance."
"We are passing through," the Raikage growled, electricity beginning to crackle around his body like a storm given form. "One way or another."
"I was hoping you'd say that."
In a blinding blur of blue lightning, the Raikage shot forward, his right hand extended with three fingers pointed like a spear.
Hell Stab: Three-Finger Nukite!
CLANG!
The sound of impact was deafening, a shockwave of pure force rippling outwards.
Fuguki had met the legendary technique head-on, his sword holding firm against the piercing strike. A wide, almost feral grin split his face.
"Is that all you've got?" he taunted, muscles bulging as he pushed back. "As expected from a cheap imitation."
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