"How could the expenses be so great?"
The Daimyo of the Land of Fire frowned deeply as he flipped through the thick account book that Uchiha Makoto had placed before him. His eyes scanned line after line, and the more he read, the tighter his grip became on the scroll. The numbers were staggering. He had never imagined that nurturing ninjas would drain his coffers at such an alarming rate.
"Cultivation resources, logistics and maintenance, post-war subsidies, pension funds, weapons and equipment…" he muttered, reading aloud the categories. Each line was like a knife cutting into his treasury.
The report was merciless. Out of the ninety billion taels allocated, nearly sixty billion had already been consumed. Two-thirds gone in such a short span—it was beyond his imagination. He had heard that raising armies was costly, but this level of spending bordered on insanity.
"This speed of burning money… I have never seen anything like it," he whispered.
Uchiha Makoto, standing calmly by his side, interjected at just the right moment. "These ninjas, without exception, will loyally defend Your Highness. The funds may vanish quickly, but what you gain in return is absolute loyalty and protection."
His words were smooth, steady, and carefully measured. Every syllable pressed on the daimyo's unspoken fears. The truth was undeniable—without a trained army of loyal shinobi, the daimyo's throne could one day be at risk.
The daimyo fell silent, his brows furrowed. Uchiha Makoto's explanation was reasonable, and if he chose to raise further objections, it might sound like he was questioning not just Makoto, but also the entire existence of Akatsuki Village. That would be unwise.
Besides, the political landscape was shifting rapidly. The Senju clan's Hashirama was already an unstoppable force. If the daimyo failed to ensure he had his own loyal ninja forces, the future could easily spiral out of his control.
Between Hashirama and Makoto, the daimyo found Makoto far more reliable.
Compared to the overly idealistic Hashirama, Uchiha Makoto exuded both pragmatism and loyalty. Even if Makoto was ambitious, he knew how to work with nobles and did not treat the daimyo as an unnecessary figurehead. That alone made him far more trustworthy.
The daimyo exhaled heavily and closed the account book. He decided to put aside his suspicions. Instead of worrying about the past or nitpicking at expenditures, it was better to focus on stabilizing the present and ensuring the future.
Uchiha Makoto noticed his shift in attitude and pressed forward with his plan. "Your Highness, this is not necessarily a bad thing. Look at the current market—chaotic, fragmented, everyone trying to snatch their share like beggars scraping at the bottom of a pot. Such chaos benefits no one. Why not seize this chance to clean up the salt market?
"If we consolidate production and unify shipping, we can eliminate the smaller players who are diluting profits. Then we can control supply, raise the quality, and—most importantly—maximize revenue. A monopoly, under the daimyo's banner, would ensure stability and wealth for all involved."
The daimyo's eyes flickered with interest.
Makoto's reasoning was precise. Everyone knew a unified market could generate wealth beyond imagination. But for centuries, no one had succeeded. The salt market was like a pie that too many greedy hands tried to grab at once. Even the most powerful nobles failed to unify it because the resistance was too great.
Now, with Akatsuki Village's military power, this dream could become reality.
Makoto continued, his tone calm yet persuasive. "We do not intend to eat alone. Akatsuki Village will take thirty-five percent as a reward for enforcing the monopoly, while the remaining sixty-five percent will be shared among the Fire Nation's nobles. Your Highness will naturally take the lion's share, while the others will also receive their portion. The monopoly must be established swiftly, covering production, raw materials, workers, and distribution channels."
The daimyo stroked his beard. The proposal was bold, but not unreasonable. He could already envision the immense profits, as well as the increased political influence that would come with them.
Though it went against the traditions of his ancestors to let ninja organizations meddle in economic affairs, times had changed. The treasury was strained to its limit, and maintaining military strength required money. Without resources, even the most glorious title of Daimyo was meaningless.
"Very well," the daimyo finally declared. "Do as you say."
Makoto inclined his head respectfully.
This decision, though fraught with risks, was also an unparalleled opportunity. If they succeeded, the Land of Fire's finances would recover swiftly. If they failed… the consequences would be troublesome, but the daimyo trusted in Makoto's ability.
Akatsuki's strength would silence opposition.
After sealing the agreement, the daimyo invited Makoto to remain in the capital for a few more days. But Makoto declined politely. He had no interest in lingering amidst political scheming when Akatsuki Village awaited his return. With a bow, he departed swiftly.
---
Several days later, after returning to Akatsuki Village, Makoto received welcome news.
The Uzumaki clan's envoys had arrived.
To show respect, Makoto personally led a delegation five miles outside the village to greet them. Banners fluttered in the wind as the two groups approached each other.
"Everyone, welcome to Akatsuki Village," Makoto said warmly.
"Lord Light and Shadow is too polite," replied Uzumaki Shinji, the current clan head. His red hair glistened under the sun as he stepped forward. This visit was of utmost importance.
The Uzumaki clan had no desire to join Akatsuki Village, but they were interested in an alliance. Their refusal to join Konoha was still fresh in their hearts. Though they had close ties with the Senju clan, the betrayal still stung.
The Senju had founded Konoha with the Uchiha, leaving the Uzumaki clan out of the process entirely. Only after everything was settled did Hashirama inform them, as though tossing scraps to a forgotten ally.
It was insulting.
"Do you, the Uzumaki clan, want to join Konoha, founded by Senju and Uchiha?" Shinji had once mocked bitterly.
The Uzumaki, who once stood side by side with the Senju in life-and-death struggles, were now treated as outsiders. Hashirama seemed to view them as nothing more than his wife Mito's family, rather than a proud clan with their own standing.
Thus, the Uzumaki rejected Konoha's invitation not once, but twice. They waited for a third. In their eyes, only after being invited thrice could they enter Konoha with dignity, ensuring their place alongside the founders.
But Hashirama's letter had shattered even that hope. His words were careless, almost dismissive: If the Uzumaki clan does not wish to join, then so be it.
The slight was unforgettable.
---
As the delegation entered Akatsuki Village, Shinji observed carefully. He was struck by the atmosphere. The villagers greeted Makoto with genuine smiles, bows, and hopeful gazes. Women clasped their children's hands and called out respectfully, "Lord of Light and Shadow!"
It was rare. Shinobi villages often inspired fear in commoners, not admiration. Yet here, the air was filled with trust and unity.
Makoto explained casually, "These are the mothers and sisters of our students. When I established the Ninja Academy, I also brought in their families. By ensuring their safety and livelihoods, we secure the loyalty of the next generation of shinobi. None of them would betray the village when their families are part of it."
He gestured at the bustling streets, where men labored on construction projects and women worked at looms in textile workshops. "Idle hands breed trouble. Here, everyone has work. Men build, women weave, and all receive food and wages. Even if it costs resources now, it binds them to Akatsuki for life."
Shinji was stunned. Such foresight was unheard of among shinobi leaders. Most villages treated civilians as expendable tools, yet here they were given dignity and stability.
Makoto continued, his voice firm. "When the First Great Ninja War comes, countless shinobi will die. Their families will suffer most. I want every Akatsuki ninja to know—if they fall, their families will still live with dignity. That is how you raise warriors unafraid of death."
Shinji could not help but nod. The Uzumaki clan leader had lived through countless battles, but even he had never considered such a system. Looking around, he felt a shiver.
This was more than a village.
It was a force being forged—one that could rival Konoha itself.
He thought to himself: This thigh is as thick as Konoha's. The Uzumaki clan must hold on tight.
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