The night was as dark as ink.
At the Daimyo Manor, in a secluded and quiet courtyard, this place was usually untouched by anyone, with only rockeries, flowing water, and a dead plum tree.
Tonight, however, a lone lamp flickered in the courtyard.
Biwa Jūzō stood under the lamp, his shadow stretched long.
He wore the standard Hidden Mist uniform, and the massive Kubikiribōchō strapped to his back broke the silence of the courtyard.
A faint killing intent lingered in the air.
He was here because of an unsigned note that had appeared abruptly on his pillow, no one else had noticed it.
To be able to come and go unnoticed under his nose, within a heavily guarded embassy,
that alone was enough to be a show of power.
Jūzō's eyes gleamed darkly, veins bulging on the hand gripping his blade.
He was not afraid of death.
Which of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist hadn't crawled out from a pile of corpses?
But he hated being toyed with, whether by that tyrant back in the village or by this mysterious schemer.
Creak.
The moon gate opened.
A man walked in, carrying a pot of tea and two cups.
The newcomer wore black, his face handsome, and there was no trace of Chakra within him.
Jūzō's muscles tensed instantly.
The one who arrived was none other than the new Daimyo of the Land of Fire, Chiba Arashi.
Jūzō had considered countless possibilities,
but never that the one meeting him secretly at night would be this new ruler himself.
A Daimyo coming alone to meet an enemy Jōnin?
Was this basically walking into a trap?
Ignoring the killing intent radiating from Jūzō, Arashi walked straight to the stone table and sat down, pouring himself two cups of tea.
He spoke calmly, "Sit."
His tone was steady and unhurried.
Jūzō didn't move, his cold gaze fixed on him. His voice was rough.
"Daimyo of the Land of Fire, you've got guts!"
Arashi lifted the cup, blowing on the rising steam, then glanced at him.
"What right does a man who doesn't even dare draw his sword have to speak of courage?"
The words made Jūzō's face darken.
His hand had been gripping his sword all along, but his instincts screamed at him that this man before him was extremely dangerous, more dangerous than any opponent he had ever faced.
Jūzō dropped the pretense and asked directly, "Why did you call me here? What do you want?"
Arashi was just as direct. "I think you're impressive, so I'm giving you a chance—to serve me."
Jūzō let out a sharp laugh, baring his white teeth.
"Serve you? Me, Biwa Jūzō of Hidden Mist, swear allegiance to you, the Daimyo of the Land of Fire?"
"You haven't woken up yet, have you?"
Arashi wasn't angered. His tone remained calm.
"If not to me, then who do you serve? The Hidden Mist? The Fourth Mizukage, Yagura Karatachi? Are you truly loyal to them?"
Jūzō's smile froze.
Watching his reaction, Arashi silently recalled this man's future.
Biwa Jūzō, a tragic yet respectable figure.
Disgusted by the Blood Mist tyranny, he would one day defect and join Akatsuki.
His future partner would be that monster—Uchiha Itachi.
And his end would come on a mission,
when he used the Kubikiribōchō to block a Tailed Beast Ball to protect Itachi.
The blade pierced his abdomen, and he died from his wounds.
A man who died by his own weapon.
A man who, despite being from the Mist, sacrificed his life to protect a comrade from an enemy village.
Arashi's eyes softened slightly.
A scoundrel with principles.
A rogue ninja who valued loyalty, fundamentally stubborn.
Once such a man gave his loyalty, he would be far more reliable than any opportunist.
These thoughts flashed by.
His gaze on Jūzō carried a faint appreciation.
"You and I are both tired of this twisted world."
"Ninja are used as tools in the games of the powerful, dying meaningless deaths on the battlefield."
"Civilians are displaced by war, unable to even survive."
"Villages are ruled by ambitious fools and madmen, who build their power with the blood of their comrades."
"Don't you think this world should have been destroyed and remade long ago?"
Jūzō frowned deeply, his eyes narrowing, his tone sharp.
"What exactly are you getting at?"
Arashi leaned back in his chair.
"I want to end it all."
"I want to build a new order—a truly peaceful world without war or prejudice,
where both ninja and civilians can live in peace."
Jūzō was silent for a long moment. Then he burst out laughing, a harsh, mocking sound.
"Peace? What a lofty dream."
"Then tell me, Daimyo-sama, what do you have to back it up?"
"Just your words?"
He stepped forward, and a suffocating killing intent swept through the courtyard,
scattering the fallen leaves.
The candlelight flickered violently, nearly going out.
Yet Arashi sat unmoved, unflinching.
"Back it up?" he repeated softly, almost amused.
He didn't answer. Instead, he raised his hand and extended one finger toward the empty stone table.
The next instant, Jūzō's mind went blank.
No hand signs.
No Chakra fluctuations.
Tiny motes of light gathered at Arashi's fingertip, condensing into form.
First, antennae.
Then, wings.
Finally—a complete butterfly.
A living butterfly, born from nothing.
It fluttered gently, tracing an arc through the air, before landing on the branch of the dead plum tree.
This wasn't Ninjutsu.
Jūzō's thoughts froze completely.
Ninjutsu was the manipulation of chakra, shape transformation, nature transformation, all applications of existing energy.
But this?
Creation from nothing.
He was watching life itself being created out of thin air.
What kind of power was this?
Jūzō's hand on his sword trembled violently.
A bead of cold sweat slid down his temple,
falling to the stone slab and shattering.
His killing intent crumbled away completely.
"Now, do you understand what I have to back it up?"
Arashi's calm voice echoed again.
Jūzō stared at him, fear and awe intertwining in his eyes.
If… if such power existed, perhaps it really could change that cursed world.
His throat tightened, and he forced out a hoarse voice, "I… I will serve you!"
"As long as you help me kill Yagura Karatachi and end the Mist's tyranny!"
His teeth clenched hard as he spoke that name.
Arashi smiled and shook his head.
"Yes, but not yet."
"What I seek to end isn't a single village—it's the entire world."
Jūzō's fists clenched, nails digging into flesh.
Arashi looked at him and continued, "You can stay by my side and watch."
"The day you believe I've broken my promise, you can leave freely.
Your sword, your will—I won't stop you."
"But if you choose to stay…"
Arashi stood up and walked toward him,
his shadow completely enveloping Jūzō.
"You and your sword will be the ones to usher in my era—a unified world."
"The Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist? That title means nothing to me."
"What I offer you is the right to personally forge a new world."
As his words fell, Jūzō stopped resisting.
He knelt on one knee, raising the Kubikiribōchō with both hands, placing it horizontally before him, and lowered his proud head.
"I, Biwa Jūzō… am willing to die for you, my lord!"
(To be continued.)
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