The Senju clan and the Uchiha clan were already powerful to begin with—
powerful enough to be called the top-tier bloodline clans of the entire shinobi world.
And now… they had reconciled.
This was terrifying.
As for Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara, the Daimyō found himself thinking further and further ahead the more he considered their strength.
As a result, his mood was terrible—
no, absolutely dreadful would have been more accurate.
Yet he couldn't show it.
Because Uchiha Makoto was sitting right in front of him.
Makoto was an Uchiha. With the Uchiha and Senju abandoning war and choosing peace, he should, in theory, be pleased.
After all—
Makoto didn't look like a born butcher, someone who delighted in slashing people apart with kunai and shuriken on the battlefield.
You kill someone today—
tomorrow, someone might kill you.
Who didn't want to live a little longer?
Seeing the stiff smile on the Daimyō's face, Makoto smiled back and teased lightly:
"Your Excellency, your expression doesn't look very good."
"Are you feeling unwell?"
"Would you like me to summon a medical ninja to examine you?"
Inside, the Daimyō was wishing with all his heart that the Senju and the Uchiha would slaughter each other until rivers of blood flowed—until both clans were wiped out completely.
Yet on the surface, he still had to exchange polite words.
This, Makoto thought, is dirty politics.
"N-No need," the Daimyō replied quickly.
"I simply didn't sleep well last night."
Faced with Makoto's sudden concern, the Fire Daimyō could only brush it off.
"Oh, then Your Excellency must take good care of your health," Makoto said earnestly.
"The future of the Land of Fire rests squarely on your shoulders!"
Makoto's political awareness was impeccable.
Whose mountain you're standing on determines which song you sing.
Right now, it wouldn't hurt to add a bit more weight onto the Daimyō's shoulders.
Later—once Makoto himself had grown strong enough—he could always help share that burden.
Just not yet.
The Daimyō visibly relaxed at Makoto's words.
That's right!
The Land of Fire is resting on my shoulders!
Uchiha Makoto—your political consciousness is even higher than I expected!
The Daimyō couldn't help but look at Makoto with new appreciation.
The gloomy atmosphere eased considerably.
"But there's more," Makoto continued.
"Senju Hashirama has a grand vision."
"He intends to unite with Madara-sama to establish a shinobi village belonging to ninja."
"To gather all shinobi clans under one banner—"
"And ultimately sweep across the entire shinobi world, rebuilding its order from the ground up!"
Makoto hadn't forgotten why he was here.
It was time to get to the real business of the day—
applying political 'ointment' to Senju Hashirama.
And to be fair, he wasn't fabricating rumors out of thin air.
This was Hashirama's dream.
Establish a village.
Unite the clans.
End the wars—
…Alright, maybe the "sweep the entire shinobi world" part was the plus edition.
But as Makoto enthusiastically painted Hashirama's blueprint, the words grew increasingly unpleasant to the Daimyō's ears.
Establish a village.
Absorb all shinobi clans.
Sweep the shinobi world.
The Daimyō had no doubt whatsoever that Hashirama and Madara could actually do it.
If those two truly joined forces—
Susanoo clad in a Great Buddha, the two of them leveling the shinobi world together—
that wasn't a joke.
Flattening the shinobi world?
Frankly speaking, it could be done in days.
Three days, maybe.
Unifying the shinobi world would be easy.
Too easy.
So why hadn't Hashirama done it already?
Because he was kind.
Because he wanted peace—not dominion.
But the Fire Daimyō didn't see it that way.
First, establish an organization—a shinobi village.
Then, recruit troops and absorb clans.
Finally, sweep the land.
Isn't that the three-step handbook for rebellion?!
Senju Hashirama—
what exactly are you trying to do?
"Rebuild the order of the shinobi world"?
Is this really about peace?
Don't make me laugh.
You're clearly eyeing my clothes, my throne, my authority—
You're despicable!
At least come up with a better excuse!
So blatant—so shameless!
Once you ninja unite under one leader and form a single interest group—
Then tell me:
In the future, will this world be ruled by daimyō and nobles,
or by you shinobi?
Terrifying…
Absolutely terrifying.
Senju Hashirama—
You are too terrifying!!
As a political creature, the Fire Daimyō was instinctively sensitive to such matters.
Because some things weren't about wanting or planning—
They happened naturally as circumstances evolved.
Power always sought out the most suitable owner.
One day, the ceremonial robes symbolizing the Daimyō's authority might inexplicably end up draped over Hashirama's shoulders—
Whether Hashirama wanted them or not.
There would always be "loyal retainers" eager to remove obstacles like the Daimyō on his behalf.
"That… that's truly an impressive vision," the Daimyō said.
His hands unconsciously tightened around the armrests of his chair as he forced a stiff smile at Makoto.
Outside the window, dusk had fallen.
The last rays of sunset hung on the horizon.
Tonight, he suspected, sleep would be impossible.
Makoto's smile only grew brighter.
He knew his objective had been achieved.
The more fearful and wary the Fire Daimyō became of the Senju–Uchiha reconciliation,
the more advantageous the situation was for Makoto.
"Your Excellency," Makoto asked gently,
"do you approve of such a future?"
"Ah—no, no, no," the Daimyō said hurriedly, shaking his head like a rattle drum.
"I… have a slightly different opinion."
Approve?
Hashirama uniting clans, founding a village, sweeping the shinobi world?
Unless he'd gone mad!
For a thousand years, the daimyō's diplomatic objective had never changed:
A divided shinobi world.
Let the Uzumaki clan and the Senju restrain the Uchiha.
Let the Hyūga ally with and oppose the Uchiha in turns.
Add the Kaguya clan, the Kurama clan—
In short: divide the shinobi world!
"Your Excellency, I actually agree," Makoto said, nodding.
"I also have a very different view regarding the Senju–Uchiha alliance."
The Fire Daimyō's eyes lit up instantly.
He couldn't help but eagerly anticipate what Makoto would say next.
"As a pure-blooded Uchiha," Makoto declared firmly,
"I believe the Senju and the Uchiha can never truly abandon a thousand years of blood feud and reconcile."
"This is utter nonsense!"
The Daimyō nodded repeatedly without even realizing it.
Yes—exactly!
Listen to that!
How authentic!
How Uchiha!
This—this is a true Uchiha loyalist.
As for the Senju—
They're heretics!
They should all be burned to the ground!