Chapter 203: The Hokage Version of Chancellor Cao’s War

Land of Grass, Wan City.

After a midsummer rain, the streets of Wan City were like the aftermath of Chancellor Cao's hasty escape from Lady Zou's chambers, starting slow but escalating rapidly. Flames erupted on all sides, forcing a panicked retreat, leaving behind muddy trenches filled with water and damp remnants of passion.

But even this moisture quickly dried up as the temperature continued to rise.

Outside the city gates, under the scorching sun, a group of officials stretched their necks and stood on tiptoe, sweating profusely as they waited anxiously. Among them was even the Daimyō of the Land of Grass himself.

It was unclear how long they had been waiting when a sudden report came from ahead. At last, the person they had been longing for had arrived. The officials hurriedly adjusted their attire, putting on expressions of respectful anticipation.

Soon, a grand palanquin carried by eight men appeared in their sight. Surrounding it was a large group of guards, signaling the high status of the person inside.

The Daimyō of the Land of Grass led his officials forward to welcome the guest.

The person inside the palanquin lifted the curtain, revealing a middle-aged man with a large belly who stepped down from the carriage.

With a flattering smile, the Daimyō of the Land of Grass wasted no time in showering the man with compliments, even going so far as to compare his visit to a long-awaited rain after a drought—completely disregarding his own position as the ruler of a nation.

But this was simply the reality of the times. Small countries had no dignity, especially when caught between great powers.

Being used as a pawn was one thing, but being reduced to a mere chessboard was far worse. The unfortunate geographical position of the Land of Grass made it a natural battleground, slightly better than its neighbor, the Land of Rain—but only just. After all, the Land of Rain had the legendary Hanzo the Salamander as a deterrent.

Here, however, they had nothing but a bunch of third-rate ninjas, relying on theft and scavenging to learn jutsu—an embarrassment to even speak of.

Thus, the Daimyō of the Land of Grass spent a fortune every year trying to curry favor with the Land of Fire, hoping to avoid becoming collateral damage in the wars of the great nations.

One such diplomatic tactic was to invite the Daimyō of the Land of Fire for an all-expenses-paid visit.

After some brief pleasantries, the Daimyō of the Land of Fire lazily returned to his palanquin and, surrounded by the officials of the Land of Grass, proceeded toward the Daimyō's residence. As they passed through the streets, the loud beat of gongs announced their arrival, prompting the common folk to step aside in reverence.

Before long, the Daimyō of the Land of Fire was seated at a grand banquet prepared with meticulous care.

Inside the hall, lanterns glowed brightly, and elegant music filled the air. Everything had been arranged in anticipation of the honored guest's arrival.

Once everyone was seated, the Daimyō of the Land of Grass clapped his hands, signaling for servants to bring in lavish dishes on ornate trays. Then, singers and dancers took the stage, their voices melodious, their movements enchanting.

The Daimyō of the Land of Fire stifled a yawn. The same old routine. It was starting to bore him. He even considered cutting the trip short and returning home early.

Just then, a striking figure caught his eye.

She was stunning—sensual, alluring, with luscious red lips and flowing green hair as vibrant as fresh grass.

Before long, the woman approached him of her own accord.

The Daimyō of the Land of Fire smirked to himself. Impressive. The Daimyō of the Land of Grass is even offering such a beauty to me? All those years of supporting his country have clearly paid off.

The woman greeted him politely, and through introductions, he learned that she was none other than the wife of the Daimyō of the Land of Grass.

The Daimyō of the Land of Fire was momentarily stunned.

A married woman?

Now that's… exquisite.

It just so happened that this was his particular weakness, and the woman had completely captivated him.

After the banquet, the Daimyō of the Land of Fire retired to the best room in the Daimyō's residence. There, he summoned his servant, muttered a few cryptic instructions, and watched as the man scurried off. When the servant returned, he was accompanied by none other than the wife of the Daimyō of the Land of Grass.

Seeing her, the Daimyō of the Land of Fire grinned and repeatedly muttered, "Excellent… excellent."

His hungry gaze made it clear what he wanted.

The woman hesitated, seemingly surprised by the audacity of the Daimyō of the Land of Fire. But given his status, she dared not refuse outright.

He licked his lips. "Do you know why I called you here?"

She shook her head, pretending not to understand.

He slowly stepped closer and took her hand.

She flinched slightly, astonished by his boldness. She had never imagined the Daimyō of the Land of Fire would be so brazen. But considering his rank, she knew better than to overreact.

The more she hesitated, the more he enjoyed the game. With an eager glint in his eye, he got straight to the point.

"I was captivated the moment I saw you today," he said. "Would you care to accompany me tonight?"

Her eyes widened. She hadn't expected him to be so shameless.

She bit her lip, her expression conflicted.

But don't misunderstand—it wasn't out of loyalty to her husband. If she had the chance to become the consort of the Daimyō of the Land of Fire, why would she settle for being just the wife of the Daimyō of the Land of Grass?

As a seasoned trader of high-value commodities, she knew exactly how to drive up the price.

They say the harder something is to obtain, the more valuable it becomes.

The Daimyō of the Land of Fire, ever the lustful old man, became even more excited by her reluctance. When persuasion failed, he turned to coercion.

"My lady," he whispered, "you wouldn't want your country to suffer from war, would you?"

With those words, the wife of the Daimyō of the Land of Grass suddenly found a justification for her actions. She sighed dramatically, pretending to be deeply troubled.

"But if I stay here too long," she murmured, "my lord might notice. It could cause a scandal…"

The Daimyō of the Land of Fire waved a hand dismissively. "No worries. Come with me to my residence."

She looked away, feigning reluctance but speaking softly, "To serve the Daimyō of the Land of Fire… it would be my greatest honor."

Not long after, news reached the Daimyō of the Land of Grass.

A servant reported, "My lord, the Daimyō of the Land of Fire has left."

The Daimyō of the Land of Grass frowned. "He left so soon? Was my hospitality lacking?"

The servant hesitated, debating whether to reveal the truth.

Sensing something was amiss, the Daimyō pressed, "Speak."

The servant took a deep breath and said hesitantly, "Well… before leaving, the Daimyō of the Land of Fire also took the lady with him."

The Daimyō of the Land of Grass was stunned. His mind struggled to process the words.

"…What?"

The servant continued cautiously, "His Excellency said he was grateful for your invitation and wanted to return the favor by inviting you and your wife to the Land of Fire. Since he couldn't find you at the time, he took the lady first and hoped you wouldn't mind."

The Daimyō's face twisted in disbelief. "He couldn't find me? How is that possible?"

The servant hesitated again.

"Speak!" the Daimyō barked.

"Well… um…"

The servant stammered, unable to get the words out. But as the Daimyō pieced everything together, his face flushed red with rage.

Like his country, his head had been turned a brilliant shade of green.

"OUTRAGEOUS!"

With a roar, he unsheathed his sword, his eyes bloodshot with fury.

A close advisor clung to his leg, desperately pleading, "My lord, please, remain calm! A small mistake could lead to disaster!"

The Daimyō seethed. "Calm?! Would you be calm if it were your wife?!"

The advisor was silent for a long moment before mumbling, "My lord… I don't have a wife."

"…"

This sentence was like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing the flames of anger burning within the Daimyō of the Land of Grass. He collapsed to his knees, humiliation welling up in his eyes as tears streamed down his face. "Must small nations always be oppressed before great powers?"

His tears were not for his wife—he didn't love her that much. What truly made him weep was the crushing reality of being a Daimyō, forced to survive in the shadows of mighty nations, constantly on edge. It was suffocating.

His close advisor pondered for a moment, his expression solemn as he said in a deep voice, "Your Highness, I have a plan. A way to restore the dignity of the Land of Grass."

The Daimyō wiped away his tears of humiliation and raised his head. "What plan?"

The advisor glanced around, his eyes showing hesitation, indicating the matter was sensitive.

Understanding the gravity of the situation, the Daimyō waved his hand, dismissing the servants, leaving only the two of them in the room.

Once they were alone, the advisor finally spoke: "War."

The Daimyō's eyes widened in shock, his face filled with fear. "The military strength of the Land of Fire surpasses ours by hundreds—no, thousands—of times. If the Land of Grass recklessly declares war, it would be like a mantis trying to stop a chariot. We'd be marching to our own destruction."

His earlier outburst had been mere words spoken in anger. How could his advisor take it seriously? Asking him to go to war against the Land of Fire was nothing short of suicide.

The advisor explained, "If we were to fight alone, then yes, it would be certain death. But what if we joined forces with other nations?"

"Other nations?"

"Exactly. We are not the only small country caught between major powers. There are others like the Land of Birds, the Land of Waterfalls, and the Land of Rain. In particular, the Land of Rain is in an even worse geographical position than us. However, their leader, Hanzō of the Salamander, wields power that rivals the great nations. And he is an ambitious man. If we unite the smaller nations together, then perhaps we could stand a chance against the Land of Fire."

The Daimyō still hesitated. "The Land of Fire is deeply rooted and powerful. Even if we ally with other small countries, we cannot be certain of victory. Besides, uniting the nations is one challenge, but even if we do, maintaining a strong alliance is another."

The advisor nodded in agreement. "That's why we need an even stronger ally."

"A stronger ally? Who?"

"The Land of Wind."

"The Land of Wind?"

"Yes."

"Why would they help us fight the Land of Fire?"

"Because of resources."

"Resources?"

"The Land of Wind may be vast, but most of its territory is barren desert, unsuitable for agriculture. They have long suffered from a shortage of food and water. Since the founding of their nation, they have coveted the fertile lands of the Land of Fire. If we can bring them into our alliance, the Land of Fire will no longer be invincible."

Seeing that the advisor had more to say, the Daimyō remained silent, allowing him to continue.

The advisor went on, "Even with the Land of Wind on our side, we still cannot guarantee victory. But do you recall a recent incident involving the Land of Earth and Iwagakure?"

"What incident?"

"One night, the Five-Tails suddenly went berserk, causing massive destruction in Iwagakure and resulting in many deaths."

Since the Land of Grass bordered both the Land of Fire and the Land of Earth, the Daimyō had heard rumors about this event.

"According to whispers, this may have been orchestrated by Konohagakure. Iwagakure even confronted them, using it as grounds for war. Though in the end, peace was negotiated, it's believed that Iwagakure backed down because they feared Konoha's overwhelming power and wanted to avoid further casualties."

"Your Highness, think about it. If we form an alliance with the smaller nations and the Land of Wind to attack Konoha, do you think Iwagakure would let such an opportunity slip away? And once they join in, what do you think the other great nations would do? They wouldn't want to miss out on dividing the spoils."

"If everything goes according to plan, we may even completely destroy the Land of Fire. And once that happens, the remaining great nations—Wind, Earth, Lightning, and Water—will inevitably turn on each other, fighting over the rich lands left behind."

"At that point, all we have to do is sit back and watch the tigers fight. Riding the wave of chaos, the Land of Grass might just rise to become a great power itself."

Hearing this analysis, the Daimyō's expression changed. He was clearly tempted, especially by the prospect of national glory. His breath grew heavy, but he forced himself to suppress his desires with the last shreds of reason. "This is a major decision. Let me think it over carefully. If we fail, the Land of Grass will be utterly destroyed."

Just as he finished speaking, an unfamiliar voice suddenly echoed through the room.

"No need to think. I'll make the decision for you."

The Daimyō stiffened, turning around in alarm. Unbeknownst to him, a masked man had appeared in the room.

His face drained of color as he instinctively tried to call for his guards, but no sound escaped his lips.

The masked man—Uchiha Madara—walked past him without care, stopping before the kneeling advisor.

He looked down and said, "You will guide him from here."

The advisor gazed at Madara with deep reverence. "As you command."

Madara nodded in acknowledgment before vanishing like the wind, leaving no trace behind.

If everything went smoothly, the war would break out soon. Konoha would be forced to deploy large numbers of shinobi, and there was a high probability that Tōshirō would be sent to the battlefield. That would be the perfect opportunity to implant the Five-Tails within him.

Additionally, Konoha's defenses would be weakened, making it the ideal time to unleash a tailed beast attack, replicating the destruction that befell Iwagakure.

Before leaving, Madara cast a subtle genjutsu of psychological suggestion, reinforcing the Daimyō's inclination towards war. The technique's effectiveness and duration depended on the target's strength and level of desire.

In other words, the weaker the target and the stronger their desires, the more effective the genjutsu.

Both the Daimyō of the Land of Fire and now the Daimyō of the Land of Grass had unknowingly fallen under Madara's silent influence.

Even after the genjutsu wore off, they would never suspect they had been manipulated—because they would believe the decision was entirely their own.

With his powerful dōjutsu, Madara could even delay the activation of the genjutsu until a specific trigger was met.

For example, he had used the same technique on Tōshirō, setting the condition that it would only take effect upon personally witnessing Tsunade's death and awakening the Mangekyō Sharingan.

After a while, the Daimyō of the Land of Grass regained his composure, rubbing his temples.

The advisor called out, "Your Highness…"

"Yes… Where were we?" the Daimyō muttered, his tone as if he had never seen Uchiha Madara at all.

The advisor repeated his analysis.

The Daimyō's eyes burned with ambition for the rise of the Land of Grass. "In that case, let us prepare for war against the Land of Fire. You will be in charge of this matter."

The advisor bowed deeply. "Yes, Your Highness."

(End of Chapter)

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