Last day in Konoha

After I made my bold declaration in the meeting hall, I rose from my seat and left, leaving behind a room filled with an uncomfortable silence. The weight of my words hung heavily in the air, and it was clear that I had introduced a harsh reality they had failed to see—the fragility of the peace they had achieved.

As I strolled away from the meeting hall, the echoes of discord continued to reverberate through Konohagakure's leaders. The realization that both Madara and Hashirama were the linchpins of this newfound peace had struck them like a lightning bolt.

If either of them were to depart from this world, whether through death or the passage of time, the peace they had fought for would crumble. This surely will pressure them to produce more worthy shinobi, fufufu, I can't wait!

Back in the meeting hall, the silence felt suffocating. The patriarchs and leaders of the clans exchanged uneasy glances as they grappled with the implications of my words.

It was as though I had unveiled a harsh truth they had been unwilling to confront. Maybe they were aware of it, maybe they were not.

In that moment of silence, Madara abruptly stood up, his voice filled with determination.

"I'll rally the troops!"

Hashirama, ever the idealistic peace-lover, responded in kind.

"Madara! We can't do that! We have only recently achieved our long-cherished ambition of peace for our clans and the world. I cannot stand idly by and let you shatter this hard-earned peace."

Madara countered, his resolve unwavering.

"Then what do you propose, Hashirama? Shall we simply sit by and allow the shinobi of other villages to recover and bolster their forces?

I suggest we venture into their lands and crush them!"

Hashirama, stubborn in his belief in a different path to peace, retorted.

"No, we can achieve peace in other ways! Yujiro is merely trying to unsettle us.

I refuse to believe that we cannot produce geniuses and prodigies who can rival us in strength!"

Tobirama, known for his analytical mind, chimed in.

"Madara does have a point. We must be prepared for the worst-case scenario.

Our clans have the potential to produce powerful shinobi, but we cannot solely rely on that."

Izuna, who had been relatively quiet until now, finally spoke up.

"Our clans, the Senju and the Uchiha, have joined forces to ensure the village's stability. We may have our differences, but we share the goal of protecting our home. We need to make a decision!"

"Even your brother agrees with me, Hashirama!"

Tobirama asked a million dollar question.

"I said you have a point, if we want to decimate these villages, we can't solely rely on both of you! What if they attack our village when we're not around?" 

"Then, what do you guys propose!? Don't talk nonsense if you don't have any idea!"

Hashirama joined the conversation.

"What if we strengthen our village, so then, we'll incur less lost in manpower? We can't raise a war right now. Madara!

There's also that bet with Yujiro! Aha, do you want to lose to him?"

"Don't change the topic, Hashirama! But you're quite right...I can't lose to that muscle freak of nature.

Let's talk about on how we want to strengthen the village. A strong army of shinobis is a must, no?"

All of them agreed to Madara's statement. They knew that strength was needed if you wanted be safe in this world. 

Izuna added in his view on this matter.

"Although, I believe with our training regime, we can keep producing more great general. But to keep our women and children safe, that's not enough.

It's impossible to say that our village will keep producing strong shinobi at my brother's and Hashirama's level."

Tobirama also gave his opinion.

"We also need financial stability to sustain our village's demand, there's food, houses and all sort of things that need money. Although, we can steal but that will make merchants all over the world avoid our village.

This in long run will slowly kill our descendants!" 

"Aha, that's also why we can't go to war! Umu, umu." Hashirama added while nodding sagely.

Tobirama and Izuna were speechless at this guy antic, '''Sigh...'''

"Shut up, Hashirama! Don't say like you're thinking of that all this while, hmph!

Anyway, we can try to open some businesses, it'll take a long time to grow them. We need to make a proper plan for all of this." 

Then, the Nara Clan's patriarch offered himself to design the business plan. Nara Shikamo was known for his superb intellect, thus, all patriarchs agreed and chose him as the leader of this project.

The debate continued, growing more intense with each passing moment. There're many things that they needed to look into and make plans based on that.

While all that drama was brewing in the meeting hall, Hanma Yujiro was taking a leisurely stroll through the village. After the bomb he dropped in there, it was like he didn't even remember anything he said.

.

.

.

Strolling through Konohagakure as if it were my own village, I couldn't help but ponder my future. Or, to be more precise, my future kingdom.

I understood that the daimyo ruled the lands, so to make my path easier, I needed to arrange a meeting with the daimyo or daimyos. But before that, I had to determine which land would be the best for my kingdom.

Perhaps I'll start with the Land of Tea, or perhaps even the Land of Whirlpools. The latter was home to the Uzumaki clan, they seemed to be brimming with untapped potential.

But before embarking on such a journey, a little shopping was in order. Iroh had provided me with some funds, and it was only fitting to spend them wisely.

I purchased necessities such as clothing, a bag, and other essentials for my travels. It's cheap enough and I still got some money left.

While wandering the bustling streets, I spotted a blacksmith shop that piqued my interest. The prospect of acquiring some formidable weapons appealed to me, as I believed they could be quite entertaining to wield in battles that lay ahead.

As I entered the shop, I couldn't help but appreciate the craftsmanship on display. An old blacksmith, he seemed to be a skilled artisan, greeted me with a nod.

"Welcome, traveler. How may I assist you today?"

I perused the selection of weapons, my eyes scanning over various blades, from finely crafted swords to exotic and deadly-looking tools. My fingers traced the edges of a particularly long glaive, its blade glistening with an almost otherworldly sheen and it looked like it was made of with a very heavy materials.

"This is a fine piece of work," I remarked, lifting the glaive from its stand to get a feel for its weight and balance. The blacksmith smiled, clearly pleased by my appreciation for his collections.

"Ah, that one is a special one, forged from the finest materials and still waiting for its wielder to come for it. It has a history of its own, but it's said to bring misfortune to its wielder.

Hey, want to hear the tale that's been passed down about this glaive?"

"Sure, why not? Tell me the backstory for this glaive."

Then, the old man sat on a wooden chair, while reaching his pipe. He offered me one of his pipe and I accepted it.

"So...once upon a time, in a long-forgotten kingdom known as the Kingdom of Desolation, there lived a power-hungry king named Masashi . King Masashi desired dominion above all else and turned to a wicked sorcerer named Mikio  for help.

In exchange for unimaginable power, Mikio  crafted a sinister glaive. This glaive  wasn't your ordinary blade.

It exuded an eerie darkness and was made from materials rumored to be from the abyss itself. King Masashi , armed with this unholy weapon, began his ruthless conquest.

But as he expanded his empire, a terrible curse began to haunt him. Misfortunes and tragedies befell King Masashi  .

His queen fell deathly ill, his advisors turned against him, and his lands suffered famine and disease. Whispers of rebellion grew louder.

Desperate to rid himself of the cursed glaive, King Masashi  tried to part with it, but the glaive  clung to him like a vengeful spirit.

In his darkest hour, with his kingdom in ruins, King Masashi  succumbed to the curse. The glaive  consumed his soul, turning him into a tormented wraith forever bound to the weapon.

The cursed glaive  vanished for centuries, only reappearing sporadically to bring misery to its wielders. It serves as a haunting reminder of the dark deeds of King Masashi and the malevolent sorcerer Mikio  .

To this day, the glaive  remains a dreaded relic, searching for a new unfortunate master to ensnare in its web of tragedy and despair."

As the blacksmith shared the glaive's lore, I couldn't help but be drawn to it. Misfortune was irrelevant to me, but the idea of possessing a weapon with a unique history intrigued me.

I nodded in agreement and decided to make the glaive my own. With the purchase completed, I attached the glaive  to my back, its weight familiar and comforting.

It would serve as a companion on my journey, hm, but it needs a name. Then, I asked the old blacksmith if the glaive  had a name.

"Old man, does it have a name? If it doesn't have one, I want to name it."

The old blacksmith seemed annoyed but he still replied.

"Nah, the glaive  hasn't officially picked one yet. You can go ahead and choose whatever you want, kiddo..."

I smirked and eventually settled on a name. It'll be not a fancy name, as I'm not a big fan of naming things.

But hey, who knows, maybe giving it a name will bring about some unexpected changes. Just for the sake of it, I flared up my chakra and gave it the name I want.

"Due to your history bringing misfortune and kill your previous wielder, I'll name you, Desolate Demon Glaive !"