Dark clouds hung over the deep-red earth. Raindrops the size of soybeans fell from the gray-black sky, blotting out the sun, and gathered on the ground into a ceaseless torrent.
Amegakure, the Castle Tower.
Hanzo of the Salamander slowly stepped out of the Daimyo's residence.
A Rain ninja hurried over to Hanzo.
Though he tried hard to keep his emotions in check, his brows were tightly furrowed, and the indignation on his face was impossible to hide.
"Lord Hanzo, Sunagakure..."
Shinda clenched his fists and lowered his head. The anger in his chest made it impossible for him to say the rest.
Hanzo's expression was calm. He raised a hand and patted Shinda on the shoulder. "Calm down. I know."
"Pay it no mind."
"As a ninja, you mustn't let your heart become unsettled."
Rain pattered against Hanzo, sliding off the rain cape draped over him.
He stopped and looked up at the gloomy sky, raising a hand and spreading his fingers.
"That man is one of the Five Kage, who stand at the very top of the Shinobi World. It's only natural for him to look down on the ninja villages of small countries like ours."
Hanzo's tone was even, without the slightest trace of emotion, as though he hadn't taken the matter to heart at all.
Not long ago, several clashes had broken out along the border between Sunagakure and Amegakure.
If his subordinates hadn't been so furious, Hanzo would never have sent Shinda to visit the Third Kazekage with a letter of apology.
"He's just a mere Kazekage. You, Lord Hanzo, are the Demigod acknowledged by the entire Shinobi World."
"Since Hashirama, the God of Shinobi, you're the only ninja ever called a god!"
Shinda gazed at the broad back of the man before him. He had personally followed this lord from the start, when Hanzo had begun with nothing but a dilapidated town in the Land of Rain and his own strength.
In just a few short years, Hanzo had swept through every local power in the Land of Rain, as well as the ninja of other countries, with overwhelming force.
The Daimyo of the Land of Rain had treated him as an honored guest. He founded Amegakure and brought the entire Land of Rain under his control.
It was his strength, combined with those achievements, that had earned him the title of Demigod from the Daimyo of the Land of Rain.
Even the hammer-and-sickle ninja tools he carried had taken years to forge. The Daimyo had spent a fortune commissioning master craftsmen from Takumi Village.
Tenbuho-rin—those were the names of the hammer and sickle.
No one had bestowed his achievements upon him. Hanzo had earned them himself, with his own hands, one battle at a time!
At Shinda's words, Hanzo's eyes narrowed slightly. For an instant, a terrifying killing intent flashed through them, leaving Shinda frozen stiff. Then Shinda's face lit up with fervor.
"Heh. Demigod? It's nothing but an empty title."
Everyone thought "Demigod" was a compliment, a term of praise for Hanzo.
But in his heart, he knew the truth. It was a way for the Daimyo of the Great Nations to look down on him and mock him!
Nearly ten years ago, after he and the Daimyo had joined forces to unify the Land of Rain and establish Amegakure, they had privately met with the Daimyo of the Great Nations in the Land of Iron.
Hanzo had wanted to declare himself Ameshadow, but that group of Daimyo had made things difficult for him.
They said he would have to defeat Mifune, the strongest samurai in the Land of Iron, or else he had no right to declare himself a Kage.
He had accepted without hesitation, staking his life on the contest.
But even after he won, those five went back on their word. They not only refused to honor their promise, but also mocked him and the Daimyo of the Land of Rain.
They called them frogs in a well, deluded fools who wanted the impossible.
After a final round of scorn, they saddled Hanzo with the title of Demigod.
At the sound of that title, the painful, infuriating scene from long ago seemed to flash before Hanzo's eyes again.
Those five ugly faces seemed to be right in front of him.
In an instant, Hanzo's raised right hand clenched into a fist, gripping his hammer and sickle tightly.
He ran his hand over the inscription on them.
[Tenbuho-rin]
Pulling himself from his memories, he walked forward through the rain.
"Shinda, tell the ninjas at the border that no matter how serious the clashes get, as long as Sunagakure hasn't sent a large force into the Land of Rain, they don't need to report it. They should simply fall back."
"Lord Hanzo, this..." Shinda clenched his fists. His jaw trembled, and his eyes grew unfocused.
He could hardly believe those words had come from the Demigod Hanzo he followed.
Hanzo glanced back and met Shinda's eyes. "Now isn't the time."
"I'll make those so-called great nations see what Amegakure is capable of—and feel the fury of our tiny country."
With that, Hanzo continued on his way.
"This rain isn't heavy enough yet. I'll make them feel what it's like when the rain flows like a river."
Hearing this, Shinda stood rooted to the spot, delight spreading across his face.
He knew it. Lord Hanzo hadn't changed at all.
He had even doubted his lord just now. How despicable of him.
Lord Hanzo must have said those things because he trusted him. He couldn't tell anyone else yet, so they would have to endure a little longer.
"Yes! I'll send word to the border at once!"
Shinda's figure quickly disappeared into the distance.
At the same time, an uninvited guest who did not belong here stepped into Amegakure, wearing the same gray-black rain cape as everyone else.
It was Qingguang.
He found an unremarkable tavern and slipped inside.
Taking off his hood, he hung his rain cape on the wall and walked straight to the bar.
He casually ordered a drink and a simple meal, then sat alone at a table and ate by himself.
All the while, his ears were perked up, listening to the conversations at the surrounding tables.
The grand, luxurious taverns catered to nobles and the Daimyo. Only plain places like this were affordable for ninjas and the local villagers.
He focused his attention on the ninjas beside him, who wore Amegakure's gray-purple vests and Forehead Protectors.
Only after those few Amegakure ninjas had left and another incense stick's worth of time had passed did Qingguang finish his drink. He went to the door, put on his rain cape, and left.
Afterward, he mingled with the crowd, disguised himself as a local in an alley, wandered among the neighborhood's vendors, and chatted with a few of them.
Once night had fully fallen, he found an inn and settled in.
Now, he organized all the information he had gathered that day and recorded it on a scroll.
"Those Amegakure ninjas I overheard during the day mentioned Sunagakure. They sounded unusually furious. It's probably because of what the allies I'm supposed to meet up with did."
"But Amegakure hasn't made the slightest move to retaliate. They're like soft persimmons, letting anyone bully them."
Qingguang silently mulled it over as he wrote everything down.
He knew that Hanzo would declare war on all five of the Shinobi World's great nations at once, but he obviously couldn't tell Hiruzen Sarutobi that.
It was simply too unbelievable, too absurd.
All he needed to do was write down what he had seen and heard in Amegakure, organized after careful thought.
The rest wasn't his concern.
Qingguang knew Hiruzen Sarutobi's character very well. If he offered opinions and conclusions directly, wouldn't that mean he was sharing his own ideas?
Lord Hokage didn't like listening to advice. He preferred to act according to his own logic.
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