The Village Chief's First Step to the Throne

This sentence was lighter than any that had come before, yet it weighed heavier than them all.

It struck like an invisible, heavy hammer, slamming into the hearts of every survivor in the canyon.

The victor, who had just crawled out of the bloody slaughter, felt the ecstasy and obsequiousness on his face freeze instantly, replaced by a sense of extreme, absurd bewilderment.

Kill him?

From this day forward, you are the God of Amegakure.

These two sentences echoed and collided in his mind, finally exploding into a mush he could not comprehend.

Why?

Why?

I clearly won! I followed your rules, killed everyone, stepped over the corpses of my comrades, and brought you this old man's head!

Why am I the one who has to die in the end?!

"No..."

His lips trembled, a wheezing roar escaped his throat, and his entire body shook violently from the massive emotional shock.

"Madara... Lord Madara... you... you cannot do this... you said..."

Lin Feng could not even be bothered to glance at him again; the massive war fan remained pressed against the man's neck as casually as if it were merely resting on a piece of furniture.

His gaze remained fixed on Nagato from start to finish, as if waiting for a student to submit an answer he had long anticipated.

"Nagato! Don't!"

Yahiko finally snapped out of the successive shocks. He shoved Konan aside, rushed over with bloodshot eyes, and blocked the space between Nagato and the victor.

"Have you gone mad?! He is also a ninja of Amegakure! He was just... he was just deceived by this bastard!"

Yahiko pointed at Lin Feng, his voice hoarse with rage.

"Isn't the whole reason we founded Akatsuki to prevent tragedies like this?! And now you want to create a new tragedy with your own hands?!"

"Look at him! Then look at the corpses all around! How is this any different from Hanzo or Danzo!"

His questioning, desperate and shrill, echoed through the empty canyon.

However, Nagato did not respond.

He simply watched the dear friend standing before him—the one with orange hair and a heart still burning with the flames of idealism.

Once upon a time, those flames had been his own guiding light.

But now, he only found them somewhat blinding.

"Different?"

It was Lin Feng who spoke.

He hoisted the war fan onto his shoulder, stepped away from the victor who had collapsed to the ground, and walked slowly toward Yahiko, looking down at him from a position of superiority.

"The difference is that they did these things to satisfy their own filthy ambitions."

Lin Feng tapped Nagato lightly with the handle of his fan.

"While he does it to create a world of absolute peace, where there will never again be betrayal or deception."

"Do you understand, you naive brat?"

"You!" Yahiko trembled with rage. "Peace bought with slaughter is not peace! That is tyranny!"

"Oh?" Lin Feng let out a soft chuckle, as if he had heard something amusing. "Then tell me, what is peace?"

"Is it like you did before—naively believing in the promise of a butcher, trusting that he would mercifully accept you as unstable elements that threatened his rule, only to lead your comrades into a trap and nearly be wiped out in one go?"

"Or perhaps your so-called peace is simply kneeling on the ground, begging the enemy to show mercy?"

"Begging others to follow your logic and cooperate with you to achieve a world of mutual understanding and mutual recognition!"

"It seems that Jiraiya fellow has ruined you all beyond repair!"

Every word from Lin Feng was like a poisoned blade, stabbing precisely into Yahiko's most painful spot.

Yahiko's face flushed bright red instantly; he opened his mouth, but could not find a single word to refute him.

It was true—if this man had not appeared, they would already be cold corpses.

His own ideals were fragile and shattered in the face of absolute violence and conspiracy.

Was Master Jiraiya's teaching truly correct?

Was a world of mutual understanding and tolerance impossible to achieve?

Yahiko's heart was in constant torment.

"Yahiko."

Nagato finally spoke, his voice calm—so calm it felt alien.

"Move aside."

"Nagato..." Yahiko turned back to look at him, unable to believe his ears.

"I will say this one more time: move aside," Nagato repeated, his Rinnegan devoid of any emotional fluctuation.

He bypassed the stunned Yahiko, walking step by step toward the now utterly desperate victor.

The victor collapsed on the ground, staring at Nagato's eerie purple eyes. His body trembled like a leaf, and a foul-smelling liquid began to seep from his crotch.

"No... don't kill me... I beg you... I was forced into this..."

He pleaded incoherently, bracing his hands against the ground as he scrambled backward in a desperate frenzy.

Nagato ignored his entreaties.

He stopped in his tracks and slowly raised his right hand.

"Wait!"

Yahiko roared again, lunging forward in an attempt to stop him.

But this time, a hand reached out from the side, gripping his arm with a death-like hold.

It was Konan.

"Konan! Let me go!" Yahiko struggled wildly.

Konan did not speak; she simply used every ounce of her strength to hold him back, shaking her head at him with great force.

Her face was covered in tears, her eyes filled with pain and inner conflict, yet her actions remained exceptionally resolute.

She knew that there was no going back.

From the moment Hanzo held a kunai to Yahiko's throat, from the moment Nagato exhausted himself using the Rinnegan to save them, some things had been changed forever.

Stopping him would only force the three of them into total opposition against this man who called himself Madara.

No one could bear the consequences of that.

Amidst Yahiko's desperate roar and heart-wrenching gaze, Nagato's hand pressed gently onto the top of the victor's head.

There was no earth-shattering roar.

There was no world-destroying repulsive force.

The victor's body simply stiffened violently, then began to convulse, his eyes bulging and his mouth hanging wide open, yet he could not emit a single sound.

A faint, nearly transparent phantom was forcibly ripped out from the crown of his head by Nagato!

Human Path: Soul Extraction!

The phantom twisted and struggled in Nagato's hand, eventually dissolving into specks of light that vanished into the air.

The victor's body went limp, losing all signs of life, and he collapsed to the ground like a skin bag stripped of all its bones.

He was dead.

He died silently, and he died with eerie unnaturalness.

The canyon fell into absolute silence once more.

Yahiko stopped struggling. He stared blankly at the corpse, then at the expressionless Nagato, before finally collapsing to his knees, clutching his head in his hands and letting out a painful whimper.

His ideal was dead.

Killed by the very hand of his most trusted friend.

Lin Feng watched this scene with satisfaction.

Very good.

That's more like it.

This is what Pain should be.

Cold, ruthless, treating life as mere blades of grass—let the world feel pain!

"Very good."

Lin Feng walked over to Nagato and patted him on the shoulder.

"This is the first step you have taken as a 'god'."

"From today on, Amegakure will have only one voice, one will: yours."

He turned around to face the dozen or so surviving Amegakure ninja on the other side of the canyon, who were already scared out of their wits.

"Did you all see that?"

Lin Feng's voice echoed throughout the entire canyon.

The Amegakure ninja shuddered, falling to their knees one after another and burying their heads deep into the mud, not daring to even breathe loudly.

"From today on, he," Lin Feng pointed at Nagato, "is your only god."

"His words are divine decrees. Those who defy him will meet the same end as the trash on the ground."

"Now, kneel and welcome your new god!"

"Greetings... to... Lord God!"

Scattered, trembling voices filled with extreme terror rang out across the canyon.

Nagato looked down at the hand that had just claimed a life, then raised his head to gaze at the ninjas cowering and trembling at his feet.

An unprecedented sensation of total control surged into his heart.

So, this is what it feels like to be a "god"?

He slowly clenched his fist, and the last trace of hesitation in those Rinnegan eyes was replaced by an ambition known as "dominion."

Lin Feng took it all in, feeling a secret thrill.

A-rank roleplay mission, complete!

Next, it was time for the cleanup.

He turned his head, casting his gaze toward the massive sphere of rock and corpses hovering in the air not far away.

And toward Shimura Danzo, who lay beneath the sphere, clutching a bloody hole in his chest and gasping his final breaths.

"Alright, Nagato."

Lin Feng's voice rang out once more, interrupting the eerie coronation ceremony of Amegakure's new god.

"The welcome ceremony ends here."

"Now, it's time to take out the trash."

Shouldering his gunbai, he walked step by step toward the massive Devastating Planetary Destruction.

Nagato, Konan, Yahiko—everyone's eyes followed his movements.

They all wanted to see how this man would dispose of Shimura Danzo and the Root ninjas sealed within.

Lin Feng arrived beneath the Devastating Planetary Destruction.

He looked up at the giant rock sphere, which spanned over twenty meters in diameter, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

Then, in front of everyone, he slowly raised his right hand.

"Well then..."

"Let's make these fireworks a little more spectacular."

He aimed his hand at the rock sphere and slammed his fingers shut!

"Detonate!"