Iwagakure was so lively now that it felt like it could shake the moon right out of the sky.
The widest avenue through the village center had been covered with a crimson carpet stretching several kilometers.
The carpet bore plenty of muddy footprints tracked over from the training grounds, along with several puddles of wine that had yet to dry. It looked a little filthy.
But nobody cared.
Tens of thousands of Stone Village shinobi, from elite Anbu members to snot-nosed kids who had just entered the academy, crowded along both sides.
Their voices were stretched to the limit like broken gongs as they shouted with all their might.
"Lord Yoru!"
"Long live the Tsuchikage!"
"Our Iwagakure has finally become number one in the Shinobi World!"
Yoru stood atop a specially made golden platform, lazily yawning.
The black cloak with red clouds on it fluttered wildly in the wind.
A soy sauce stain had gotten onto his cuff during the victory feast earlier. He casually tugged at the sleeve, trying to hide the smudge.
Beside him, old Ōnoki wore a brand-new Tsuchikage hat that had not even had time to gather dust.
He grinned so broadly that his eyes vanished, the wrinkles on his face piled up like layers of old mountains.
"Yoru, tell me, how should we reward these little brats who earned merit today?"
Ōnoki pulled out a filthy little ledger, licked his fingertip, and rapidly scribbled across its yellowed pages.
The old man was usually stingy as an iron rooster, yet this time, he had actually emptied out all the precious mineral scrolls he had been saving at the bottom of his stash.
With one word, he was offering up half the village's assets.
To curry favor with this newly risen overlord, Ōnoki was truly willing to