Dairi watched in despair as his own Daimyo made a "friendly statement" to Konoha on the stage. Of course he understood why his lord was doing this. They held the knife, and he was the meat on the chopping block. Since ancient times, only retainers had died to prove their loyalty. What ruler ever sacrificed his life for righteousness?
But what baffled him, what he simply could not understand, was how the Daimyo, far away in the Land of Earth, had ended up in the hands of Konoha ninja in an instant.
Could ninjutsu really accomplish something like this? Then what purpose did people like him even serve?
Stripped of his position on the spot and branded an impostor by the Daimyo, Councilor Dairi slumped to the ground, his heart dead with despair.
Of course he understood that Konoha was making an example of the Land of Earth to establish its authority. The tactic was hardly sophisticated. In the past, Dairi would even have believed he could rally a host of factions to resist Konoha.
But Konoha's methods defied belief. For any power with something resembling a monarchy, a technique that amounted to a direct "decapitation strike" was simply impossible to resist.
"Your Excellency, Lord Hokage, please allow this old man a word."
Just as a nearby ninja hauled Dairi up to take him away, a weary sigh rang out.
"Oh? Please speak freely, Lord Tsuchikage."
Jiraiya narrowed his eyes at the little old man emerging from the room.
Ōnoki stood stooped, a faint, rueful smile on his face. "Although this man impersonated an envoy from the Land of Earth and disrupted the conference, he is still a man of our country, and thus one of His Excellency's subjects. Forgive this old man's presumption, but I hope Lord Hokage will