There wasn't a single window in Amegakure's council chamber.
Hanzō had never liked sunlight.
Anywhere sunlight could enter, Konoha's spies could infiltrate as well.
"My lord! Those bastards from Konoha are disgusting! They're clearly trying to bleed us dry!"
The head of Amegakure's Intelligence Division slammed a stack of casualty reports onto the table.
The papers scattered with a rustle, their densely packed red figures so glaring they made everyone's hearts tighten.
"We've lost another two positions on the front!"
"The Sannin take turns attacking, and their logistical support is incredibly strong."
"And us? Our wounded are carried back with no medicine to treat them. Whether they survive is down to luck, and if they die, they die for nothing!"
"And those allies from the smaller countries? Not one of them can be trusted!"
The finance officer opened his ledger, jabbing a finger at the glaring deficit column, helplessness written across his face.
"Kusagakure, Takigakure, Hoshigakure-they all agreed to stand together against Konoha. Now they're all pleading poverty and refusing to lift a finger."
"Fuck, not one of those bastards has any loyalty!"
Someone muttered a curse.
Not a single person in the vast council chamber disagreed.
When everyone was passing the blame, no one dared say anything that might undermine their solidarity.
One after another, the advisers laid out the full extent of the mess they faced.
Ultimately, every crisis came down to three things.
First, the Land of Rain's shinobi were far inferior to Konoha's overall. They couldn't compete on the open battlefield and could only throw lives into the fighting, losing more with every battle.
Second, their supposed allies were all opportunists. Before the war, they had promised the world; the moment things turned against them, they changed sides and fled.
Third, logistics on the home front