Some time later.
Arthur sat behind a large oak desk in the heart of the capital of the Water Country as sunlight streamed through his windows.
As John Belfort, a lot of his time was focused on being the acting leader of one of the top countries in the ninja world.
It was one thing handling insider conspiracies about him, and it was another to try and keep his training regimen in check. Lately, however, he'd been engulfed in administrative work.
It was a reminder of the balance he had to maintain: a ninja in the shadows but a leader by necessity.
Feudal lord Hiromu was ostensibly in charge and still followed Arthur's directives with willing obedience. Yet, therein lay the paradox of Arthur's position: the constant balancing act of organization this country's nonsense.
For instance, a slip in financial management would cause a betrayal of trust from the citizens, and a hasty military decision might escalate into a civil war with the Mei Terumi.
Just a single misjudgment could lead his country into disarray.
As he rifled through the papers on his desk, he knew that there were eight things keeping the country together. Seven of those things required his utmost focus.
First was military service. This obligation loomed large. So he understood that the defense of the Water Country against outside threats showcased the strength of a competent leader.
Because of that, he had to meticulously keep an eye on the Mizukage. Not from a place of animosity, but rather as a precaution. Knowledge was the acumen of leadership; knowing when to strike and when to be still was as vital as any physical skill he possessed.
Second was land management. That had become something he deftly achieved with the assistance of his council.
Arthur relied on this council composed of dependable advisors, local lords, and skilled administrators. They governed the vast stretches of land and water under his purview. Thus working tirelessly in agriculture, livestock, and resource management.
Such management was what caused a lot of documents to cross—all of which required his scrutiny.
Arthur simply could not rely solely on others to safeguard the citizen's welfare. And to help identify or fix these problems, he had merged intuitions to always be looking out for signs that might indicate trouble brewing.
Third was protection of vassals. That was a priority that he had layered into his daily affairs.
Whether it was ensuring the safety of farmers bringing goods to the market or mitigating tensions between visiting merchants from the Land of Waves, Arthur was attentive to every shade.
For example, when there were whispers of bandit activity along the borders, he'd restrict revelry among the guards by sending out more patrols. Or when there was conflict among the judicial factions of his courts, he'd consult with judges to ensure that their sentences remained fair and tempered with compassion.
Fourth came the challenging task of financial management. Every coin collected meant nourishment for families because each tax law enforced kept his society together.
Hours were poured over ledgers and documents. All to check for errors or discrepancies that could signal corruption.
And if there's one thing he knew about corruption, it was that financial decisions were close to the core of prosperous countries like this one. Too high taxes could fracture loyalty, while too low taxes could hinder military readiness.
The risks, rewards, and care of his compatriots were not at all exuded from his calculations.
Fifth was building and maintenance. This offered hope to the frail citizens.
Renewal and construction turned towns into thriving hubs. Linked roads to the capital created fortifications to protect against nefarious intents. And lastly, buildings nurtured culture to pave a way forward for art among the citizens.
Such nurturance of creativity unified others deeper than what governance could.
Forget bricks and mortar, Arthur knew. Better to provide space for artists, musicians, and scholars to cultivate a cultural society. It also projected strength, which nearby land lords could not ignore.
As Arthur continued to sift through paperwork, the duties of justice administration reminded him that even in his absence as a judge, decisions he made affected that cultural society he was creating.
He truly couldn't afford to shake the foundation of integrity the Water Country stood upon.
Mid-thought, three knocks on the door stopped his studious pursuit.
"Enter..."
In walked his secretary, a woman of quiet resilience whose record-keeping kept Arthur informed about the political shifts of neighbouring realms. Her arrival mainly signaled information. But it was also a reminder of the broader task of diplomacy (the sixth thing) that he was working on.
"Excuse the intrusion, lord John," she calmly began. "The other lords from the neighbouring regions are requesting a meeting. They wish to discuss some kind of alliance."
"Is it out of necessity or ambition?"
"I think both, my lord."
"I see…"
Arthur leaned back to rub his chin thoughtfully. Diplomacy was always a tightrope walk. One misstep could lead to consequences that would destabilize everything.
"Send out emissaries," he replied, "but wear their intentions on our sleeves. Tell the emissaries to show willingness to discuss while staying committed to our land's well-being."
"And if they request to see you personally, my lord?"
"Then I'll go…"
"Very well," she replied with a bow. "Oh, and there's two more things."
"What's the first?"
"The secretary-general's requested a copy of your citizenship papers from the embassy."
"Oh…" Arthur voiced. His relationship with the secretary-general was not the best. And for his personal secretary to be telling him this meant that she was also cautious of this act. "Don't mind him for now."
"I understand, my lord. As for the second thing, there's talk of a marriage alliance in the southern provinces between two of the royals. I think it would strengthen our position if we accepted."
"Then explore it as you see fit," he commanded, "but ensure the two are at least in love before making any decisions."
Marriage alliance was the seventh thing Arthur was responsible for. They had been historically potent tools to help solidify relationships and build political unions.
What he also understood was that no one should marry for the sake of power alone. Hence why he demanded to know if the two parties loved one another first.
"Thank you, my lord!"
As the secretary swept out of the room, Arthur settled back into the comfortable silence of his office.
The eighth and final job he had to attend to was patronage of the arts.
Such investment affirmed the identity of the Water Country amidst so much strife, a cultural evolution that many artisans wanted support for their local crafts.
Just as he was about to review the next stack of papers, there were two knocks at the door.
"Come in," he said, knowing that it would not be his secretary.
When the man entered, Arthur recognized him immediately: a local merchant from one of the smaller towns.
For weeks now, this merchant had been expressing his concerns about his failing business, complaints that had arrived at Arthur's desk with an alarming frequency.
Arthur's initial instinct was to shield himself from the continuous grievances of the populace. After all, a governor could not fix every individual's woes.
"Grab a chair and sit," Arthur gestured, shifting his mood to one of patient understanding.
The man fidgeted with the edges of his tunic and bowed before saying, "Thank you for seeing me, my lord."
"Let's not beat around the bush... I know you've been struggling and have already read your many complaints. Your business is not prospering as you would like. So tell me, what have you done to try and change your situation?"
The man's eyes glistened with frustration as he took a seat, anguish evident in every crease that marred his expression. "I've tried everything!" he yelled. "Lowering prices, bringing in different goods, even offering discounts, but…" then he looked down. "Nothing seems to work. Customers aren't coming to my store, and my debtors are—"
"Stop," Arthur interjected. "It seems as though the issue is in your marketing."
"Marketing, my lord?"
Arthur leaned forward with a dark gaze that penetrated the man's core. "Yes, marketing. How can you operate a profitable business that sells goods when no one knows it exists?"
The man had completely forgotten that he needed constant exposure if he wanted clients.
"But, my lord, for me to do that, I have to spend more money that I don't have."
"If that's the case," Arthur calmly responded, reaching into a drawer and retrieving a small pouch filled with ryō. "Then I'll lend you one thousand ryō with no interest. Use it to reinvest into your business as a last chance to turn your situation around."
The man's eyes widened before anxiety clouded his features. He stammered, asking, "I—thank you, my lord. But I'm a little worried about taking another loan. Especially from our feudal lord. I—I mean, soon-to-be feudal lord."
"Consider it a loan with a warning. You're free to spend it on anything to help, seeing how large of a sum this is." Arthur was right in that sense. This was a lot of money for one merchant. "But if you can't produce real results in three months' time, then it just shows the marketing business was not meant for you, and I'll be forced to cease all your assets."
The man swallowed hard due to the dichotomy of happiness and fear. It was either take the loan or shut down his shop. With sweat pouring down his neck, he agreed, saying, "I… I'll do my utmost, my lord! This, I swear!"
"Why swear?"
"Huh…?"
"Tell me something, mister: do you believe in God?"
"Y… Yes, my lord."
"Then you should know what was said: that one should not swear at all. Either by heaven; for it is God's throne: nor by the earth; for it is his footstool."
The merchant was left speechless. Never before had he considered that the successor of his country he dwelt in was pious in nature.
✟
As dusk fell, the documents continued to pile high.
The merchant had signed the paper indubitably, allowing Arthur to spend the remaining time in his office alone.
He stood there, looking out over the capital from his window. The streets were still filled with laughter and chatter among the marketgoers.
Because he had chosen not to make rash economic decisions, it was why they felt secure even at this hour. All this was thanks to incremental growth. Just the tasks of reviewing paperwork to ensure presented a constructing legacy that no average person could accomplish without faith.
And while "John Belfort" had not worn the title of feudal lord, he still commanded respect.
Every paper he signed, every decision he deferred, and every alliance he fostered reflected his belief in steadfastness. It was the type of leadership not driven by the immediacy of rewards but by the profound impact of wise governance.
'Only a few more months until my lab's finished…' Arthur reminded himself. As night slowly crept into the capital, he walked towards a switch on the wall and turned off the lights. 'Flying raijin…'
One tumultuous night complete, several brighter dawns awaited.