Indeed, it wasn't that they feared Genji, but fear and stupidity were two very different things—and at a time when every single ally mattered in the race for the Mizukage's seat, picking a fight with him would've been suicidal.
That didn't stop Ryūkotsu from already writing Genji's name into the little mental notebook labeled 'People I'll Kill Once I'm Mizukage'.
He wasn't subtle about it either; the Kaguya clan had many admirable qualities, but subtlety was sure not one of them.
Genji could practically hear Ryūkotsu's thoughts clattering around like loose bones in a sack. Still, he gave no sign of it.
Experience had taught him that letting a Kaguya stew in their own bloodlust was usually punishment enough.
Besides, he was already satisfied; at the very least, these younger brutes respected strength. None of them dared look down on him openly—and in Kirigakure, that was practically a standing ovation.
"In any case," Genji continued, his voice cutting cleanly through the murmurs, "the village has received inquiries from Sunagakure, Iwagakure, and Kumogakure."
"We chose silence," Genji went on evenly. "But silence stops being useful when it starts looking like guilt for committing a crime."
A few nods followed.
"If we don't clarify the situation," he said, "those villages may assume we slaughtered their shinobi—and decide to return the favor. I propose we open the village temporarily and explain what happened. Transparency now prevents war later."
To Genji's mild surprise, everyone agreed.
Even Ryūkotsu, which meant the Kaguya clan wasn't completely brainless—just aggressively enthusiastic about violence.
"Secondly," Genji said, his tone hardening, "we must address the selection of the next Mizukage."
Now the room went quiet.
Kirigakure without a Mizukage was like a blade without a hilt—dangerous to everyone, including the one holding it.
"The village cannot function without a leader," Genji continued. "And traditionally, the Mizukage is chosen as the strongest. No one here disputes that."
"But we are not in a normal period," he said. "War is looming. Our elite forces have already taken devastating losses. The village cannot afford to lose another top-tier shinobi in a death match for succession."
Everyone understood what he meant.
Mizura had risen after killing the strongest challenger following the Second Mizukage's death. That path was paved with corpses—and those duels were no sparring matches. One clean hit was enough to end a life.
"I don't agree."
Ryūkotsu's voice was immediate, sharp, and utterly unapologetic.
No one was particularly shocked by his objection.
Whether it was because he lived for the thrill of fighting anyone stronger than himself, or because he was itching to slap the Mizukage hat onto his own head as soon as humanly possible, the man had plenty of reasons to be unhappy.
Akiko, his most obvious rival—and the only one who could meet him head-on without immediately dying—watched him closely.
She didn't miss a thing.
Ryūkotsu looked reckless, loud, and impulsive. The kind of man who solved most problems by punching them until they stopped being problems.
But Kiri had taught Akiko a long time ago that the most dangerous people were often the ones who made you underestimate them.
And that bothered her.
As much as she hated admitting it, in terms of raw combat power, Ryūkotsu had the edge. Not by much—but enough. Which was precisely why delaying the Mizukage selection benefited her far more than it benefited him.
Time was a weapon she intended to sharpen.
"This isn't a matter of whether you agree or not," she said flatly before Ryūkotsu could open his mouth again. "This is the decision that benefits Kirigakure the most."
Her eyes flicked around the chamber, calm and unyielding.
"Whether you like it or not, I support it. Elder Genji supports it. And so do most of the people here. The Mizukage election will be postponed until the situation stabilizes."
In Kirigakure, very few people actually wanted Ryūkotsu as Mizukage. Aside from the bloodthirsty lunatics who thought war was a lifestyle choice, his fan club was… limited.
Unfortunately, facts were facts; with Mizura gone, Ryūkotsu was the strongest shinobi in the village.
But Akiko already had a plan to fix that issue. All she needed was time—and Kiri was about to hand it to her on a silver platter.
Sure enough, heads began to nod around the room. One after another, they reached a silent but decisive consensus.
Ryūkotsu looked at each of them in turn, burning their faces into his memory. He didn't say anything, but somewhere deep inside, a list was growing, and it wasn't a short one.
...
...
...
Once that little 'agreement' was reached, Kirigakure wasted exactly zero seconds pretending everything was fine.
The news quickly sprinted across the Ninja World: The Mizukage was dead. That single sentence hit like a genjutsu slap to the face.
Civilians panicked, shinobi were tense, and tabs were abandoned mid-drink. Anyone who wasn't in on what had happened at Uzushiogakure suddenly realized they were missing several very important pieces of context.
Then the details started leaking out—each one worse than the last.
First, that the Mizukage had personally led a strike force against Uzushiogakure. Then, that it hadn't been just Kiri but a full-blown coalition—Iwa, Kiri, Kumo, and Suna, each village sending over 1500 ninja, plus a generous helping of elites who were very confident they'd be home by New Year, but none of them were.
Not a single one.
Normally, Uzushiogakure wouldn't have had the faintest idea what was happening outside its borders. The island was wrapped tighter than a paranoid Uzumaki's sealing scroll, its barrier cutting it off from the world.
Unfortunately for everyone else, there was Azula. Thanks to Flying Thunder God, isolation meant absolutely nothing to her.
She popped in and out of the Ninja World like she owned the place—and considering she'd left her marks scattered across damn near every country, information came to her faster than most villages' intelligence divisions.
All she had to do was teleport, throw on a disguise, and listen. Which she was disturbingly good at.
"So?" Tsunade asked the moment Azula reappeared, already bored despite the fact that the world was very clearly on fire. "Any news?"
Azula shrugged, completely unimpressed. "Nothing interesting. Just about every major village finalizing plans to fight Konoha to the death."
She didn't linger after speaking but headed straight for the meeting room—that was why she'd come back.
Decisions had to be made, and Uzushiogakure wasn't exactly lacking enemies at the moment. Tsunade, who had only been outside because she'd been waiting for her, followed without hesitation.
Inside, the room was already packed. Familiar faces greeted them—Mito, Tajima, Murasake... sitting calmly.
And then the newer ones: Nawaki, trying very hard to look like he belonged there; Fugaku, quiet, observant; and around them were the elders of the Senju and Uchiha clans.
"It seems everyone is here," Mito said calmly, her presence alone enough to silence the room. As the strongest and one of the most senior among them, she naturally took the seat of authority for this meeting. "Good. Then we won't waste time on pleasantries or optimism."
"According to the intelligence gathered by the Uchiha Matriarch," Mito continued, turning slightly toward Azula and addressing her with formal respect, "the news of the Mizukage's death—and the complete destruction of his fleet—has already spread throughout the Ninja World. As expected."
Expected, yes. Welcomed? Less so.
"And although we predicted the consequences," Mito went on, her voice steady, "the situation has escalated faster than anticipated. The villages have already reached a consensus."
"They intend to launch a joint offensive against Konoha and Uzushiogakure with a simple plan: weaken Konoha as much as possible… and erase Uzushiogakure entirely along with the Uzumaki."
Ironically, the Mizukage and his precious fleet hadn't even made it close to the Land of Whirlpools before being wiped off the map.
But Azula and the others hadn't exactly gone out of their way to keep that detail a secret. Among clan leadership, at least, the message had been very clear.
Come for us, and this is what you get.
Still, when the word war was spoken aloud, most of them couldn't help but sigh. Not in fear—just resignation, because this was inevitable.
They hadn't gathered here to mourn the state of the world, though. Mito didn't allow that luxury.
"This meeting," she said firmly, "is to decide our next course of action. We cannot remain on defense here. Konoha cannot function without the Uchiha… and it certainly cannot afford to fight other villages without the Senju."
Her gaze swept across the room.
"We have three options. First: return to the village and prepare for a prolonged war. Second: intercept Kirigakure's advancing forces before they can link up with the others. Third—" She paused. "—strike first. Attack Kiri directly and cripple their military so thoroughly that they are rendered incapable of participating in this war at all."
No one needed to ask whose idea that was.
Azula didn't smile, but there was a certain stillness about her that said everything.
Theoretically, she could end this in an afternoon—teleport Mito into the Land of Water, drop a few Nine-Tails Tailed Beast Bombs, and turn Kirigakure into a cautionary tale told to academy students.
But neither of them even entertained the thought, because it would involve too many civilians and create too much pointless destruction. Azula wasn't interested in annihilation; she wanted to conquer.
Her plan was as simple as ever. Gather every available force, march on Kiri, then draw their shinobi out into open battle and finally kill as many as necessary, breaking their backbone.
And when it was over? She would have her first village conquered in unifying the Ninja World.
(END OF THE CHAPTER)
Here's today's chapter, and don't forget to vote guys, it helps a lot