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Fire Capital, inn.
"I say, it's been almost two hours, hasn't it?"
Asuma, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, leaned against the window and lazily watched the street below. "What's the Daimyo playing at? He calls us here, then leaves us sitting?"
His tone was laced with impatience.
He was young after all, not good at waiting.
"Calm down, Asuma."
A peaceful voice came from the corner.
It was Chiriku, the Guardian Monk from the Fire Temple, who had arrived earlier. Clad in his kasaya and holding a Zen staff, he joined his palms together.
"We should not presume to guess the heart of the monarch."
Asuma clicked his tongue but said nothing more, turning his gaze back to the window.
The street outside was overflowing with life.
Merchants, artisans, and Civilians from all across the Land of Fire moved about, their faces tired yet brimming with hope.
In the shops lining the street, wartime luxuries like sugar and silk were displayed openly, sold as if they were ordinary goods.
From time to time, people dressed as Civilians went in to inquire about prices or make purchases.
"This is crazy," Asuma muttered.
He remembered visiting last year with his father. The capital had been prosperous, yes, but nothing like this.
Now the air itself felt charged, vibrant, filled with an energy of growth and ambition.
At the other end of the room, Kazuma and Natsukawa sat by the window, eyes wide in awe as they watched the busy scene outside.
"Natsukawa, look at that butcher shop," Kazuma whispered. "I saw a few Civilians buying half a pig! Are all the people here that rich?"
Hizashi sat silently on the tatami, eyes closed. But through the Byakugan, he observed the city's pulse more clearly than anyone.
The patrols of the city guard were orderly and steady.
The workers in the workshops brimmed with purpose.
Compared to the oppressive air of the Hyuga Clan compound, this place was a different world entirely.
At that moment, the door slid open softly.
A figure appeared in the doorway.
It was a Shadow Guard.
Everyone's attention immediately shifted toward him.
"By order of Daimyo-sama, I am to guide the Twelve Guardian Ninja."
The Shadow Guard displayed his identification tag, his voice calm and even.
"Please, follow me."
Asuma's mood brightened slightly, and he quickly stepped forward. "Who are you? Are we going to meet the Daimyo now?"
"No," the Shadow Guard replied. "Daimyo-sama is not receiving guests today."
At those words, Asuma's brows furrowed instantly.
They had traveled across the Land of Fire, only to not even meet the ruler they were to serve?
The others exchanged uncertain glances. Even Chiriku's usually tranquil expression showed faint confusion.
Only the Uchiha Ninja stood silently, face unreadable.
Since their entire clan had pledged itself to the Daimyo, every order carried meaning. It was not his place to question, only to obey.
"Then where are we going?" Asuma pressed.
"The construction site," came the reply.
The room fell silent.
The construction site?
They were the Twelve Guardian Ninja—the Daimyo's direct elite force, chosen from Konoha's finest.
And he wanted them to go to… a construction site?
To do what?
Move bricks?
Though everyone's hearts were filled with questions, no one dared object.
This was the Daimyo's order.
Perhaps he was waiting for them there.
The group followed the Shadow Guard silently out of the inn and merged into the crowded streets.
As they moved westward, the scenery gradually changed.
The bustling shops and fragrant food stalls gave way to dust, sweat, and the raw smell of earth.
At the end of the road lay a massive construction site.
Thousands of artisans and laborers worked tirelessly, their shouts and hammering forming a symphony of progress.
And there, they saw a sight that left them utterly speechless.
More than a dozen Ninja, working in teams, moved in synchronization, forming hand seals.
"Earth Release: Earth Flow River!"
"Earth Release: Earth Flow Divide!"
"Earth Release: Earth Flow Rampart!"
With each technique, the ground trembled.
The earth flowed like waves, rising, shaping itself into smooth, wide foundations.
Massive earth walls shot up from the ground, forming the skeletal frames of new houses.
One Ninja pressed his palms to the soil, and in mere seconds, the foundations of five houses took shape.
The Twelve stood frozen.
The cigarette slipped from Asuma's mouth, hitting the ground with a dull clatter.
"Ha… haha…"
He let out two hollow laughs, his voice shaking with disbelief. "Is this a joke? Having Jōnin use Earth Release to build walls? What is this, the newest punchline in the Ninja world?"
"I went through years of training, mastered Ninjutsu, to fight for the Will of Fire!"
"Not to become some kind of… super bricklayer!"
To him, this felt like an insult.
The Nara clansman beside him stayed quiet, but his mind raced.
Efficient—this method was unbelievably efficient.
But… what did it mean?
If Ninjutsu could be harnessed for large-scale construction, wouldn't that completely redefine the role and value of Ninja?
Wouldn't it overturn Konoha's mission system and the entire Shinobi economy?
The thought sent chills down his spine.
This Daimyo was far more dangerous than he had imagined.
Hizashi's expression was like ice.
As a member of the Hyuga Branch Family, he understood discipline and hierarchy better than anyone.
To him, Ninjutsu was sacred—an art of battle and protection, a symbol of noble status.
To use that same power for labor? That was desecration.
He couldn't comprehend it.
Kazuma and Natsukawa, however, trembled for a different reason.
Their hearts pounded, eyes shining.
Kazuma's vision blurred as memories flooded back: the leaking roof of his childhood home, his mother's cough echoing in the cold, and the freezing nights when rain seeped through the walls.
If only Ninja had helped them build a house back then…
He didn't understand what Ninja "dignity" meant.
Nor did he care.
He only knew that these powerful men were building homes—homes that could shield people like him from wind and rain.
This was kindness beyond words.
"Amitabha."
Chiriku clasped his hands together, his voice low and reverent.
There was no resistance in his eyes, nor fanaticism, only calm enlightenment.
Killing to protect life, severing karma but not people.
Ninjutsu was a blade, capable of both destruction and creation.
Wasn't this—what stood before them—the truest expression of purpose?
This Daimyo, who ruled with the thunder of authority yet the compassion of a sage, embodied great virtue.
While everyone wrestled with their own thoughts, the Shadow Guard turned toward them.
"Daimyo-sama has given his order."
"From today until the project's completion, you Twelve will oversee the construction's progress."
Asuma's face went rigid.
Even the Uchiha's stoic expression cracked, a faint vein pulsing at his temple.
To have him, an elite of the Uchiha—supervise builders?
This was the 'important duty' they had been summoned for?
Rage surged in his chest, but he swallowed it down.
The Shadow Guard ignored their expressions and continued, "Daimyo-sama also said…"
"He hopes you can understand some principles on this construction site."
"When the buildings are complete, Daimyo-sama will meet you."
With that, his figure blurred and vanished.
Leaving the Twelve Guardian Ninja standing in the dust.
Understand some principles?
Understand what?
To the clan-born elites like Asuma, the words sounded like mockery.
But to Kazuma and Natsukawa, they sounded like revelation.
The wind blew across the site, stirring up clouds of dust.
(To be continued.)