When Raizen hauled Eight Tails into Kamui and vanished, the Land of Lightning went into full meltdown.
Ai raged, smashed walls, probably considered punching a mountain—but none of it mattered.
The beast was gone.
Again.
And the moment Cloud confirmed it, the news exploded across the continent like a kunai thrown into dry oil.
Konoha had captured Eight Tails.
Which meant Konoha now held Six of the Nine.
Fear sharpened into hatred.
Hatred twisted into unity.
And all eyes turned toward the village Raizen built.
Konoha's Return
Raizen returned home without ceremony, slipping through the gates and straight into the sealing hall.
Another altar. Another monstrous mass of chakra compressed into a quiet, humming mark.
Six Tailed Beasts…
Two-man armies sitting on his doorstep.
Only Three remained:
Nine Tails
Four Tails
Six Tails
If Konoha controlled all nine?
The era of clan warfare would end in an instant.
Because nothing, nothing short of a god could challenge them.
Raizen didn't even finish catching his breath when trouble arrived.
Bad News from Every Direction
First came the Land of Earth.
The endless warfare between stone clans? Gone.
They unified at a pace even Raizen had to respect.
Their leader declared himself First Tsuchikage, and Iwagakure became a proper village.
Then, barely a week later—
The Land of Water unified too.
The scattered clans pulled together, formed Kirigakure, named a First Mizukage, and called it a new dawn.
Two major nations unified in under two months.
And the Land of Lightning—surprise—refused to be left behind.
Ai returned to Cloud, launched a brutal internal campaign, and unified the entire country in record time.
He crowned himself First Raikage, because of course he did.
Now, only the Land of Wind remained fractured.
But even that was only a matter of time—Raizen could feel the pressure rising like a storm wind.
When big nations unify, they look outward.
And Konoha, with more tailed beasts than anyone alive, was the biggest target imaginable.
Raizen rubbed his forehead.
"Great. I create one village and everyone speedruns the political system."
Worse News: Four Tails
Anbu messengers burst into the meeting hall.
"Report! Iwagakure officially claims to have captured Four Tails!"
Hashirama stiffened.
Madara's expression sharpened.
Raizen exhaled through his nose.
He had suspected this.
Anbu hadn't found even a whisper of Four Tails in months.
Someone else got there first.
Madara snorted.
"So what? We need it, we take it. If the Land of Earth has Four Tails, we simply go there and grab it."
Hashirama dragged a hand down his face.
"Madara… you can't just—"
"But I can," Madara replied, tone flat, absolute confidence dripping from every word. "If I want something, I take it. Doesn't matter whose territory it's in."
Raizen cut in before Hashirama could start a pacifism lecture.
"Not yet. If we attack Iwa now, it becomes a war between nations."
"War is inevitable," Madara muttered.
"Not this war," Raizen said. "Not right now."
He turned to Hashirama.
"You go after Six Tails. We know its location."
Hashirama nodded immediately.
"Of course."
Raizen then looked at Madara.
"You keep tracking Nine Tails."
"I already would have it," Madara grumbled, "if you hadn't dragged me back after Eight Tails."
Raizen smirked.
"Then you shouldn't waste time complaining."
Madara's eyes narrowed—then he smiled, sharp and vicious.
"Don't worry, Raizen. Nine Tails won't escape me."
With that, the three legends split—two to hunt, one to manage the fallout of an entire world unifying in response to them.
Hashirama and Madara in Konoha
As Raizen stayed behind to coordinate the village, Hashirama and Madara walked through Konoha's bustling streets.
Children ran past carrying wooden kunai.
Merchants shouting.
The smell of roasting rice cakes from a stall.
The kind of peace the world had never seen before.
Hashirama breathed it in like fresh air.
"Ah… it's been so long since I've rested here," he said, stretching like a man who hadn't unclenched his shoulders in years.
Madara scoffed.
"There's nothing special about this place."
Hashirama puffed his cheeks like an irritated child.
"Hey! Madara! Don't be like that."
He gestured to the village around them.
"Isn't this what we always dreamed of? A village where children don't die?"
Madara looked away, refusing to answer—but not denying.
Just then, a small girl noticed the two men.
She eyed them, whispered to herself, then darted to a flower stall and bought two bundles.
She ran up to them, cheeks pink with shyness, and thrust a flower at each.
Then she fled.
Hashirama stared at the flower in his hand—tiny, white, trembling in the breeze.
The little girl laughed as she rejoined her friends.
Slowly, Hashirama's fingers tightened around the stem.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"This village… this is what I want to protect. No matter who threatens it… friend, brother… even child…"
The wind carried his final vow.
"I won't let anyone destroy Konoha."
...
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