Chapter 382: Great Ships and Gifts
"Is it absolutely necessary to leave?"
In the furthest reaches of the Western Ninja World—the edge of the Land of Wind—lies a coast bordering an uncharted, unknown sea.
This region was so remote that the waves of change sweeping the rest of the world had never reached its shores. Many local residents were entirely unaware that the world had been turned upside down; they continued to live simple lives, farming and weaving in a world apart.
However, seven massive ships now sat anchored in a secret deep-water harbor. Each vessel was over a hundred meters long, with sails as high as multi-story buildings. A swarm of servants and porters frantically hauled crates of supplies onto the decks.
One porter, buckling under the weight of a particularly heavy chest, dropped it. Instantly, a cascade of gold, silver, and precious jewels spilled across the dock, drawing a collective gasp from the crowd.
But before greed could take root, guards stepped forward and whisked the surrounding porters away to a dark corner. Whatever fate awaited them, it was clear they wouldn't be returning to work.
A man stood watching from the pier. He looked exhausted, yet he carried an aura of sharp, desperate competence. This was the former Earth Daimyo—the man who had faked his own death via a body double to organize half the ninja world into the Anti-Cloud Alliance.
"Iwagakure and Sunagakure have betrayed us," the old man said, his voice cold. "Our cause is lost. There is no longer a place for us on this continent. The only thing that awaits us here is a final reckoning. Our only option is to leave. We sail for the New World to plan our next move."
His companion was a younger man, dressed in lavish silks and wearing the ornate, fan-shaped hat of high nobility. "But I heard... the Daimyos of the Land of Rice Fields and the Land of Hot Water... are living quite well..."
The old man's eyes flashed with disdain. "They are nothing more than pampered guinea pigs. In a generation or two, their lineages will be erased entirely. We are different. we raised the banner of rebellion against the Cloud. Now that the two Great Ninja Villages have defected to them, every debt will be settled on our heads."
The young man in silks—the Wind Daimyo—muttered selfishly, "A generation or two of luxury... that sounds good enough to me..."
The old man let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "I've said my piece. If you wish to stay and face the 'mercy' of the Federation, you are free to disembark."
The Wind Daimyo looked at the ships and hesitated. Despite being a contingency plan funded by the Earth Daimyo's vast wealth, the conditions at sea couldn't compare to the luxury of a palace. Between concubines and servants, he was only permitted a few dozen retainers. How could his quality of life be maintained? A ship full of gold was useless if there was nowhere to spend it.
Time was running out. The Earth Daimyo wasted no more breath. The harbor was filled with the heads of various states from the Anti-Cloud Alliance and nobles who knew they had no future under the new regime. Fear had driven them here, but facing the reality of the sea, many began to lose their nerve.
Human nature is a fickle thing. Faced with the certainty of hardship, many began to fantasize: Perhaps the Cloud-Thunder Federation won't purge us? Maybe they'll just let us go?
This fleet was headed for the distant oceans, seeking a continent mentioned only in ancient texts. It was a journey of endurance and survival, meant for those looking to bide their time and one day return to reclaim the world. It was not a pleasure cruise.
A few hours later, the seven ships weighed anchor on schedule, leaving the continent behind and sailing into an uncertain future.
Nearly a third of the Daimyos and nobles changed their minds at the final second. They chose to stay on the continent, clutching their gold and jewels. Some feared the sea; some held onto false hope; others were simply dissatisfied with the accommodations and refused to board.
As the seven ships vanished over the horizon, the remaining nobles began frantically reorganizing their belongings. They hauled chests of treasure back onto their carriages. However, because they had just "liquidated" most of the local laborers to keep the harbor secret, their progress was agonizingly slow.
The servants they had kept were personal attendants—the elite of the domestic staff. Like their masters, they were used to acting superior and had never performed a day of hard labor in their lives.
An hour passed. While the nobles were still struggling with their luggage, dozens of silhouettes appeared at the perimeter of the secret harbor, surrounding them.
Seeing the ninja attire and the forehead protectors, the nobles froze in terror.
The newcomers were a squad of Suna ninja.
Panic erupted. Some began to shriek; others fell to their knees, wailing.
Amidst the chaos, the Wind Daimyo pushed through the crowd. He steadied his breathing, knowing that arrogance was useless now. For the first time in his life, he forced a groveling, sycophantic smile onto his face.
"Is that you, Rasa-dono? We... we used to sit in council together often! Surely you can make an exception for an old friend?"
The Wind Daimyo swore that in his entire life, he had never spoken so submissively to another human being.
Rasa glanced at him with an expressionless gaze. Then, he raised a hand.
Just as the Wind Daimyo thought he was being granted mercy, a torrent of Gold Dust surged from Rasa's back. It swirled into a massive golden sphere, swallowing the Daimyo whole. With a sharp twist of Rasa's fingers, the sphere contracted.
Blood seeped from the gold dust. The Wind Daimyo didn't even have time to scream.
Rasa issued the cold command: "Execute the order. Remember—leave no survivors."
"NO! PLEASE!"
"DON'T KILL ME! I HAVE MONEY! I'M A DAIMYO!"
The harbor turned into a scene of slaughter. The ninja of Sunagakure carried out their orders with clinical precision. To them, killing was simply their job.
Cloud City, Administrative Headquarters.
"Dana-sama, we have confirmation. All seven ships have been sunk. No survivors."
Dana looked up, accepting the freshly drafted report.
After reading the contents in detail, Dana handed the folder back to his subordinate.
"Salvage anything of value. This document is to be classified as Top Secret. No one is to view it without my personal authorization."
The subordinate, understanding the gravity, nodded and withdrew.
Dana leaned back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose. sometimes, he actually envied the late Hiruzen Sarutobi; at least the Third Hokage had a "Shadow" like Danzo to handle the dirty work.
In truth, every movement of the "Anti-Cloud Alliance's" escape had been conducted right under the Federation's nose. Without the protection of their own ninja villages, the nobles' security was a joke.
But Dana hadn't stopped them. In fact, he had provided favorable conditions. He had used Genjutsu on several high-ranking sailors, tricking the Earth Daimyo into believing they had truly discovered a path to a "New Continent," bolstering their resolve to set sail.
It was all a setup to gather the Daimyos and nobles in one place. It saved the Cloud the immense trouble of hunting them down across the entire world.
These people had to die, and they had to die silently, in a way that didn't implicate the Federation. Having them "abandon their people" to flee with their wealth, only to perish in a shipwreck far at sea, was the perfect solution.
Only then could the Federation reasonably consolidate the hearts of the people and seize the land and wealth these families had accumulated over centuries.
If the Federation had arrested and tried them publicly, the legal and social cleanup would have taken years. Moreover, nostalgic commoners might have developed a "victim complex" regarding their old rulers. After all, the prestige and legal legitimacy of the Daimyos had been built over hundreds of years.
With this final sweep, except for a few remote micro-nations that had stayed out of the global conflict, most of the ninja continent had been purged of the old order. Those tiny border nations were insignificant; they would eventually see which way the wind was blowing.
"At this rate, the unification of the continent isn't far off..." Dana mused.
Perhaps the actual administrative reach would take years to touch every corner...
But in terms of legal legitimacy and power, 80% of the ninja world's land was about to be absorbed by the Federation.
Dana looked out the window at the sprawling expanse of Cloud City.
In a few months, it would be twenty years since he arrived in this world.
The achievement of "Unifying the Ninja World" would be his gift to himself for his twentieth birthday.
"Not a bad milestone," he whispered.
A small smile played on his lips.