Chapter 213: The Price of Expansion and the Weight of War

The cause of war, in truth, hardly mattered anymore. Once the flames spread, they simply spread. Reasons were nothing more than decoration—what truly mattered was that those with overwhelming power had decided it should happen.

In reality, the existence of Akatsuki was merely a pretext to assemble vast armies. Even the destruction had been nothing more than a consequence of political friction: the feudal lords of the River and Takigakure refusing to allow the armies of the Land of Lightning and Land of Wind to station within their borders.

Or rather, that was the official story. In truth, those feudal lords had only asked to “consider the matter.” Under normal protocols, negotiations and compensation would have followed. But the coalition forces had never intended to respect such procedures.

Against the military strength of great nations, small countries had no real chance of resistance. If they surrendered, casualties would remain relatively limited—perhaps only a few thousand mistaken deaths. If they resisted… the outcome became unpredictable.

Those who held out to the end were always “taught a lesson.”

In truth, even massacres could be justified as a way to prevent greater losses. In the Land of Frost, for example, the feudal lord surrendered quickly. Yet the ruler stubbornly clung to meaningless “honor,” and as a result, the city was wiped clean—nothing remained. It was not because the Third Tsuchikage was cruel, but because the lord lacked foresight.

Thus, in what would later be called the Fourth Great Ninja War—no, the Fourth World War—there was not a single civilian who wished for their ruler to be “honorable.”

Land, resources, wealth. Small nations without power were disappearing rapidly, while the maps of great nations expanded without end.

This was a war that could not be stopped. And perhaps… a war that could not be allowed to stop.

Even Onoki—no, even Mizukage Mei Terumi—could not simply withdraw from it, even if Kirigakure lay isolated across the sea.

“Sounds like you’ve been under a lot of pressure.”

The voice belonged to someone who should not have been in Kirigakure.

The Fifth Kazekage sat before her, cloaked and hooded, unaccompanied. Without his admission, no one would have recognized him. Yet Mei knew exactly who he was—and why he had come.

The sake was already heated. One sip burned down the throat like fire.

Mei drank heavily, bottles scattered around her, simple dishes far too modest for a Kage-level guest. Yet Gaara showed no complaint. He, too, had come here in disguise—something unbecoming of a village leader.

When the alcohol finally settled into warmth in her stomach, Mei finally responded.

“You’re in the same position.”

Both the Fifth Kazekage and the Fifth Mizukage did not want this war. Yet both were forced into it.

Gaara let out a quiet sigh and poured himself a drink. He drank it in one motion—fire burning through throat, chest, and stomach.

This war, supposedly against Akatsuki, was in truth about expansion. When it came to territory and national interests, the Daimyo refused to yield even a single inch.

Gaara had long learned to think from a Daimyo’s perspective. Yet every time he stood on the battlefield and watched lives disappear into rivers of blood and sand, he felt only emptiness.

He was Kazekage—protecting his village was his duty. He was also a military asset of the Land of Wind—serving the nation was his obligation.

He did not want to invade Amegakure, but that land was what the Daimyo desired.

He did not want to remember how many compromises had been made to reach that decision. Nor what had been sacrificed along the way.

Mei, too, had been forced into compromise. To avoid joining the Allied invasion force directly, Kirigakure could not contribute combat strength—only supplies.

But Kirigakure had no surplus supplies. So the only solution was to plunder neighboring smaller nations.

That was the agreement between Mizukage Mei and the Land of Water’s Daimyo.

“You don’t have to join the inland campaign,” the deal had said, “but whatever Fire and Wind gain, the Land of Water must not fall behind even a single step.”

That was the transaction.

“The Tsuchikage has always treated Amegakure like a thorn in his side. If they obtain it, nothing good will come of it. The best option is for you to take it—only you would treat its people with restraint.”

Mei analyzed calmly. Gaara understood. It was the optimal strategy.

And yet neither of them acted on what was “optimal.”

Because both of them remembered why they couldn’t.

CLANG!

A bottle fell and shattered. Mei’s eyes turned red.

“You’re a piece of shit, Gaara!” she shouted.

Gaara did not get angry. He simply finished his drink, stood up, and prepared to leave the small, shabby bar.

“Internal frontlines are already decided. In three days, we march on Amegakure. The Raikage requests your presence at the alliance meeting, and supplies must be delivered on schedule.”

He turned away.

“Kazekage.”

Mei’s voice stopped him.

Gaara halted.

“If they really defeat the Otsutsuki and come back… what are we supposed to do then?”

Silence stretched.

Then Gaara spoke quietly.

“They won’t come back. The Six Paths: Five Dragons Sealing Formation is already active. Half a month ago, space-time ninjutsu ceased to exist in this world. There will be no more Otsutsuki… and no more Akatsuki.”

He left. As if he had never been there at all.

Mei’s tears finally broke loose.

CRASH!

Bottles and dishes scattered across the floor. She felt suffocated—like all the air in the world had left with him. Her chest tightened violently, as if something inside her was about to burst.

She tried to scream. No sound came out.

So she destroyed everything around her instead. Tables, dishes, anything within reach. Like an ordinary woman breaking down.

No sound. No sobbing. Only tears.

Until exhaustion collapsed her to the floor.

Then came the trembling breaths.

Then came the quiet sobbing.

Then came the full, broken wail.

“…you bastard…”

A whisper.

“…you’re a bastard…”

A broken voice.

“…Mei Terumi… you’re a bastard!!!”

A scream into emptiness.

Who wasn’t, in the end?

If possible, Orochimaru truly wished Toneri had never descended from the moon.

If possible, he wished war had never existed.

If possible, he wished the world was still the one he once understood.

But “if” did not exist in reality.

“…Orochimaru, when they finish the war, will everything return to normal? I’ve never been to Kinka City. Karin said its snow is beautiful.”

……

The complete fanfic (Chapter 261) is already available on P@treon(.)com/Crimson_Lore