Danzo’s eyes shifted, cold and calculating. “Then the solution is balance. Break them up. Scatter their deployments across multiple fronts. No concentrated power, no concentrated merit. If they bleed equally everywhere, they will never be able to stand together against us afterward.”

Koharu gave a small nod, though her voice was skeptical. “And if one of their promising young ones manages to distinguish themselves? That merit still returns to the clan name. That is the danger.”

Hiruzen tapped his pipe against the edge of the table, ash falling into the tray. His face was unreadable. “The Hyūga we can check. The Main Branch is cautious. The Side Branch will never rise without them. But the Uchiha…” He paused, smoke curling between his words.

“They are always restless. Ambition and suspicion both run too deep in their blood. If too many of them win glory on the battlefield, it will give them a voice they’ve long been denied.”

“Then deny it to them,” Danzo said bluntly. “Choose commanders outside those clans. Assign their units where the odds of survival are lowest. Thin their ranks by attrition.”

Hiruzen’s gaze lingered on Danzo, but he did not dismiss the words. His silence was its own kind of agreement.

The four of them sat with the weight of the matter pressing down on the terrace, the distant hum of Konoha drifting up from below.

The war was coming, and with it the question that had haunted the village since its founding: not only how to fight its enemies abroad, but how to control its clans within.

“If we don’t give them some bait, how else do we make them bleed for us in this war?” Hiruzen said evenly, his face calm, as though he were speaking of routine policy. “Handled properly, this conflict can be our greatest opportunity to reduce their ranks. At least in the case of the Uchiha. The Hyūga… I have a different plan in mind.”

He let the words settle, then continued with a measured tone. “Take their young patriarch, for example. Fugaku has always spoken of integrating the clan more closely into the village, unlike his hardliner elders. Then let him. In fact, I propose giving him a command post.”

Danzo immediately shook his head, as if preparing to list objections, but Hiruzen raised a hand. “I have not finished speaking. I already know what you want to say. But, you’re wrong, Danzo. Think clearly. How else do we draw them away from their police force and their compound if not with promises of command? Remember the founding agreements, we cannot coerce the Uchiha outright as we can others fully, not yet. But if we lure them into chasing merits, we can bleed them in the process.”

He leaned forward, his voice calm, precise, as though delivering instructions to a classroom. “Send them where their natural strengths falter. Against Kirigakure, where water drowns out fire, instead of the Suna front where the desert favors them. Make Fugaku the commander there. Allow him to bring some of his clansmen for ‘security,’ but on principle we cannot allow cliques to form in wartime. On that basis we’ll scatter the bulk of Uchiha shinobi across Orochimaru’s and Jiraiya’s fronts, trimming them step by step under the pretext of unity.”

A thin trail of smoke curled from his pipe as he went on. “If Fugaku wants to fulfill his dream of proving loyalty to the village, of reaching higher positions, perhaps even mine someday, then he will have to make concessions. His sub-commanders will not be chosen by him alone. We will place our own eyes and hands among them. After the war, their numbers will already be reduced, and our agents within his camp will ensure that whatever glory Fugaku hopes for slips quietly into our hands instead. In the end, it is a win–win.”

Hiruzen spoke this language of slow destruction with the same casual tone he used for budget reports, and even Danzo, Homura, and Koharu exchanged faint glances.

They had long known the essence of the man across from them, but even in their presence, he cloaked brutality in the diction of policy, as if trimming a clan to the bone were no more than pruning a tree.

Homura gave a short cough, half in surprise at how… thorough Hiruzen’s plan for the Uchiha had been. Then, steadying himself, he asked, “And the Hyūga?”

Hiruzen leaned back, pipe balanced between his fingers. “The Hyūga are different. For years, because our eyes were fixed on the Uchiha, we treated them more leniently. As a result, their influence now rivals the Uchiha’s. But they are not the same kind of threat. They lack that volatility, that tendency to produce unstable individuals who push into Kage-level power again and again. The Hyūga are quieter. The Side Branch is filled with auxiliaries and support shinobi, the kind every village values as gold. The Main Branch is decadent, uninterested in anything but presiding over their small compound like kings.”

His tone hardened. “I don’t intend to suppress them through this war. On the contrary, we need their strength if we want to win. No more concessions. All Side Branch members must be sent out, save for household servants, logistic workers of the compound, and the few needed to watch the perimeter. And even some from the Main Branch as well.”

Danzo’s eye narrowed, but he said nothing. His long-standing suspicion of the Hyūga’s more ‘unassuming’ policies made him hesitate, yet he kept his silence.

It was Koharu who broke it, her voice sharp. “But that would be without precedent, and a direct violation of the village’s agreement. The Main Branch has always refused to risk their eyes on the battlefield. That was part of the deal.”

Hiruzen’s eyes narrowed, smoke curling from his lips. “I know. But the Main Branch hoards nearly all of the clan’s elite jōnin, and even nearly half of the regular ones, despite being outnumbered ten to one by their own Side Branch. I don’t have the luxury of indulging their decadent wishes any longer, no matter how polite and accommodating they have been to me in the past. They will contribute this time.”

He tapped the pipe once against the tray, his voice steady as though he were giving a lecture. “To soften it, I plan to grant them command of the Suna front, with nearly all sub-command posts reserved for them as well. No Main Branch member will be sent anywhere else. That way, they can feel secure, surrounded by their own, and still bring a bunch of their servants and Side Branch retainers to serve and protect them. The Side Branch, however, will be deployed everywhere. Their supporting abilities are indispensable; they are the bloodstream of war.”

His words fell with the weight of finality, spoken not as a suggestion but as a settled doctrine.

They spoke a little longer on the Uchiha and Hyūga before the conversation shifted. Hiruzen drew in from his pipe, exhaled, and leaned forward slightly.

“There is another matter,” he said. “Preparations I have already set in motion for this war. Call them… my personal inventions.”

Koharu arched a brow. “Inventions?”

Hiruzen nodded. “The first is a unified sensory division. I’ve long planned it, ever since I realized how badly we would need coordination in the next war. We will link our fronts together through a network of sensors. The one to lead it will be Inoichi Yamanaka. He has the talent, and his clan is willing to push him despite the strain it will put on his mind. Some chakra transmission technology I had ordered to create since then will also help this project.”

Homura rubbed his chin. “So he’ll be the core, and the others will feed into him?”

“Exactly,” Hiruzen said. “There will be sensors scattered across the Land of Fire, forming a net. Their perception will reach the fronts through Inoichi’s coordination. He will sit in the war council itself, alongside Shikaku Nara, Shinsuke, and us.”

Danzo’s single eye narrowed, but he said nothing. He understood the weight of that choice—an invisible chain binding the war effort together.

Hiruzen let the silence settle, then spoke again. “The second invention is medical. A mobile medical corps. Stand-by units that can reach the frontlines quickly. And at its head, Tsunade.”

At that name, the terrace grew quieter still. Koharu’s lips pressed thin. Homura glanced toward Hiruzen with a questioning look.

“She’s hardly been stable since the last war,” Koharu said at last.

“I know,” Hiruzen admitted. His voice was level, but his thoughts ran deeper. Ever since Dan Katō’s death and her failure to save him, Tsunade had refused the battlefield. She carried a fear of blood, the curse of her own trauma. For years, he had wondered how to use her strength for Konoha again. The answer was simple—if she would no longer fight, she could still heal.

Aloud, he continued, “She remains the most gifted medic-nin in the world. Even if she no longer fights, her presence as commander of such a unit will be a game-changer. I’ve already sent word. I… personally appealed to her. She will not refuse, in my opinion, not when she knows how many lives can be saved. And she still returns to Konoha from time to time, to refine the procedures she herself created at the hospital back during the last war. This means that she still didn’t see herself separately from it.”

Homura sighed. “If she agrees, that alone could shift the tide. A medical corps of that scale—unprecedented.”

“Indeed,” Hiruzen said. “Since the last war ended, I’ve trained a new cadre of shinobi exclusively in medical practice. They will accompany combat units, extend their survivability, and provide flexibility we lacked before.”

For a moment, his pipe trembled slightly between his fingers. He masked it with another puff of smoke.

These measures had been born not of optimism, but of the grim knowledge he had carried for years, that this war would come, and Konoha would be at its center.

Meanwhile, Hiruzen had a third and most important ace. If successful, it would shape the outcome of the war more than any policy or division.

That ace was Minato, and the mobile strike unit he planned to form around him. Kushina would be placed in it as well.

Together, they could become Konoha’s most decisive weapon.

This arrangement would serve more than the battlefield.

It would build Minato’s reputation, allow him to gather tremendous achievements and merits on literally all four battlefronts that would make his succession to Hokage seamless once Hiruzen was forced to step down.

In theory, it would preserve Konoha’s position, perhaps not yielding more gains, but at least preventing the losses that threatened to undo everything won in the Second War.

But Hiruzen could not share this with Danzo. Not yet. He knew all too well the ambitions Danzo nursed in silence.

And besides, Minato had not yet perfected the Flying Raijin to that envisioned extent.

For now, Hiruzen planned to station him under Jiraiya in the northwest, alongside Kushina.

Minato had proven before that he could stabilize her when her emotions strained her control, and Iwagakure would undoubtedly field their own jinchūriki there, as they had in the past.

Hiruzen did not hesitate long on this point.

In the previous war, Kushina had been too young and unstable in her control for the majority of the war, and he also had refused to risk placing a jinchūriki outside the village and beyond his direct oversight.

But now there was no choice. Konoha’s supply of elite shinobi was dangerously thin.

Sakumo was gone, destroyed by the public smear campaign orchestrated between him and Danzo. Tsunade had lost her ability to fight.

And Hiruzen himself could not be everywhere at once.

Iwagakure, by contrast, delighted in unleashing their Kage-level jinchūriki on the frontlines.

Hiruzen knew he would have enough trouble elsewhere; he could not guarantee his own presence on that front. Minato and Kushina would have to shoulder it under Jiraiya.

As the sun started falling, the last matter of the meeting came to the table.

Hiruzen’s voice was steady, the pipe smoldering faintly in his hand. “The structure of the wartime council is set. I will serve as chief of staff. Inoichi Yamanaka will join us as the core of the sensory division, connected most of the time, his network linking every front. Shikaku Nara will act as chief strategist. Shinsuke will continue leading ANBU. Danzo, as always, will oversee covert operations and infiltration. Homura and Koharu will remain as senior advisors. Those will be all of the members.”

Homura inclined his head. “That arrangement covers every need.”

Koharu added, her tone thin, “Then the chain of command is clear.”

Danzo’s expression remained composed, though the faint tightening of his grip on the cane betrayed his thoughts.

Hiruzen rose from his chair, his gaze lingering on the already lantern-lit rooftops of Konoha outside the terrace. “Then we are finished. Each of us knows our role. The rest… will be decided on the battlefield.”

One by one, the old comrades pushed back from the table, the smoke of the Hokage’s pipe still hanging over them as they left the terrace for their own paths into the rest of evening.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep