As Second Tsuchikage 48

Chapter 48: The Second Tsuchikage

Under Mū’s leadership, Iwagakure had steadily grown more prosperous. Compared to before, it was far more bustling now, with two new commercial streets having opened up in the heart of the village. Thanks to Ishikawa’s relentless promotion campaigns, imagery of the "Will of Stone" and portraits of Mū adorned every major building, shopfront, and training ground.

Ever since word spread that Mū had taken command of the Allied Shinobi Forces, directly battled Madara Uchiha, held back Hashirama Senju, and ultimately led the conquest of Konohagakure as supreme commander, all of Iwagakure had been overwhelmed with pride. He had become more than a hero. He was now a living legend, a symbol of the village’s very soul.

...

At the residence of Tsuchikage Ishikawa, snow was falling thick and fast outside. Inside, the halls were filled with tension as shinobi and medical personnel rushed about anxiously.

A few days ago, Tsuchikage Ishikawa had suddenly fallen ill. He had been bedridden since, his old ailments flaring up with a vengeance, repeatedly dragging him to the brink of death.

“Nanahachi... has Mū arrived yet?”

Ishikawa’s grip tightened around Nanahachi Fūma’s hand, his breathing shallow and forced.

“Tsuchikage-sama, I’ve already dispatched the ANBU to summon Mū-sama. He should arrive any moment now. Please, hang in there a little longer...”

Nanahachi’s voice was low and comforting, but worry clung to every word.

“I don’t think I’ll make it through today...”

Ishikawa’s breath came in ragged gasps, his eyes locked on the ceiling, clouded and still. Damn it. If only I hadn’t eaten that half-year-old venison. He’d rushed through the meal, didn’t cook it properly, and now a bacterial infection had wreaked havoc on his aging body. The infection had triggered a cascade of complications. If only I hadn’t touched it...

Cough cough cough...

“Where is the Tsuchikage?”

“What happened to my grandfather?!”

Just then, Mū entered with Ōnoki and several of Iwagakure’s top officials.

Brushing the snow off his cloak, Mū stepped briskly into the sickroom.

“Grandpa!”

Ōnoki dropped to his knees beside Ishikawa’s bed, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed uncontrollably.

Mū’s brow furrowed as he studied Ishikawa’s condition. The once-sturdy man now looked frail and hollow. He turned sharply to Nanahachi Fūma.

“What happened? He was perfectly fine last time we met.”

“Mū-sama, perhaps you weren’t informed. Before the last battle, the First Tsuchikage and the other Kage had a barbecue in the wilderness. Some of the meat may have been undercooked or contaminated...”

Nanahachi then scratched his head. “And Tsuchikage-sama’s age worked against him. It didn’t take much to set off all his old illnesses at once.”

Nanahachi answered with careful restraint, measuring each word.

Mū raised one brow slightly. That did explain the smell of grilled meat that had clung to the old man during their last encounter.

“Can he still be saved?” he asked in a low, steady voice.

Nanahachi hesitated, then leaned in, glancing around as he whispered, “That... depends on whether you want him to live.”

“...?”

Mū looked at him, half speechless. Why did they always assume he was some power-hungry manipulator?

“What do you mean, ‘if I let him live’? So if I say no, you’ll just let him die?”

Still, he couldn’t exactly blame them. Not entirely.

After all, the entire village was now under his control. Ishikawa had already been quietly sidelined. Subordinates like these were always trying to read between the lines, interpreting silence as permission, hesitation as intent.

“Enough. Just do what needs to be done,” Mū said flatly.

At that moment, Ishikawa’s frail voice called out from inside the room.

“Mū... Mū!”

Mū stepped in immediately. Lying weakly on the sickbed, Ishikawa gripped his hand tightly. His clouded eyes locked onto Mū’s face, filled with urgency.

“I... won’t last much longer...” he whispered. “Has Konoha been destroyed?”

Even now, hovering at death’s door, he remained concerned about the state of the war.

“Old man, Konoha still stands. I’ve already pulled back our forces. I want to focus on building the village for a while,” Mū replied softly.

Ishikawa slowly nodded, his energy draining but his mind still clear.

“Don’t stir things up needlessly. Discuss major matters with others... Let the other villages deal with Konoha. There’s no reason for our Iwa shinobi to keep spilling blood... Watch the other villages closely...

You’ve been away from the village. Some officials have been embezzling funds. Once you take over, keep your eyes on them.”

His voice was weak, but each word was steady. He was laying out his final instructions, carefully and deliberately.

Mū nodded as he listened, his expression complex as he looked down at the man who had raised Iwagakure from nothing. For all the help Ishikawa had received along the way, founding a shinobi village amidst the chaos of the era still required vision and grit. The old man truly had strength once, but that time had passed.

“Let them all come in,” Ishikawa said, glancing toward the nearby Nanahachi Fūma.

Soon, the door creaked open, and one by one, officials representing Iwagakure’s key departments, administration, economics, infrastructure, and military, filed into the room. The space, originally large and quiet, was quickly filled, and the air turned heavy.

Every individual present was a high-ranking figure within the village. Everyone knew what this moment meant.

The Tsuchikage was dying.

Under their silent gazes, Ishikawa slowly sat upright in his bed. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried with absolute clarity, filling every corner of the crowded room.

“I’ve chosen someone for you. A man whose will is unwavering and whose heart does not falter, no matter how great the burden.”

He paused, then turned his gaze to Mū.

“Mū will be the Second Tsuchikage of Iwagakure.”

There was no surprise, no commotion. Everyone had expected it. Ever since the village’s founding, Mū had been the obvious successor. His strength, leadership, and unwavering dedication had already earned the admiration and trust of the entire village.

As the declaration left Ishikawa’s lips, a deep sigh escaped him. It was the sound of a man laying down a lifelong responsibility. Slowly, he reclined once more, his eyes drifting toward the frosted window.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, thick and silent, blanketing everything in white.

A rush of emotions welled up in Ishikawa’s chest. His consciousness was slipping away, but a soft murmur escaped him.

“Iwagakure is becoming more prosperous by the day... it’s growing more vibrant... I really, really wish I could see its future...”

His fading eyes seemed to pierce through the snowfall, imagining the village in the days to come.

He saw rows of newly built homes, streets bustling with life, crowds moving through vibrant markets, commerce and community thriving in harmony.

And slowly, as the last of his strength left him, his eyelids began to close.

Ōnoki’s tears burst out uncontrollably.

“Grandfather!!”

Outside, the snow continued to fall, growing heavier with each passing moment.

…

The snow still blanketed Iwagakure like a silver robe. Flakes drifted down from the sky in a quiet, steady descent. The coffin of the First Tsuchikage, Ishikawa, was slowly drawn through the snow on a cart. Mū walked solemnly at the front, one hand gently resting on the coffin.

Residents of Iwagakure stood silently on both sides of the street, having gathered on their own to pay their respects. The entire village had fallen into a hush.

...

Three months passed, and though grief still lingered in many hearts, the sorrow of the Tsuchikage’s passing had gradually faded. Preparations for the new Tsuchikage’s inauguration had begun without delay. But this time, the ceremony was unlike any before.

Because this was not just any new leader, it was the Second Tsuchikage of Iwagakure. And he was, without question, the strongest Kage alive in the shinobi world. Slayer of Madara Uchiha. Slayer of Hashirama Senju. Mū had already made his mark with overwhelming power.

Beyond his battlefield accomplishments, he had revitalized Iwagakure’s economy by attracting outside investment and fueling prosperity. In politics, he had built a functioning administrative system and established a formal mission structure. Militarily, he founded the Anbu and formed the Iwagakure Police Force.

The people of Iwagakure placed great hopes on his shoulders. This was a day that captivated the attention of the entire village.

Beneath the towering Tsuchikage building, the roar of countless villagers and shinobi echoed in unison as Mū stepped forward slowly, clad in the robes and hat of the Tsuchikage.

“Second! Second!”

“Second-sama!! Second!!”

“Second Tuchikage-sama cut down both Hashirama and Madara, leading Iwagakure out of the chaotic era into a new age!”

“Long live the new Iwagakure era!!”

Their voices thundered across the village. Civilians and shinobi alike cheered with uncontained fervor.

Mū responded with a faint smile, then, without a word, took the Kage hat and tossed it aside.

In that instant, the roar of the crowd reached its peak, a deafening eruption that even surpassed the celebrations held when Iwagakure was first founded.

The era of the Second Tsuchikage, Mū, had officially begun.

He looked down at the cheering masses and was just about to turn away when,

“Tsuchikage-sama, you haven’t given a speech yet...” Ōnoki reminded him quietly.

Mū paused.

The entire crowd looked up at him in eager anticipation, expecting a stirring declaration, something about the Will of Stone or a guiding principle for the future.

But Mū simply smiled.

Empty slogans had never appealed to him. If he was going to speak, it would be sincere.

“Then I’ll just say this: I wish for all Iwagakure residents to be happy every day. Mūch joy, lasting peace, comfort and ease, endless longevity~...”

He said it with a calm, almost amused tone, his face still carrying that same gentle smile.

For a brief moment, silence fell across the crowd.

Then, like a wave crashing against the mountains, an earth-shaking cheer exploded from below. Some of the villagers even had tears shimmering in their eyes.