A loud thud came from the Tsuchikage's office as Rumiwa, the assistant, rushed to check on his master. The door swung open and the young man ran his eyes around the room, no significant damage had been done. A portrait of the previous Tsuchikages adorned the walls, loosely hanging sideways. Rumiwa's eyes widened as he glared at the broken table, behind which was seated Onoki, the Tsuchikage. His brows were furrowed and a vessel on his forehead flared up in rage; but upon Rumiwa's sight, the old man contained himself and assured his assistant,
"Oh, it's nothing Rumiwa. These young chaps from other villages always annoy me with their talk. You can get back to work."
"Would you like some water, lord?" Rumiwa offered with a worried glance,
"No no, it's alright, you can go back." The assistant silently nodded and closed the door behind him.
Onoki sighed and took up the letter that had been presented to him, which had caused this episode of anger. In a stylish display of disfavor, the Tsuchikage infused Earth chakra into the letter, and the paper crumpled into a thousand pieces. Folding his hands, the short kage leaned back on his chair to think in peace. These small village folk, always think they can compete with us, with Iwagakure. Now, they had allied together to form one polity, and wanted recognition as a 'sixth great nation'; he could've laughed at it, but the nature of this matter forbade it.
Undoubtedly, such letters were sent to the other villages too, seeking their recognition. He couldn't speak for everyone, but someone was to take advantage of this situation. Iwa and Kumo had been allies for a while, and he could depend on the Northerners to back the Land of Earth in any actions against this union of ruinous states. Suna is recovering from their failed attack on Konoha, so won't think much of it. Konoha too is sulking over the lives lost, and won't cooperate with Suna. Kiri had been isolated for a decade now, and nobody knew what was happening, except for unreliable rumors and stories carried by travelers.
The last significant power to be considered was the Romans, unfortunately. Spies had told him the foreigners were creating a shinobi corps of their own with help from Konoha. It assured and worried him because a shinobi corps was predictable in its tactics -it had been unchanged for the last two centuries- but it also made the Romans evermore dangerous. Onoki didn't fear invasion, Iwa had robust defenses that even Hashirama's generation couldn't breach -what can these civilians do? The Romans clung to the sea and islands, where their navy kept them supplied and offered a haven for retreat. In these fifty years, the Romans had entrenched themselves in their new holdings. Only a war could force them out, and it was inevitable.
Years of work as Tsuchikage had taught Onoki this one lesson, war was inevitable. You could postpone it, or temporarily stop it, but you couldn't prevent it. As the population and ambitions of villages grew, they came face-to-face in battle over resources. The only way to peace was a unified continent under a single government, but that too couldn't stop a war. The ambitions of men cloud their judgment.
Byzantium
Marcus took a sip of water as he sat inside a tent, a table beside him with documents, and soldiers training in the field outside. The tent was a canopy, poles fixed on four corners, and cloth tied between to provide shade. It was a hot June morning, and even in the shade, Marcus was noticeably perspiring. Wiping off the sweat with his handkerchief, the governor glanced at the soldiers. There were roughly fifty of them, out in the intense heat, sparring. Thirty-five were the traditional Roman soldiers, while fifteen were part of the new shinobi corps. This difference was depicted in their equipment and faces.
The soldiers were heavily armored, with Corinthian helmets, cylindrical shields, and short swords. The Shinobi wore black clothes, covered with plate armor on the chest and forearms; they carried double-handed swords, pouches hung from their belts carrying projectiles, bombs (both chakra and gunpowder), and medicine, while a small crossbow was tied around their backs -its bolts loaded in a small quiver strapped on their thighs.
The soldiers had a group of shinobi surrounded, their shields facing forward and ready to attack. The ninjas leaped into the air and flung smoke bombs in all directions, disabling vision and causing Marcus to cough & sneeze. Grunts and clanking could be heard as the shinobi attacked mercilessly, but the armor protected the soldiers. Men from the back hurled projectiles -javelins, arrows, crossbow bolts, and sling stones- at the shinobi. The latter pulled out their trump card, and chakra, and used a wind technique on the soldiers. Several men on the front collapsed but others stood their ground, the wind caused Marcus' tent to flutter, and when it stopped the soldiers charged their opponents.
The governor silently watched and drank from his cup, his left hand leaning on the table while the right rested on his lap. A mock battle raged outside, the soldiers calculating ways to overcome their wizard opponents, it was amusing to Marcus; much like a tournament, or a gladiator game. With a stoic expression he continued studying the fight, betraying his character with occasional smirks, raised brows, and laughs.
As this continued, a man approached Marcus from behind, it was the centurion, Janus. Marcus greeted him without turning back,
"Good morning Janus, please make yourself comfortable. I hope this is something you'd like to see." The commander obeyed and pulled a chair beside Marcus, seating himself alongside his superior. The governor offered him water, which he politely declined. After a moment of silence, Marcus spoke again,
"I am somewhat jealous of these modern legionaries, Janus." The latter turned his eye towards Marcus and asked,
"And why is that?" The governor took another sip and replied,
"I joined the army thirteen years ago, back then they didn't have such good equipment. Today I see these heavy suits of armor, shields, crossbows, muskets, cannons, and whatnot. Back in our day, we had to suffice with a shield, some armor, and a gladius." Janus chuckled and commented,
"You sound like an old man, like Severus." Marcus also chuckled and continued,
"I received a letter from the capital, the senate is debating to expand the army. They wish to form a corps of musketeers and artillery, hell, they want to change the entire system. Gaius back home says they're already changing things on the mainland, each legion is getting new equipment. A soldier will be carrying a musket or crossbow alongside the sword, it's as if weight doesn't exist for them." Janus nodded and replied,
"I think we should be allowed freedom of choice on this continent, we face different enemies here. I assaulted the turtle island with my forces in the last war; I can tell you, for every man dead, the 120 Kumo shinobi took six men with them!" Marcus nodded in agreement and replied,
"But this is still better. I've read about peasant armies that don't even have enough provisions for their men, and they wish to fight, bah!" Janus quoted in agreement,
"An army marches on its stomach." Marcus chuckled, but his mood transformed from jovial to serious as he changed the topic,
"Well, there's another matter."
"What?"
"The political situation has changed. Do you know the delicate balance of five great powers? It is now shaken with the ascent of a sixth." Janus raised an eyebrow as Marcus continued,
"I received an ambassador today who proclaimed the creation of some 'United Shinobi Confederation'. A dozen minor villages have banded together to form one state. This worries me." Janus didn't understand his superior's concern and presented his thoughts,
"Why is that? We can ally with them and cultivate good relations. This new nation controls every major nation's border, and its influence can provide tremendous political power. And besides with six great powers, alliances can even out in 3 vs 3s." Marcus politely disagreed,
"This is not a game Janus, where teams even out to provide fair play. The confederation's recent activities suggest clear hostility towards all other powers. They wish to become lone wolfs in the political world. That is a bad move, but viable for a powerful nation." Janus became impatient,
"Is there reason to be afraid?" Marcus blankly gazed at the soldiers, who were sitting on the ground to rest,
"There's reason to be cautious. Amegakure held off Iwa, Konoha, and Suna by itself during the second war; now they've combined with every other minor village, can you imagine their strength?" Janus looked down in thought, Marcus' words slowly making sense. The governor continued,
"Alert our allies, tell them to be on guard -perhaps prepare for war. Konoha is in a bad state, but nowhere near weak." Janus silently nodded and got up to leave. Marcus stopped him,
"Wait," The commander turned to hear his superior,
"Take the new Shinobi corps and a few Centuries to the USC border. I have seen them train, they'll prove valuable." Janus turned his pupils to glance at the soldiers, then quietly left.
Konoha
Maximus sat and listened attentively as a Jonin informed them why they were summoned. It was a lecture hall, designed like those Roman amphitheaters, with a stage in the middle and ascending U-shaped benches. The white-haired shinobi sat quietly, twiddling with a pencil and listening to the announcer,
"As you all know, the elders have summoned you to select twelve capable ninjas, who will receive training from lord Shigehira himself and go on to serve the Daimyo as part of the guardian 12. This is a great honor you cannot miss..." The announcer continued with the courtesies and titles trying to display this position as attractive. Maximus remained quiet and soon stopped paying attention.
The announcer's voice faded into background noise and Maximus lost track of the words until it stopped abruptly and everyone stood up. The Roman glanced up and quickly left his seat. They were the three elders and a young man, probably Shigehira Matsumae. The man wore a loose Kimono, part dragging behind him, the sleeves hiding his entire hand. The samurai signaled his subordinates to sit and ascended the stage. He addressed the shinobi with a booming voice that betrayed his quiet demeanor, and the announcer's formal voice,
"Listen up lads, I won't waste your or my time with kitty courtesies and etiquettes. The Daimyo has sent me to select the best 12 among you, train them to be absolute combat-beasts, and serve as his bodyguard. The village elders have already short-listed those with the best fighting skills -you that is. I will now talk to each of you, to see if your brain is worthy of this position as well."
The samurai made good on his words. He was going from desk to desk, eyeing the nervous candidates and bombarding them with questions. Sometimes he was satisfied, sometimes disappointed, but the interviews continued. Finally, Maximus' turn arrived. The white-haired man was somewhat nervous, trying to avoid eye contact and staring at the desk into oblivion.
"Hey young chap, I think I've heard about you. Nephew of the Roman governor, Chunin, part of the squad that killed Zabuza Momochi, and saved a princess in the Northern parts." Shigehira deliberately stressed the final words, and Maximus smiled nervously. The samurai continued,
"What are your strengths? Don't lie to me, I will check all your reports from birth till now if I need to."
"Well, my strengths are weapons, Taijutsu, strategy, and saving princesses." Maximus smiled like a fool, what was happening? This was not his character, yet those deep menacing eyes of the samurai stared into his soul.
But the joke worked, as Shigehira let out a hearty chuckle.
"Anyways, what are your affinities?"
"Fire, Earth, Lightning," Shigehira smirked and remarked,
"Multi-faceted, I like that. But what are your weaknesses?"
"Chakra, chakra reserves?" Maximus responded, the Samurai lightly thumped the desk in amusement,
"I faced the same problem. I like this one." Maximus smiled nervously, this meant he had something going.
A few questions later, Shigehira moved to glare at his neighbor, who couldn't answer; was it nervousness or fear? But whatever, he could only hope it had worked for him.
