Chapter 18: Chapter 18: The Daimyô's Announcement
The halls of the Fire Daimyō's palace were alive with the chatter of lords, ladies, and high-ranking nobles, all gathered for the seventh birthday celebration of Kenta Madoka.
According to tradition, noble children were honored at this age, marking the start of their formal education in politics, courtly etiquette, and governance. Even though their studies begin at the age of 4, age of seven was considered a landmark age due to some cultural and historic reason in the land of Fire.
The event was lavish, with silken banners, golden lanterns, and an endless feast of delicacies.
Kenta, however, was bored out of his mind.
Seated beside his older brother, Ikkyu Madoka, Kenta observed the assembled aristocrats with barely hidden disdain.
These were the same people who would fake smiles in public while plotting behind each other's backs. Their extravagant robes, flowing sleeves, and meaningless debates about wealth and status were a stark contrast to the rigorous shinobi training or well samurai training, he had been enduring.
Ikkyu, the ever-dutiful and talented future Daimyō, sat upright with grace and composure, effortlessly engaging in discussions about land disputes and merchant taxes. A true noble. Kenta, in contrast, slouched in his seat, his chin resting on his palm, eyes half-lidded with pure disinterest.
But when the Daimyō himself rose to speak, the room fell silent.
"Today, we gather not only to celebrate my grandson's seventh year but also to inform you of an important decision regarding his future."
The Fire Daimyō, a man of great stature and wisdom, commanded the attention of everyone present. His voice was steady, regal, and left no room for argument. The gathered nobles listened intently, their expressions neutral but their minds already racing with speculation.
"Kenta Madoka will not follow the path of nobility."
A wave of murmurs and whispers immediately spread across the hall. Nobles exchanged worried glances, some even gasping in disbelief.
"Instead, my grandson has chosen to walk the path of a shinobi."
A stunned silence followed. The room was thick with unspoken shock, dismay, and even a hint of fear.
Kenta, sitting with an arrogant smirk, leaned back slightly in his chair. His posture and expression made it very clear—he didn't care one bit about their opinions. As far as he was concerned, their approval was irrelevant. The only people who mattered were his family.
As expected, the nobles were not pleased.
A high-ranking lord, dressed in fine silk robes embroidered with the crest of his house, stood up and bowed respectfully before speaking.
"Your Excellency, forgive my boldness, but this decision is… highly unprecedented." His voice was careful, measured. "Nobles do not become shinobi. It would disrupt the delicate balance of power between the court and the military."
Another noble, a wealthy merchant lord, followed up.
"A noble who is also a trained shinobi would hold an unfair advantage in political dealings. Imagine a shinobi noble negotiating a trade agreement with a common noble—would that noble not fear for his life? Would he not feel compelled to agree out of fear rather than mutual benefit?"
Many in the room nodded in agreement, their whispers growing louder.
Another lord spoke up, his face creased with worry.
"Shinobi are meant to serve. If a noble is trained as one, what stops him from taking control by force? What stops him from using his power to intimidate and silence opposition?"
The room became a cacophony of debate, with voices rising in protest. Kenta, watching with mild amusement, couldn't help but think how utterly ridiculous they sounded.
Did they truly believe he would use assassination tactics just to win an argument? No, he would just use a genjutsu to trick them.
The Fire Daimyō raised his hand, and the room immediately fell silent.
"Your concerns are valid," he acknowledged, "but they have already been addressed."
The nobles leaned forward slightly, waiting for his explanation.
"Kenta will be a shinobi, yes, but he will not be granted a landed title. He will not rule over any province, nor will he hold claim to succession of the Daimyō's seat. He will retain his noble name and status, but he will have no political authority over any domain."
A collective sigh of relief rippled through the hall. The weight of tension that had built up was suddenly lessened, and the nobles visibly relaxed.
This meant Kenta would not be a threat to their power.
However, one noble, still unsatisfied, dared to speak up.
"Even without land, he is still a noble, Your Excellency." He hesitated, glancing toward Kenta's smirking face before continuing. "There is still the matter of perception. People will fear what they do not understand."
The Daimyō's expression remained unchanged, but his voice carried a finality that left no room for further debate.
"And yet, the decision stands."
His tone silenced all further objections.
"Kenta has chosen a path of duty rather than luxury. He has chosen to serve and protect the Land of Fire, rather than sit idly in a court hall counting coins. That is a decision that requires great courage, and I support my grandson wholeheartedly."
Kenta, for the first time during the entire gathering, felt something stir within him. His grandfather—the ruler of an entire nation—had just declared his full support for him in front of all the nobles.
It was a moment of validation, a moment of acknowledgment that Kenta had not expected but deeply appreciated.
The Daimyō continued.
"As part of this decision, Kenta will enroll in the Shinobi Academy in Konohagakure at the age of eight."
There was no uproar this time, only the quiet murmuring of nobles still digesting the news.
"The Academy will provide him with the training necessary to become a warrior of the Land of Fire. He will stand alongside Konoha's shinobi, not as a noble demanding protection, but as a warrior willing to fight for his home."
A few nobles actually nodded in approval at this. While they still disliked the idea of a noble becoming a shinobi, they could not deny the Daimyō's words.
Kenta was not seeking power. He was choosing duty over privilege.
Kenta allowed himself a smirk as some of the nobles kept looking at him worriedly.
The nobles had voiced their objections. They had debated, worried, and fretted over him. But in the end, they had no say.
The Daimyō had spoken. His decision was final.
Ikkyu, sitting beside him, let out a rare chuckle, shaking his head.
"You truly enjoy stirring trouble, don't you?"
Kenta grinned. "Of course. If they don't like me now, imagine how they'll feel when I graduate top of my class."
Ikkyu sighed. "Just don't start a war before I become Daimyō."
Kenta merely shrugged, his smirk still in place.
The shinobi path awaited him.
-----------Author Notes---------
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