After gathering the day's yield of gold dust and confirming the refinery was running smoothly, Rasa left without delay.
He couldn't keep letting things go on like this.
If it continued any longer…
Yashamaru might actually lose it.
Maybe it was the sweltering summer heat, or the constant tension of war. Whatever the reason, the shinobi working at the refinery were starting to act… off. The atmosphere was strange.
And then there was what he'd said earlier—
Whether it was refining gold or fighting on the front lines, it was all in service of Sunagakure's stability and peace.
Those words, tossed out in the moment, had somehow taken root.
Now even the injured—those too hurt to return to battle—were throwing themselves into refinery work with passionate fervor. In their eyes, it was just another way to uphold their duty as shinobi, another path to protect the village. They saw it as fulfilling their worth.
The problem was, they were getting a little too fired up.
Not that it was all bad. In fact, the morale boost had improved efficiency quite a bit.
But still—
This was a war.
Once their wounds healed, most of them would need to return to the battlefield. What if… what if they refused? What if they all insisted on staying behind to refine gold?
Chiyo and Ebizō would probably poison his water and get rid of him for being such a short-sighted, tone-deaf excuse of a future Kazekage.
Rasa frowned, thinking it over.
"Yashamaru's wounds are mostly healed. It's time to send him back to the front."
Yes, the battlefield was chaotic and dangerous. And yes, as his sister's fiance, Rasa did feel responsible for his brother-in-law's safety.
But someone had to go. The war wasn't going to fight itself.
He'd keep an eye on him.
With a tired sigh, Rasa stepped into his tent, splashed his face with a bit of precious water, and wiped himself down as best he could. Water was scarce—he couldn't afford to waste it like he had back on the Grass Country front.
Then his eyes fell on the familiar screen in front of him—his draw interface.
"Can I afford ten more ten-pulls now?"
Naturally, all the refined gold went to him. He was the acting commander of the front lines and the designated successor for the Fourth Kazekage. If he didn't take charge of the resources, who would?
So, in the name of protecting Sunagakure… he had no choice but to pour all the funds into this.
What? Embezzlement?
He was going to be the Fourth Kazekage. Spending a bit of money couldn't possibly count as misuse of village funds.
With another sigh, he shook his head, tapped the ten-pull button ten times in a row, and muttered, "I wonder how things are going on Momu's side…"
Meanwhile, back at the Grass Country front, the man himself was not having a good time.
"Lord Momu, it looks like Grass is preparing to retreat."
"Retreat? They dare?" Momu slammed the table and stood abruptly, glaring at the Suna shinobi in front of him. His voice turned cold. "They think they can come and go from Sunagakure's territory as they please?"
If they pulled out now…
How was Sunagakure supposed to make money?
Rasa was counting on him!
"But… Grass is out of money," the shinobi said helplessly. "Lately, before every battle, they've been hiding their funds. Some of our shinobi were even caught in traps—when they went to loot corpses, they triggered explosive tags."
So after that, strict orders were issued: no looting by hand, and no up-close inspections. Only puppet users were allowed to recover enemy bodies.
Which meant…
Puppet masters had suddenly become very popular.
"And now Iwa's shifted its main focus to Konoha and Kumo," the shinobi continued. "Only a few troops are still stationed here, probably just in case. It's not a full withdrawal yet."
After all, the war wasn't over. No one could predict what might happen. Full retreats weren't done lightly.
Momu fell silent.
Yeah… those bastards in Grass had gotten smarter.
Typical. Why were enemy shinobi even bringing money onto the battlefield in the first place? They should just embrace poverty like Suna!
That way, they wouldn't even have money to steal!
At first, Rasa's clever provocations had baited Grass into rash moves, but now…
They probably didn't even want to play with the Suna shinobi anymore.
As for Iwa—sure, there were still minor skirmishes. But ever since news broke that the Cloud Village was preparing to take on all three other nations at once, the large-scale assaults from Iwa had stopped completely.
They clearly didn't see Sunagakure as a threat.
Momu stared out into the endless desert wind, then turned to look at the pile of loot they'd managed to collect recently.
Time to send this batch over to Lord Rasa.
Meanwhile…
In Kumogakure, after the battle, Fourth Raikage A had called an emergency meeting with all the Jonin.
"Still no word on what Sunagakure is plotting?" A asked, his brow furrowed as he scanned the room.
"They're playing in the sand at a time like this… What the hell are they up to?!"
"Raikage-sama," one Jonin suggested, "maybe they know they can't win, and they're preparing to surrender?"
"No chance. They were still putting up a real fight this morning."
"Maybe it was just a token resistance? I mean, they are one of the Five Great Nations—they can't just roll over and surrender without a fight. That'd be humiliating."
"If they're one of the Five, then there's no way they'd give up so easily!"
"There's definitely a scheme behind this!"
"Even if there is, how much of a threat could it be? Can Suna even touch us?"
Come on, we're gearing up to take on all three villages at once. A little confidence never hurt anyone!
"Maybe not," another Jonin muttered, "but if they end up causing heavy casualties, it still wouldn't be worth it."
"Suna's refining sand, Kumo's tearing itself apart in meetings, and Big Bro's getting mad… Let's just fight it out already. Winner gets to decide what we do! Yeah! Awesome!"
"… … …"
Chaos erupted in the conference room.
This was Kumogakure, after all—half-naked bruisers with short fuses. It was only a matter of time before words turned into fists. Everyone was shouting over each other, tensions rising, sleeves getting rolled up—
"Silence!"
A slammed his palm onto the table, rising to his full height with a furious glare. The room fell into an uneasy hush.
Then he gestured toward the loudest instigator.
"Get that clown out of here," he growled. A squad quickly escorted Killer B out, muttering complaints about no one appreciating his freestyle.
That idiot. Can't he read the room?
Pinching the bridge of his nose, A stared at the now-quiet crowd and exhaled slowly.
"Alright. Based on your input—first, we continue investigating Rasa. Find out exactly what he's doing and why Sunagakure's messing around with sand right now."
His tone darkened.
"Second, strengthen our defenses. And escalate the assault on Suna. Let them understand—Kumogakure doesn't fear anyone's schemes."