Chapter 522: A Mirror Made for War (Patreon)

Previously

Alaric's Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan formed, its pattern rotating as the pressure around him climbed beyond anything Madara had felt during the Kage Summit.

His smile became manic.

"Finally…"

The broken sky above them folded beneath the weight of his chakra.

"A fight where I'm tested to the limits…"

Now — Unknown Sealed Dimension

Alaric vanished before the final word left his mouth.

Madara's Rinnegan followed the displacement, though his body reacted before sight could become thought.

A fist drove toward his ribs.

Madara turned his hip, lowered his elbow, and caught Alaric's forearm against the reinforced edge of his own. The collision sent a circular depression through the ground beneath them, flattening the broken ridge for hundreds of meters.

Alaric's knuckles stopped a finger's width from Madara's side.

Madara's palm was already moving.

He struck toward Alaric's throat, twisting his wrist at the final instant so the heel of his hand would crush the larynx while his fingers continued toward the jaw.

Alaric leaned backward, letting the strike pass just above his chin.

Madara stepped into the opening, driving his knee toward Alaric's abdomen, but Alaric's foot slid between Madara's legs before the attack could rise fully. His shin pressed against the inside of Madara's supporting knee, shifting the joint just enough to break the line of force.

Madara's balance changed.

Alaric's shoulder drove into his chest with crushing force.

BOOOOOOM!

The impact hurled Madara across the plain.

His body tore through three dimensional pillars before he corrected himself in midair, planted one foot against the fourth, and bent the ancient structure beneath him. Cracks spread around his heel while he watched Alaric emerge from the debris cloud.

Alaric did not pursue along the ground.

He appeared directly above Madara, coat trailing behind him as his heel descended.

Madara released the pillar and moved aside.

Alaric's foot passed beside his shoulder.

BOOOOM!

The structure beneath them collapsed before the strike touched it.

The entire pillar folded into the ground, carrying a mountain of black stone beneath the surface. A shockwave rolled outward and lifted the remains of the previous battlefield into the artificial sky.

Madara landed upon a tumbling slab.

Alaric landed opposite him.

The slab spun between streams of shattered rock, yet neither man allowed the unstable footing to disturb his stance.

Madara's right hand moved first, two fingers flicking toward Alaric's eyes.

Alaric turned his face aside and caught Madara's wrist. His other hand rose toward the elbow, intending to drive the joint backward while pulling the wrist forward.

Madara relaxed his arm before the lock could settle.

His shoulder rotated with the pressure, allowing the entire limb to travel through the motion Alaric had imposed. He stepped closer rather than resisting, then drove his forehead toward Alaric's nose.

Alaric released the wrist.

Their foreheads collided.

A deep sound passed through the slab.

Neither moved.

Madara's living skull absorbed the impact, and pain flashed across the center of his face. Blood warmed one nostril. The sensation reached him with enough clarity to sharpen his grin.

Alaric's expression mirrored it.

Madara hooked his foot behind Alaric's ankle, but Alaric lifted the leg before the sweep could take it and immediately drove his knee toward Madara's chest.

Madara caught the thigh beneath one arm.

Alaric jumped from his remaining foot, twisting in the grip as his free heel arced toward Madara's temple.

Madara ducked beneath it as the heel passed through his hair, its wake splitting the tumbling slab beneath them.

Black stone separated into two halves, but the fighters remained between them for another breath, suspended by the speed of their exchange before gravity began pulling the fragments apart.

Madara released Alaric's leg.

Both fell.

They struck each other before reaching the ground.

Madara's fist crossed Alaric's cheek.

Alaric's palm crashed into Madara's sternum.

The two impacts landed so closely that the dimension answered with one thunderous detonation.

KRAAAAAA—BOOOOOOOOOOM!

Alaric flew east while Madara flew west.

Two trenches opened across the black plain as their bodies carved through the surface. Stone rose behind them in towering curtains, each dense enough to bury an army before the trailing pressure pulverized it into dust.

Madara stopped first.

His fingers sank into the ground, dragging for several hundred feet until the force finally bled away. He rose from the trench and pressed one hand against his chest.

The center of his sternum had caved inward.

Several ribs had shattered beneath Alaric's palm, and one fragment had pierced the upper portion of his left lung. Blood gathered behind his teeth as the incomplete Ten-Tails pushed chakra toward the injury.

Madara inhaled carefully.

The damaged lung resisted.

The pain reached through his chest each time the bone shifted.

He laughed under his breath.

Pale tissue formed around the broken ribs. The fragments pulled backward, scraping through living flesh as they returned to their proper positions. His sternum expanded with a wet crack before sealing beneath the chakra robes.

The regeneration worked.

It lacked the smooth immediacy he had expected.

The incomplete Ten-Tails possessed enough vitality to rebuild nearly any wound, yet the tailed-beast chakras still fought one another during the process. Some poured toward his damaged chest, while others attempted to reinforce organs that had not been touched. The conflict created waste and delayed the restoration by several seconds.

Several seconds could decide a battle against Alaric.

Madara wiped the blood from his mouth.

Across the ruined landscape, Alaric emerged from his own trench.

The imprint of Madara's fist remained upon his cheek. The skin had split near the corner of his mouth, and the impact had displaced his jaw slightly.

Alaric placed one hand against it.

A small movement followed.

CRACK.

The jaw returned to place.

He rolled his neck, then looked toward Madara.

Neither spoke before they vanished together, the center of the battlefield collapsing in their wake.

BOOOOOOM!

Their fists met above the crater.

Madara felt Alaric's knuckles shift against his own at the point of collision. The motion was subtle, redirecting the impact toward the smaller bones of Madara's hand while preserving the alignment of Alaric's wrist.

Madara adjusted at the same moment.

Their fists slid past one another.

Alaric's elbow came forward, and Madara's rose to meet it; the impact fractured the air around them.

Madara turned through the collision and sent a backfist toward Alaric's temple. Alaric stepped inside the arc, pressed one forearm against Madara's bicep, and drove three short punches into his ribs.

The first broke Madara's guard.

The second sank into the muscles between his ribs.

The third carried enough force to twist his entire torso.

Madara allowed the rotation to continue, his left heel rising with it.

Alaric saw the kick and brought both arms together.

Madara's heel struck the guard.

The blow bent Alaric's body sideways and launched him through the crater wall.

Madara followed before the debris settled.

He entered the tunnel Alaric's body had created, moving through darkness filled with broken stone. His Rinnegan saw Alaric brace one hand against the wall ahead and redirect his momentum.

Madara raised both arms.

Alaric kicked from the stone.

His heel slammed into Madara's crossed forearms.

The tunnel widened around them as the force tore the ceiling apart.

Madara's bones groaned beneath the pressure as Alaric pushed harder.

The ground above them lifted in a vast circular plate.

Madara's feet dragged backward through the tunnel floor while Alaric remained extended in front of him, driving the kick with the strength of his entire body.

Madara lowered one arm.

Alaric's heel slipped across his shoulder.

Before the leg could withdraw, Madara trapped it between his neck and forearm.

His hand closed around Alaric's ankle.

Madara pulled him closer and drove a fist toward his chest.

Alaric twisted in the air, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow as Madara's fist missed his heart and instead slammed into the muscles beneath his shoulder.

Madara felt bone break.

Alaric's left arm went loose.

Madara tightened his grip on the ankle and swung him into the tunnel wall.

Alaric struck stone hard enough to create a second passage.

Madara swung again.

The wall vanished beneath the impact.

A third swing followed, though Alaric moved before his body could strike.

His free foot caught Madara beneath the jaw.

Madara's head snapped upward.

Alaric rotated around the captured leg, using Madara's grip as the center of his movement. His functioning hand pressed against Madara's wrist while his heel remained beneath the jaw.

He pulled in opposite directions.

Madara's grip broke.

Alaric landed behind him and drove the point of his elbow into the base of Madara's skull.

BANG.

The world flashed white.

Madara's living body dropped through the tunnel floor.

He struck a deeper layer of stone, continued through it, then crashed into a hollow chamber buried beneath the dimensional plain.

Alaric descended after him.

His broken shoulder shifted while he fell. Muscle tightened around the damaged joint, and heat gathered beneath the skin as Eros began restoring the injury. The bone pulled together before he reached the bottom.

Madara saw the healing complete.

He pushed himself upright.

Blood ran from the back of his head, disappearing beneath his hair before the Ten-Tails sealed the wound.

Alaric landed several paces away.

Madara attacked immediately.

Their exchange resumed within the buried chamber.

There was no room for broad movements.

The ceiling hung less than twenty feet above them, and thick stone columns divided the hollow space into narrow passages. The restriction should have slowed them.

Instead, it refined the violence.

Madara's fist passed beside Alaric's ribs and shattered a column.

Alaric used the falling stone as concealment, stepped through the dust, and drove his fingertips beneath Madara's lower rib.

Madara tightened the muscles before the strike penetrated deeply enough to reach the liver. He trapped Alaric's wrist beneath his elbow, then struck the side of his neck.

Alaric rolled with the blow and answered with a short hook.

Madara leaned away by less than an inch.

The knuckles brushed his nose.

His knee rose toward Alaric's groin, forcing Alaric to turn his hip and intercept it with his thigh. Madara's foot touched the ground for only a fraction of a second before he used the same leg to stamp upon Alaric's knee.

Alaric shifted his weight, causing the stamp to miss the joint.

His palm struck Madara's chin.

Madara's teeth slammed together.

He caught Alaric's sleeve, stepped behind his leg, and threw him toward a column.

Alaric reversed the grip while airborne.

Madara was pulled with him.

Both men struck the column from opposite sides.

It exploded between their bodies.

They emerged through the debris already attacking.

Fists, elbows, knees, palms, shoulders, and heels crossed through spaces too narrow for ordinary sight to separate. Every movement contained several purposes. A missed punch became a frame against the shoulder. A blocked kick became a hook behind the knee. A retreating step placed the foot upon an angle from which the next attack could draw power.

Neither wasted motion.

Neither granted distance.

Madara began to understand why the exchange felt familiar.

Alaric did not fight like Hashirama.

Hashirama's taijutsu had carried the same overwhelming vitality as his Wood Release. He accepted collisions because his body could endure them, then imposed enough strength to destroy the opponent's structure through direct force. Even his finer movements carried an openness that reflected the man himself.

Tobirama had fought through calculation and ruthless efficiency. He created distance, gathered information, and exploited weaknesses before the enemy realized they had been revealed.

Might Guy had pursued absolute physical refinement, turning practiced forms into power so direct that technique and will became indistinguishable.

Alaric resembled none of them.

He fought as Madara fought.

The realization entered between strikes.

Alaric's foot slid outside Madara's stance at the same angle Madara would have chosen. His shoulder concealed the beginning of a hand strike that Madara had used throughout the clan wars. When Madara changed rhythm to provoke a premature defense, Alaric withheld his reaction and attacked through the false opening.

Madara blocked a palm aimed toward his ear.

Alaric blocked Madara's identical counter.

Their forearms pressed together.

Both shifted their wrists.

Both attempted the same trap.

The movements canceled one another.

For a fraction of a second, they stood chest to chest with their arms locked between them.

Madara's grin widened.

He drove his forehead forward.

Alaric did the same.

Their skulls collided.

The buried chamber disappeared around them.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The ceiling erupted upward.

Black stone rose through every layer they had crossed, forming a column of debris that pierced the surface and continued toward the fractured sky. The dimensional barrier flickered as millions of tons of rock struck it from below.

Madara and Alaric emerged from the center of the destruction.

They traded blows while ascending through the debris.

Madara struck Alaric's abdomen.

Alaric answered against his ribs.

Madara caught a kick and drove his elbow into the thigh.

Alaric struck the side of his knee and forced the joint inward.

The Ten-Tails repaired the damage while Madara used the bent leg to hook Alaric's waist.

Alaric placed both hands against Madara's shoulders and pushed himself free, somersaulting through the cloud before landing upon an airborne slab.

Madara landed across from him.

Blood ran from Alaric's lower lip.

Madara's left eye had swollen around the Rinnegan before pale chakra reduced the inflammation.

They stared at one another across the stone.

The slab rotated slowly beneath them.

Madara laughed.

The sound carried genuine pleasure.

"You really are strange."

Alaric wiped the blood from his lip with his thumb. "That is a mild way of putting it."

Madara lowered his stance.

"When Hashirama and I fought, I always knew which movements belonged to him. Even when he surprised me, the decision reflected something I could never mistake for my own."

Alaric's eyes remained fixed upon him.

"You do not offer me that distinction."

Madara stepped forward.

The slab broke beneath his foot.

"You attack from the angles I would choose. You accept damage when the exchange favors you. You alter rhythm when patience becomes more dangerous than aggression."

Alaric met him at the center.

Their palms struck.

A ring of force tore the rotating slab apart.

Madara's fingers closed around Alaric's wrist.

Alaric caught his in return.

They turned together, each attempting to break the other's balance through the same hip rotation. Their feet shifted over empty space, using fragments of stone too small to support an ordinary body.

Madara released first.

His elbow struck Alaric's jaw.

Alaric's knee entered Madara's stomach.

Both folded around the blows, then attacked again before either could be thrown away.

Madara blocked three punches.

The fourth touched his chest.

He redirected it with his palm and drove his shoulder into Alaric's collarbone.

Alaric allowed himself to move backward, caught the front of Madara's robes, and pulled him into a rising knee.

Madara turned his head just enough that the knee scraped his cheek instead of breaking his face, and he answered with a hook toward Alaric's liver.

Alaric tightened his abdomen and took the blow.

Madara felt the organs shift beneath his knuckles.

Alaric smiled through the pain as his hand closed around the back of Madara's neck.

Madara's hand did the same.

They pulled each other forward.

Their knees collided between them.

The impact broke both kneecaps.

Madara's regeneration began immediately.

Heat flooded Alaric's legs as Eros restored the damage.

Neither withdrew.

They continued fighting while the bones repaired themselves.

Madara's laughter deepened.

"I thought you were just copying me with the Sharingan, but no... this is like fighting my own reflection!"

Alaric slipped beneath a straight punch and struck Madara beneath the ribs.

Madara's body lifted several feet.

He brought both hands down against Alaric's shoulders, forcing him toward the ground while using the impact to arrest his own ascent.

Alaric caught himself upon one hand as his legs spun horizontally.

Madara blocked the first heel.

The second struck his forearm.

The third changed direction midway and caught him across the throat.

Madara flew through a field of debris.

Alaric pushed from the air itself, crossed the distance, and appeared above him with both hands clasped.

Madara raised his forearms.

Alaric's descending strike crashed into the guard.

The force launched Madara downward.

He struck the ground feet first, his legs sinking to the thighs as the plain collapsed around him.

Alaric descended through the expanding crater.

Madara tore himself free and met him with an uppercut.

Alaric twisted aside, caught the arm beneath his own, and drove his elbow toward Madara's spine.

Madara turned before it landed.

His free hand seized Alaric's coat and he pulled.

Alaric used the momentum to strike him with the crown of his head.

Madara's nose broke.

Blood burst across both their faces.

Madara responded with a headbutt of his own, splitting Alaric's brow.

They struck each other again.

Then again.

Each impact spread through the crater until the remaining ground gave way beneath them.

Madara's hand closed around Alaric's throat.

Alaric's fingers pressed beneath Madara's jaw.

Madara tightened his grip.

Alaric rotated his thumb against a nerve near Madara's ear.

The Ten-Tails reinforced the area.

Madara shifted his head and drove his knee upward.

Alaric blocked it with his shin.

Madara's Rinnegan studied every correction.

Alaric's Eternal Mangekyō watched every adjustment.

The resemblance became impossible to dismiss.

Madara had spent his life adapting to opponents while forcing them into battles that favored his instincts. He did not worship rigid forms. He took whatever movement worked, reshaped it, then discarded it the moment another choice became superior.

Alaric possessed the same absence of attachment.

He could use a refined Uchiha interception, follow it with a brutal shoulder strike, then abandon both for an inelegant stomp when the opening appeared. He fought to dominate the exchange rather than preserve the beauty of any school.

Madara had never encountered anyone whose physical instincts reflected his own so completely.

The discovery pleased him.

It also irritated him.

A mirror should have followed.

Alaric continued creating angles Madara would have created himself, though he sometimes chose them a fraction earlier.

Madara changed his rhythm, and Alaric changed with him.

Madara slowed one hand to conceal the speed of the other.

Alaric used the same deception during the next exchange.

Their fists crossed and struck each other's faces.

Madara's cheek split.

Alaric's eye darkened.

Both slid backward across the ruined plain.

They stopped several hundred meters apart.

The sealed dimension had changed beyond recognition.

The black plain had become a network of craters and bottomless fractures. Every dimensional pillar within sight had collapsed. The artificial silver sphere hung in pieces across the sky, each fragment reflecting a different section of the battlefield.

The barrier lines above them pulsed irregularly.

Dust drifted through the ruined landscape.

Madara's chest rose and fell.

The breath was unnecessary for chakra, yet his living body demanded it after the sustained exchange. Sweat formed along his brow and passed beside his Rinnegan. Several muscles remained torn beneath the pale robes while the incomplete Ten-Tails struggled to decide which wound deserved priority.

His heart struck harder.

The sound no longer distracted him.

It had become part of the battle's rhythm.

Across from him, Alaric's breathing had deepened as well.

His Vanguard coat hung open, its left sleeve torn near the shoulder. Blood covered one side of his face, though the wounds beneath it were already closing. His gloves had split across the knuckles.

Madara looked at him closely.

Alaric had released more power throughout the fight.

The change had arrived gradually, hidden beneath each exchange. His speed had increased after the buried chamber collapsed. His physical strength had risen again after Madara described the resemblance between them. The chakra reinforcing his body now pressed against the dimension with enough force to distort the dust around him.

Yet Madara sensed that another restraint remained.

Alaric rolled one shoulder.

"You heal slower than I expected."

Madara touched the blood beneath his nose.

"The beast is incomplete."

"That is not the only problem."

"No." Madara glanced toward the markings over his chest. "Its parts still remember that they were separate."

Alaric smiled. "And they dislike you."

"They will learn obedience."

"Assuming I leave enough of you intact to teach them."

Madara laughed as his Truth-Seeking Orbs shifted behind him, though he did not reach for them.

Alaric noticed, and the grin on his face softened into curiosity.

Madara looked across the devastation they had created with their bodies alone.

He had tested his restored muscles.

He had measured the Ten-Tails' regeneration.

He had felt bones break, organs tear, blood leave his body, and strength return through a creature that resisted his command with every wound.

More importantly, he had found an opponent who answered his physical instincts with the same ruthless adaptability.

The taijutsu had satisfied the first hunger awakened by his resurrection.

Another remained.

Madara straightened.

The pale chakra robes settled around him while his breathing returned to a steady rhythm.

"I believe we have learned enough from using our bodies alone."

Alaric's eyes narrowed with amusement.

Madara lifted one hand.

The air around his fingers began to tremble, and the broken fragments of the artificial sky reflected the violet rings of his Rinnegan.

His smile widened.

"Why don't we use ninjutsu now?"