Chapter 205 (Patreon)

It was over. Everything was over.

As the smoke blanketing the battlefield gradually dispersed, Ōnoki hovered in the air and stared down at the devastation below. The once-familiar terrain had been torn apart, leaving nothing but scorched earth and an enormous crater.

Only one thought remained in his mind.

The vanguard was finished.

Ōnoki had no idea how many shinobi had survived that colossal Tailed Beast Bomb, but one thing was certain: the Allied Shinobi Forces’ vanguard had been crippled.

“ROAR!”

Standing amid Konoha’s formation, the Nine-Tails raised its head and unleashed a triumphant roar. Clearly satisfied with the destruction caused by its Tailed Beast Bomb, it glared proudly at Ōnoki in the sky.

Ōnoki stared back at the strongest of the tailed beasts.

After a brief hesitation, he abandoned any thought of engaging it.

His most important task now was to inform the forces behind him that Konoha possessed a perfect Nine-Tails jinchūriki.

Once he made his decision, Ōnoki wasted no more time. He turned and flew back in the direction from which he had come.

There was something deeply wrong with Konoha.

Remaining here any longer would be asking for trouble.

The Allied Shinobi Forces’ second division was positioned a little over ten miles behind the vanguard. This distance had been maintained at Ōnoki’s insistence.

Although the Third Raikage had persuaded him to launch a full-scale offensive and advance with the speed of a blitzkrieg, Ōnoki’s cautious nature had compelled him to divide their force of more than five thousand shinobi into three divisions and have them advance in separate waves.

The outcome had proven that his caution was justified.

Because of that decision, the alliance had managed to preserve most of its fighting strength.

Against a Tailed Beast Bomb of that size, there was little difference between an army of two thousand and one of five thousand. If they had all been gathered in one place, the entire force might have been wiped out in a single attack.

Even with the Third Raikage’s assistance, Ōnoki could not guarantee that they would have prevented the Nine-Tails jinchūriki from launching the attack.

Konoha still had two Kage-level shinobi on the battlefield: Jiraiya and Homura Mitokado.

The two of them might not have been able to defeat Ōnoki and the Third Raikage together, but they were more than capable of holding them back long enough for the jinchūriki to prepare a Tailed Beast Bomb.

Konoha simply had too many powerful shinobi.

Worse still, its forces were spread across several generations. The village showed no sign of suffering from any shortage of talent.

When Ōnoki thought about the seemingly endless stream of exceptional shinobi emerging from Konoha, along with its young leader who had already earned the title of God of Shinobi, despair began to creep into his heart.

“Lord Tsuchikage, what happened up ahead?”

The Third Raikage had been leading the alliance’s second division when he sensed the shock wave from the distant explosion, along with the terrifying chakra that had accompanied it.

Ōnoki descended from the sky with an exceptionally grim expression.

“Konoha has deployed the Nine-Tails jinchūriki,” he said. “And she is a perfect jinchūriki.”

“What happened to the vanguard?”

The Third Raikage’s expression immediately changed.

He had personally suppressed the Eight-Tails whenever it went on a rampage, so he understood better than most how destructive a tailed beast could be.

Each of the Eight-Tails’ rampages had brought devastating losses to Kumogakure. If that was what the Eight-Tails was capable of, how much destruction could the Nine-Tails—the strongest of them all—cause on a battlefield?

There was no need to consider the question for long.

The thunderous explosion, the shock wave that had reached them from more than ten miles away, and the sight of Ōnoki returning alone had already given him the answer.

“I ordered everyone to retreat,” Ōnoki said. “The Earth Style users did what they could to protect the others, but…”

He paused, then shook his head heavily.

“We still don’t know how many survived.”

“This wasn’t your fault. Our first priority is gathering whoever remains.”

Instead of erupting in anger as he normally might have, the Third Raikage became unnervingly calm.

“Everyone, listen carefully! All shinobi of chūnin rank or higher will follow me to the Land of Fire’s border. We’re rescuing the vanguard!”

He then turned toward Ōnoki.

“Lord Tsuchikage, remain here and command the rear divisions. If anything happens on the front line, the remaining forces will be in your hands.”

The Third Raikage could see that Ōnoki had been deeply shaken and was beginning to question himself. For that reason, he chose to leave the Tsuchikage behind for the time being.

After giving his orders, the Third Raikage immediately departed with the alliance’s elite shinobi, rushing toward the border of the Land of Fire.

Ōnoki remained where he was and watched the Third Raikage disappear into the distance.

Almost instinctively, he reached into his clothes and withdrew the small stone he always carried. Years of handling it had polished its surface until it was perfectly smooth.

Had Ōnoki lost heart?

Yes—and no.

The colossal Tailed Beast Bomb had indeed been terrifying enough to scatter the vanguard with a single strike, but Ōnoki did not believe that he was incapable of fighting the Nine-Tails jinchūriki.

If they truly fought to the end, it was difficult to say who would emerge victorious.

What disturbed him far more was a question that had tormented the other great villages for generations.

Why did Konoha always have so many talented shinobi?

Iwagakure placed tremendous importance on educating its younger generation. In terms of unity, Ōnoki believed that his village stood above all the other great shinobi villages.

Thanks to that unity and Iwagakure’s considerable investment in training its youth, the village had produced many talented shinobi.

Yet it still could not compare to Konoha.

They were doing the same things. In some respects, Iwagakure was working even harder. Nevertheless, the results remained painfully unequal.

Anyone in Ōnoki’s position would have found that difficult to accept.

Was Konoha truly a village favored by fate?

Why did one exceptional shinobi after another continue to appear there?

It made no sense.

That was what frustrated Ōnoki more than anything else.

At the same time, he began reconsidering another question.

Would the Third Raikage’s strategy lead all of them to their deaths?

The Third Raikage’s original plan had sounded reasonable. By using the superior mobility of Kumogakure’s forces, they would launch rapid attacks across the Land of Fire and force Kizaru—Konoha’s fastest and most mobile shinobi—to respond personally.

Once Kizaru was separated from the village, the strongest shinobi from the three allied villages would gather and surround him.

Ōnoki had been persuaded by the Third Raikage’s passionate arguments.

Now, however, the Nine-Tails’ attack had struck him hard enough to clear his head.

What if Konoha was willing to endure the destruction within the Land of Fire?

What if, instead of dividing its forces to defend every settlement, Konoha gathered all its strongest shinobi and launched a united counterattack?

The Three Elders of Konoha were still at the height of their strength.

The Sannin had only recently entered their prime.

There was also Konoha’s White Fang, the perfect Nine-Tails jinchūriki, the new God of Shinobi, Kizaru, and the two tailed beasts Kizaru had subdued.

With a force like that, Konoha was fully capable of annihilating the entire Allied Shinobi Forces in a single battle.

The realization made Ōnoki’s blood run cold.

The Third Raikage’s plan could no longer be carried out.

If they continued stubbornly along the same path, there would be nothing waiting for them except death.

Ōnoki could accept dying in battle. He could sacrifice himself for Iwagakure without hesitation.

But his death—and the deaths of the shinobi who had followed him—had to mean something.

If sacrificing their lives could bring down Kizaru and eliminate Konoha’s younger generation of powerful shinobi, Ōnoki would consider it an acceptable price. It might even be called a worthwhile exchange.

But if he and his shinobi died without inflicting any meaningful damage on Konoha, then their sacrifices would be entirely pointless.

Ōnoki’s expression became increasingly conflicted as he gazed in the direction the Third Raikage had gone.

Then, from the darkest corner of his mind, a dangerous thought began to take shape.

If I turn on Kumogakure now, could I earn Konoha’s forgiveness?

Could Iwagakure restore its former alliance with Konoha?

The instant that thought emerged, it began whispering endlessly in the back of his mind.

Ōnoki knew the consequences.

Betraying Kumogakure would destroy Iwagakure’s credibility with the other villages and nations. It would also allow Konoha to become even more dominant than it already was.

Even so, he could not stop himself from considering the possibility.

If Konoha could guarantee the territorial integrity of the Land of Earth, preserve Iwagakure’s autonomy, and respect its basic diplomatic interests, then forming a close alliance with Konoha might not be unacceptable.

On the front line at the Land of Fire’s border, the elite shinobi of the alliance continued battling Konoha’s forces while the Third Raikage searched for survivors.

He had no idea that one of his closest allies was already considering whether to betray him.

The Third Raikage should have considered himself fortunate that information from the Land of Fire’s eastern front had yet to reach Ōnoki.

If the Tsuchikage learned that Konoha had summoned the First Hokage back through the Impure World Reincarnation, that alone might be enough to make him reach an immediate decision.

After all, if Orochimaru could summon the First Hokage, what was stopping him from bringing back even more of Konoha’s deceased powerhouses?

The very idea was absurd.

When the other villages fought Konoha, they were not merely forced to face its living shinobi. Konoha could apparently summon its ancestors from the Pure Land and have them join the battle as well.

How was anyone supposed to fight a village like that?

It was utterly unfair!

The shinobi fighting on the eastern front felt much the same way.

The Fourth Mizukage, Karatachi Yagura, and the Kirigakure shinobi who recognized the First Hokage could barely contain their frustration.

Even though Senju Hashirama possessed only around half the strength he had wielded while alive, the former God of Shinobi had ended the battle almost entirely on his own.

Wood Style: Deep Forest Emergence had instantly transformed the battlefield.

The beaches and low jungles that had previously dominated the surrounding terrain disappeared beneath an enormous forest. Giant roots and branches erupted from the earth, forcing the combatants apart and restraining shinobi from both sides.

Hashirama carefully controlled the Wood Style technique, separating the Konoha and Kirigakure forces before binding them in different areas.

He did not kill the Kirigakure shinobi.

For the moment, he was merely stopping the war.

This was not because Senju Hashirama was naïve or too softhearted to kill his enemies.

He had survived the brutal Warring States Period, fought countless battles, and eventually established the shinobi village system. When necessary, he had never hesitated to strike down an enemy.

The only reason he had temporarily spared Kirigakure’s forces was what he had learned about Uchiha Madara.

From Hashirama’s perspective, Kirigakure might also be a victim of this war—a village manipulated and deceived by Madara from the shadows.

Nor was this merely speculation.

Hashirama had discovered traces of genjutsu within Yagura and several other Kirigakure shinobi.

Just as Madara had once used his Sharingan to control the Nine-Tails, he had apparently placed Kirigakure’s highest-ranking shinobi under genjutsu and secretly used them to instigate this war.

Hashirama had never specialized in genjutsu, much less seriously trained in it.

He merely possessed enough resistance to withstand genjutsu cast by Madara’s Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.

His method of breaking another person’s genjutsu was equally direct.

First, he informed the affected Kirigakure shinobi that they were trapped in a genjutsu and instructed them to form the release seal. Then he sent his own enormous chakra into their bodies, forcibly disrupting the foreign chakra controlling their senses.

The method lacked subtlety, but it was remarkably effective.

With Hashirama’s assistance, all the Kirigakure shinobi affected by the genjutsu—including the Fourth Mizukage—were freed from its control.

Yagura sat motionlessly upon a thick tree trunk.

He had made no attempt to resist. Once the genjutsu was lifted, he simply remained there, staring blankly ahead.

During the early stages of their association, Uchiha Madara had indeed controlled Yagura through genjutsu.

Later, however, the death of Yagura’s wife and Madara’s relentless manipulation gradually drove him to accept the Eye of the Moon Plan. Eventually, he had joined Madara of his own “free will.”

Of course, calling that decision voluntary was questionable at best.

Madara’s genjutsu had never completely stopped influencing him. Furthermore, the death of Yagura’s wife—the very event Madara had used to break down his will—had also been secretly orchestrated by Madara.

In the end, Karatachi Yagura was nothing more than a victim whose entire life had been manipulated by Uchiha Madara.

Now, as Yagura sat there in a daze, confusion and anguish repeatedly crossed his face.

With Hashirama’s help, he had finally broken free from Madara’s lingering influence. Memories from the years he had spent under Madara’s control began returning in fragmented pieces.

Yagura had risen to become one of the Five Kage. He was certainly no fool.

As those scattered memories resurfaced, he began noticing inconsistencies he had previously overlooked.

Why had Madara found it so easy to manipulate and indoctrinate him?

Had his wife truly died because of an unexpected attack during a mission?

The more Yagura examined his memories, the more suspicious details he uncovered.

His rise as the youngest Mizukage and even his wife’s death might both have been parts of a conspiracy arranged by Uchiha Madara.

Yagura felt as though his mind were being torn in two.

Two conflicting voices echoed through his thoughts.

One told him that Uchiha Madara had been right. Only Madara’s plan could bring true peace to the world. Once it succeeded, Yagura would be reunited with his wife in a world of dreams, where they could return to the happy life they had once shared.

The other voice told him that Madara had used him from the beginning.

Madara was the true culprit behind his wife’s death, and Yagura had spent the past several years struggling inside a web that Madara had woven around him.

“Ah!”

Yagura clutched his head and groaned in agony.

“Lord First, what’s wrong with him?” Danzō asked, standing beside Hashirama as he watched Yagura collapse in pain.

“Madara’s genjutsu influenced him too deeply,” Hashirama replied. “He’ll need time before he can think clearly again.”

Hashirama looked down at the suffering young Mizukage with a complicated expression.

What was Madara planning?

Madara had once pursued peace just as fervently as he had. Why would he commit such terrible acts now?

Had that man truly fallen so far?

Hashirama’s hands clenched into fists, and a trace of killing intent flickered through his eyes.

To Senju Hashirama, Konoha was something he had sworn to protect.

Peace was the dream he had pursued throughout his life.

And Uchiha Madara had once been the comrade who shared that dream with him.

When Danzō told him that Madara was still alive, Hashirama’s first reaction had been joy.

He was glad that his friend had survived their final battle.

He was glad that Madara still lived somewhere in this world.

Aside from learning that Konoha had continued to flourish, Madara’s survival had been the best news Hashirama had received since being summoned.

Now, however, it seemed that Madara’s survival might not have been good news at all.

The comrade who had once shared his ideals and pursued peace alongside him might have lost his way. Perhaps he had gone mad and allowed his ideals to twist into something monstrous.

Why was he secretly manipulating villages and creating wars?

What in the world was that bastard Madara trying to accomplish?

“Danzō,” Hashirama said calmly, folding his arms across his chest. “Tell me everything you know about Madara.”

At that moment, Hashirama made a decision.

If his friend had truly strayed from the proper path, then Hashirama would stop him before returning to the Pure Land—even if he had to drag that bastard back with him.

Faced with the First Hokage’s demand, Danzō neither hesitated nor concealed anything. He revealed every piece of information he possessed about Uchiha Madara.

From Danzō’s explanation, Hashirama learned that Madara had survived their final battle by using the Uchiha clan’s forbidden technique, Izanagi.

He also learned how Madara had eventually revealed himself.

Madara had wanted to test whether Danzō’s nephew, Shimura Kizaru—the current Hokage of Konoha—was truly worthy of being called the new God of Shinobi.

“Ha ha ha! Your nephew is incredible!” Hashirama exclaimed after hearing that Kizaru had defeated Madara’s Susanoo at only ten years old. “He might be even more remarkable than Madara and I were at that age!”

The First Hokage’s enthusiastic praise delighted Danzō.

Kizaru’s achievements had always been a source of immense pride for him.

“So Kizaru, the village’s Fourth Hokage, is deliberately refraining from taking action because he wants to use this war to expose Madara’s conspiracy,” Hashirama concluded after hearing the full story.

“Yes,” Danzō answered firmly. “Kizaru has always suspected that Uchiha Madara is planning something in the shadows.”

Hashirama nodded before sitting cross-legged on the tree trunk. Resting his chin on one hand, he fell into deep thought.

Danzō did not interrupt him. He merely stood nearby with Orochimaru and waited in silence.

No one knew how much time had passed before Hashirama finally raised his head.

He placed both hands on his thighs and spoke with absolute certainty.

“Madara must have discovered some method of using his own power to force peace upon the entire world.”

Danzō and Orochimaru both looked surprised by his conclusion.

Uchiha Madara had seized control of Kirigakure from the shadows and deliberately provoked a war, yet he supposedly wanted to bring peace to the world?

If that qualified someone as a champion of peace, then Danzō and Kizaru might as well have been saints.

“Yes. Uchiha Madara called it the Eye of the Moon Plan.”

The person who spoke was Yagura.

As time passed, his thoughts had gradually become clearer. Still holding his head with one hand, he continued in a quiet, strained voice.

“He intends to project his ocular power onto the moon and trap everyone in the world within a genjutsu. He wants to create a dream in which no one ever loses and everyone’s wishes come true.”

The expressions on Danzō’s and Orochimaru’s faces immediately became strange.

Then their surprise turned to open contempt.

Trap the entire world inside an illusion?

Create a false peace by forcing everyone to live inside their dreams?

Perhaps such a plan would appeal to cowards who wanted to escape from reality.

Neither Danzō nor Orochimaru was such a person.

To them, Madara’s grand plan was nothing more than a delusion.

“That fool Madara has completely lost his mind!”

Hashirama abruptly rose to his feet, his expression more serious than ever.

“I have to stop him.”

“Lord Hashirama, we should first return to the village with the Kirigakure shinobi,” Danzō advised. “We need to inform Kizaru and the others about Madara’s plan before deciding how to proceed.”

The information Yagura had revealed was far too important. Danzō naturally wanted to deliver it to Kizaru as quickly as possible.

“You’re right. Let’s return to Kono—”

Halfway through his sentence, Hashirama suddenly stopped.

He looked down at his reincarnated body before turning back toward Danzō.

“Considering my current condition, would returning to the village cause trouble for you?”

“We’ll disguise your identity,” Danzō replied. “Your circumstances are unusual, so revealing your presence to the public would be unwise.”

“Then I’ll leave that to you.”

“It’s the least we can do.”

With the matter settled, Danzō asked Orochimaru to remain with Hashirama.

He then began arranging the Kirigakure prisoners’ return to Konoha while preparing everything necessary to conceal the First Hokage’s identity.