In truth, it wasn't just Yuki Yoru.
Anyone who had awakened spiritual power could faintly sense the same thing—
something about the world was changing.
The world's spiritual power… was growing stronger. Denser. Richer.
Yoru didn't yet know the exact cause, but he understood why the shinobi world had been a place devoid of spiritual power for so long.
It was because the Sage of Six Paths had seized control of the Pure Land, confining every soul within it.
That was why this world had no spiritual essence—no lingering souls.
This was also the reason that, in the beginning, Yoru had been forced to rely solely on chakra to fuel his ghostly arts in battle.
Only after he developed the Spirit-Gathering Formation had he been able to fight freely, unrestrained.
But then—
in that one instant, during his confrontation with the Six Paths Sage—
something shifted.
Spiritual power appeared in the world once again.
Yes.
Even though the current shinobi world had gradually become saturated with spiritual power—thanks to the rise of the Shinigami and Quincy spreading across the nations—that energy came from the living.
From souls still bound to bodies.
It was not the essence of the dead.
Yet, in that single moment, Yoru had distinctly felt it—
the presence of the dead, of wandering souls.
And judging from the look of shock on the Sage of Six Paths' face, Yoru instantly understood what had happened.
This was a gift—or perhaps more accurately, a revenge against the Sage of Six Paths himself.
And within the shinobi world, there was only one being capable of something like this—
and reckless enough to do it.
Ōtsutsuki Isshiki.
Yoru didn't know how the Sage of Six Paths had gotten entangled with Isshiki, but the result was undeniable.
The Pure Land had been destroyed.
And now, souls once again walked among the living.
The missing piece of this world—the very essence it had lacked for millennia—had been restored.
The power of souls once more filled the realm.
And for Yoru, the master of souls, it was nothing less than a heaven-sent blessing.
He had fought alone all his life—
and now, the entire battlefield had become his home turf.
"You can feel it too, can't you, Kiri?"
Yoru lifted his gaze slightly, his tone calm but his eyes bright.
"This world is whole again. The souls of the dead are returning to the cycle of heaven and earth. You understand what that means for us, don't you?"
He raised his hand gently.
Wisps of pure spiritual light gathered at his palm.
"Kirigakure will become the holy land of the departed," he said softly.
"From now on, we can truly develop—sustainably, eternally—without relying on slow, forced conversion."
"Our power will, from this moment forward, become the new foundation of this world. Even a thousand years from now—even ten thousand—it will remain, just as chakra once did."
Until now, spiritual power had spread across the shinobi world largely because of Yoru's efforts.
Almost everyone had begun cultivating it, training to become Quincy-like warriors.
Yet, this power still remained unstable—
kept alive only by Yoru's influence, by Maitreya's divine energy, and by Kirigakure's organized guidance.
If that guidance were to vanish,
the spiritual power would quickly fade away once more—
because this world, the physical realm, had no true souls.
And the Sage of Six Paths knew that.
That was why he had never truly feared Yuki Yoru.
No matter how wild Yoru became, as long as the Pure Land remained under his control, the shinobi world could never escape his grasp.
But now—everything had changed.
The Pure Land had been destroyed.
It had cost the Sage of Six Paths centuries of energy to construct.
Rebuilding it would take resources and chakra beyond measure.
And Yoru would never allow him to rebuild it unchallenged.
"What do you intend to do now, Lord Yoru?"
Kiri's beautiful eyes shimmered as she asked softly.
Yoru smiled faintly.
"We'll accept them—and we'll cultivate them," he said.
"Now that the Quincy are spread throughout the shinobi world, it's time for the Seireitei to expand as well."
"Yes, Lord Yoru!"
...
Meanwhile—
somewhere far away, on a desolate island within the shinobi world…
within the Ōtsutsuki dimensional space—
As a series of black, pixel-like cubes folded outward, a figure slowly stepped through the spatial gate.
He had pale skin and long light-blue hair tied into a high ponytail. His eyebrowless forehead bore two small circular marks.
What immediately drew the eye, however, was the strange crimson fishing rod he carried—a divine-looking tool that radiated a faint, unsettling power.
His pure white eyes and otherworldly aura left no doubt as to his identity.
Ōtsutsuki Urashiki.
"I can sense so many immense energy signatures here…" Urashiki murmured with a lazy smile, his tone full of amusement.
"So this is the planet that Kaguya was willing to betray you for? Hah… I can see why—it really is tempting."
Shouldering his red fishing rod, he looked playfully at the man standing before him—who appeared to be Uchiha Madara, but was in truth Ōtsutsuki Isshiki—and said teasingly,
"But you, Isshiki… this is the first time I've ever seen you look so pathetic."
"Shut your mouth, fool."
"Madara"—or rather, Isshiki—glared at him with open disgust and irritation.
He hadn't expected the signal he'd sent into the cosmos to be picked up by this idiot of all people.
What rotten luck.
"What's with that look, you bastard?!" Urashiki snapped, anger flaring as he felt Isshiki's naked contempt.
"Look at yourself, Isshiki! I came here to help you!"
"Help?" Isshiki snorted coldly. "With your strength? Coming here is no different from throwing yourself to the wolves."
"Hah! You think I'd lose to that traitor Kaguya? Don't forget, I'm of the main family!"
"Oh? The main family… without even a single attendant to serve him?"
"Isshiki!" Urashiki's expression darkened instantly, his tone filled with venom.
In the blink of an eye, he appeared right in front of Isshiki, his aura exploding outward—
the terrifying pressure of a Kekkei Mōra user shaking the surrounding space.
"You'd better remember your place, Isshiki. Look at your current state—you're barely clinging to life inside that frail vessel of yours."
"Idiot."
"You—!"
Urashiki's face twisted with rage, but Isshiki didn't even bother to look at him anymore.
It was true that every member of the Ōtsutsuki Clan possessed power on par with the Six Paths level, but even among that level, there were vast differences in strength.
Isshiki was among the strongest of that tier—
while the one before him, Ōtsutsuki Urashiki, was barely above the bottom.
To send this fool against Yuki Yoru, Kaguya, or her two powerful sons currently within the shinobi world—
that would be nothing short of suicide.
In terms of power, experience, and battle instinct, the gap was simply too great.
Urashiki wouldn't stand even a fraction of a chance.
But then—
"Wait."
Isshiki suddenly frowned, as though realizing something.
His sharp gaze locked onto Urashiki.
"That guy should have had wards set up on the moon. So tell me—how did you manage to get in here?"
"Heh," Urashiki chuckled smugly, a hint of arrogance on his lips.
"You think I'm as brainless as you? All brawn and no mind?"
"I sensed the presence coming from that celestial body long ago.
The one stationed there—he's Kaguya's servant, isn't he? I can feel it—his energy is almost identical to hers.
Ninety-nine percent the same."
"To avoid drawing that guy's attention, I had to go through quite a bit of trouble," Urashiki said smugly.
"You avoided Obito?"
Ōtsutsuki Isshiki's brows remained tightly furrowed as he spread his senses across the surrounding space, carefully probing every trace of energy nearby.
Only after confirming that Uchiha Obito on the moon and the surrounding area hadn't reacted—no sudden surges of powerful chakra anywhere—did he finally exhale in relief.
This Urashiki idiot… weak, yes, but at least not completely brainless.
"Don't be so nervous," Urashiki said with a lazy grin. "Sure, that traitor Kaguya's got some tricks up her sleeve, but now that I'm here, isn't everything fine? Besides, with your current power—well, your 'vessel' is pretty trash, I'll admit—but taking care of that guy up on the moon shouldn't be a big deal, right?"
"You handle that one," he continued with a smirk, "and I'll deal with Kaguya. Perfect plan!"
"Idiot!" Isshiki snapped coldly. "With the strength you and I have right now, we don't even have the right to act openly in this world!"
He sneered. "And for your information, Kaguya has already been defeated. If my predictions are correct, she's probably in the process of reincarnating through one of her prepared 'vessels'—assuming she still has any left alive."
"Kaguya's been defeated?" Urashiki blinked in surprise, staring at Isshiki. "Not bad! You actually managed to beat her in that state—even after she ate the chakra fruit?"
"You're mistaken," Isshiki said flatly. "I wasn't the one who defeated her."
"…Not you?" Urashiki's expression turned puzzled. "Then what, another clansman arrived before me?"
"It's a long story…"
Isshiki sighed softly, then stopped explaining with words. Instead, he used his chakra to transmit the general sequence of events directly into Urashiki's mind.
When Urashiki finished receiving the memory, he was left utterly dumbfounded.
It took him quite some time before he finally came back to his senses.
"So let me get this straight," he said incredulously, "Kaguya betrayed you, ate the chakra fruit, then got sealed away by her own sons… and when she was unsealed, she was devoured by this Yuki Yoru guy?
Come on, Isshiki, you can't be serious! Kaguya ate the chakra fruit! How could she possibly lose after that—are you joking?"
Isshiki didn't answer. He simply met Urashiki's gaze in silence, his expression calm and unreadable.
Gradually, the grin froze on Urashiki's face. His eyes grew serious.
When he had descended onto this planet, he had immediately sensed the overwhelming energy contained within it.
By all rights, the planet should have already been drained dry by Kaguya.
But now, looking back on it, it seemed Isshiki was telling the truth—something must have gone very wrong with her.
Kaguya's natural combat ability had always been poor, but after consuming the chakra fruit, her power should have far surpassed even his.
The chakra fruit's amplification effect on members of the Ōtsutsuki Clan was unimaginably great.
And yet, despite all that, she had lost—and not just once, but twice.
"…So, you finally understand how serious this is."
Isshiki's voice was quiet, but carried the weight of authority.
"In addition to this vessel," he continued, "I prepared another one—a perfect vessel. Once it reaches full maturity, I'll complete my reincarnation.
To ensure stability, I sent out a signal to call for backup… but of all people, you were the one who showed up."
"Bakaa!" Urashiki snapped, grinding his teeth.
"Shut up, Urashiki," Isshiki growled coldly. "I don't care what you plan to do—but until my vessel is fully matured, and until the rest of our clan arrives, you'll stay right here. Don't go anywhere."
Ōtsutsuki Urashiki's eyes widened. "Are you kidding me? I'm Ōtsutsuki Urashiki!"
"Heh."
That little chuckle from Isshiki carried pure disdain. Exactly because it was Urashiki, he had to wait.
If it had been any other clansman who'd received his signal, Isshiki would never have chosen to hold back and give that "monster" more time to grow stronger — he would have resurrected on the spot and led the clan to strike down Yuki Yoru immediately.
But since it was Urashiki who came… there was no helping it.
The guy's combat power was just too pathetic. He had to endure it.
Fortunately, Isshiki had spent a thousand years lurking in the shinobi world — and what he'd learned best during that time was how to endure.
Urashiki's irritation only grew under Isshiki's contemptuous attitude, yet the information hidden within Isshiki's words made him refocus.
Yes, he was weak — but that didn't mean he was stupid.
On the contrary, for someone so weak yet so desperate to act strong, Urashiki's intellect was actually quite sharp.
Still, being ridiculed so bluntly by Isshiki made it hard for him to keep his temper.
Isshiki, seeing the subtle changes in Urashiki's expression, casually lifted his hand and released a pulse of thick, heavy energy.
"What's this?" Urashiki asked.
"The power of souls," Isshiki said gravely. "It's the dominant force in this world now — and it's also the power wielded by the greatest enemy we'll soon face."
"You've always loved experimenting with strange powers, haven't you?" he continued coolly. "Then take your time studying this one. Let's see if you can manage to 'fish' it up."
"The power of souls? Such worthless energy is beneath— hm?!"
Urashiki had been sneering confidently as he raised his crimson fishing rod and cast it toward the drifting spiritual power .
But the very moment his hook brushed against that power, his expression changed drastically.
It was supposed to be ordinary, low-level soul energy — and yet, what he sensed within it was an overwhelming strength, so immense it rivaled even the Ōtsutsuki chakra flowing inside his own body.
"How interesting…" he muttered.
"Study it well," Isshiki said indifferently. "The one who commands this power possesses the ability to see the future and control all things. Your power may be weak, but if you can fully utilize your ability in battle — even just to suppress that person's foresight — that alone will make you useful."
"To see the future and control all things?"
Urashiki tilted his head slightly, still feeling out the flow of the spirit energy.
Then he smirked arrogantly, his white eyes gleaming with pride.
"Don't lump the power of some lower lifeform together with me," he said. "I am Ōtsutsuki — the master of time itself!"
"Still…" he added with a sly grin, "I must admit, I'm getting curious about this being who commands such a fascinating force."
As he spoke, Urashiki extended his hand and tore open a spatial rift leading toward the shinobi world.
Isshiki frowned as he watched him, but Urashiki simply waved dismissively.
"Relax. I'm not going to do anything reckless. I just want to get a closer look at this peculiar spiritual power."
He smirked again, stepping toward the rift.
"Besides, if we're going to make our move soon, I can't just rely on your half-baked briefing. Information like this—" he glanced back with a sharp grin "—has to be gathered firsthand."