The sound of footsteps in the darkness ahead grew clearer.
Ryota walked toward him step by step until he finally stopped in front of Shimura Danzō.
Beside him trailed the Princess.
Ais studied the bandage-wrapped old man before her.
After a moment, she tilted her head.
"Ryota—"
"This man… is he an enemy too?"
Ryota gave a half-smile and nodded.
"Of course."
Ais let out an "Oh," then looked Danzō over more carefully.
Her slender brows knit slightly, as if she were trying to sense his Chakra.
After a few seconds, she gave a quiet verdict:
"He feels… kind of weak."
The moment the words fell, the air went still.
Danzō's face froze, the corner of his eye twitching.
"Kind of… weak?"
He, the Shadow of Konoha, ruler of Root, wielder of the darkest and most secret power in the village—someone even Sarutobi Hiruzen had to tread carefully around—
To have a pair of kids barely in their teens dismiss him so casually as kind of weak?
This wasn't just an insult.
It was utter, naked contempt.
Already irritated by Uchiha Itachi's delay in carrying out the massacre, Danzō's expression darkened further.
But he was no reckless fool.
He was Shimura Danzō—Konoha's shadow, the old fox who had survived the Third Hokage and all the great clans.
Even through his rising anger, he forced down the urge to lash out, choosing instead to scrutinize the boy and girl before him.
The boy—black hair, black eyes.
The girl—blonde hair, golden eyes.
Both carried the air of seasoned fighters, but no matter how he looked, they didn't seem like Uchihas.
No clan crest, no family markings, no Sharingan—
Not even a trace of that particular Uchiha pride.
They felt more like lofty hunters—hunters who belonged to no clan at all.
Suspicion flickered in Danzō's eyes as he rasped,
"You're not Uchiha."
"Then… which clan do you belong to? And why have you come to the Uchiha Clan Grounds tonight?"
Ryota didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned to Ais with a smile.
"He says we're not Uchiha."
Ais tilted her head slightly.
"Mm… we're not."
Danzō's face twitched.
"Damn brats…"
Ryota cut him off.
"Weren't you planning to wipe out the clan?"
A flash of cold light passed through Danzō's eyes.
He hadn't expected the boy to say "wipe out the clan" so bluntly in the open.
"You little punk, what nonsense are you spouting?!"
Ryota ignored him, pointing to himself.
"Right now…"
"I'm the head of the Uchiha Clan."
Danzō's pupils shrank, the wrinkles on his face pulling taut.
"Are you joking?"
Before he could say more, Ryota flipped his wrist and produced a cloth-wrapped bundle with a thud in his palm.
Slowly, he opened it, holding it up where Danzō could see.
"As for your precious Uchiha Itachi?"
"He's gone."
"I took his eyes."
"And the man himself—already dead."
"If you came to collect the body, you're too late."
The pair of crimson pupils gleamed in the night, strikingly vivid.
The instant Danzō saw them, something inside him seemed to snap cleanly in two.
No mistake—absolutely no mistake.
Those were the scarlet eyes he knew as well as his own reflection, the eyes he had coveted countless times in his dreams.
The perfect "vessel" he had researched, monitored, and calculated for years.
And now… here they were before him—yet not his.
His heart trembled.
What crushed him wasn't even the eyes themselves.
It was this: The Uchiha Massacre had failed.
Itachi was dead. The entire meticulously planned scheme—emotional manipulation, timing, post-battle cleanup—had collapsed completely.
"What about my right arm?!"
"Who will suppress the backlash from the Hashirama cells?!"
"And my plan for those dozens of Sharingan—where do I get them now?!"
Each thought stabbed into Danzō's mind like a needle, shattering what patience remained.
He could no longer contain himself.
"IDIOT!!!"
"Those eyes should have been mine! The Uchiha should all be dead! That was my board, my game!"
"Who the hell are you?!"
Danzō roared, his Chakra flaring sharply.
But Ryota ignored his anger, casually tossing the eyes away—vanishing them into his Kamui space once more.
He was just about to speak when several black shadows shot in from the darkness, landing behind him.
At their head was Uchiha Setsuna, barely hiding the excitement in his expression.
In each hand he held a blood-soaked head, followed by several Uchiha clansmen carrying equally grisly trophies—
Like a squad of cleaners who had just finished mopping up.
Setsuna dropped to one knee, tossing the heads forward and bowing his head respectfully.
"Clan Head."
"It's all cleaned up."
Ryota gave a brief nod.
"Any injuries?"
Setsuna's eyes lit up as he shook his head.
"Not a single one!"
"Everyone's gotten stronger!"
The clansmen behind him beamed with pride.
They had never imagined that just a single Falna engraving could push their strength, speed, and reflexes to new heights.
Tonight, their opponents were the dreaded Root operatives—once feared throughout Konoha and even the entire shinobi world.
And now?
Nothing but a heap of worthless corpses.
Meanwhile, Danzō's pupils contracted sharply.
His gaze dropped to the heads rolling across the ground, and he recognized one—the mask shattered to reveal half a face.
An old operative of Root, one of his best in infiltration and assassination, a man who had served him for years and been trained by his own hand.
Now, his severed head lay tossed at Danzō's feet like a hunting prize.
And worse—these were Uchiha.
Uchiha who should have been eradicated.
"This… this is impossible!!"
Danzō snarled through clenched teeth, veins bulging at his temple.
"Damn you!"
With a roar, he flashed through hand signs.
"Wind Style: Vacuum Blast—!"
In the next instant, accompanied by a deep, resonating tremor of Chakra, he suddenly opened his mouth and spat out a series of visible, high-pressure wind blades.
The blades spun through the air, racing toward Ryota, Ais, and the gathered Uchiha at terrifying speed.
"Clan Head, look out!"
Uchiha Setsuna's expression changed drastically. Almost without thinking, he stepped forward, Chakra surging violently as he prepared to use his own body to shield Ryota and Ais.
But just as the wind blades were about to strike—
Thud!
A figure descended like a judge from the heavens, landing on the open ground before them.
Pain — Deva Path.
He raised his right hand, extended his fingers forward, and gave a light squeeze.
Crack!!!
The air itself quivered, and those incoming Vacuum Blasts seemed to be caught in an invisible gravitational grip.
In the next moment, the entire barrage of wind blades was crushed into powder midair, scattering into countless streams of harmless airflow that quickly dissipated into the night.
Setsuna froze in place, and the Uchiha behind him were stunned for several seconds.
That was Danzō's killing move—shattered so effortlessly?!
Just how many trump cards does our Clan Head have?!
Even Danzō himself was stunned, the weathered skin of his face twitching faintly.
That had been his full-power strike—fast and devastating.
He had no idea how many shinobi had fallen to that technique, yet now…
It hadn't lasted even a second before this man casually crushed it?!
And worse—this man had appeared without warning…
Danzō's eyes locked on the silent figure, and then—his heart jolted violently!
Those concentric ripples in the man's eyes made his mind stall for several seconds.
He instinctively took a step back, ready to trigger his next jutsu—
"Universal Pull."
"What—?!"
Before the words left his mouth, Danzō's body jerked violently!
An irresistible suction swept in from ahead, like the unseen hand of a god seizing his very soul.
Boom—!
He was yanked forward, dragged toward the Deva Path like a ragdoll.
"Damn it—!"
Fury and panic twisted Danzō's face as the Hashirama cells in his right arm writhed frantically.
The cells in his arm swelled grotesquely, the already swollen, monstrous limb splitting open with countless root-like cracks.
Crack crack crack—!!
A massive pillar of living wood erupted from his arm, roaring toward the Deva Path with crushing force.
But Pain's expression remained indifferent. He merely raised one hand, spread his fingers, and squeezed once more.
Boom!!!
The raging wooden pillar was torn into several massive chunks midair.
Even so, the blow bought Danzō a brief moment to breathe.
He landed heavily, one knee on the ground, his forehead slick with cold sweat as he gulped in ragged breaths.
That oppressive force… that helplessness… it felt as though his very soul was being sucked from the battlefield.
"Damn it…!"
"What the hell is going on…?"
His gaze locked on the calm-faced Pain ahead, then shifted toward Ryota—still standing nearby without moving an inch.
Say what you will about his reputation as the Scapegoat Kage, Danzō's strength was solidly at the Kage level.
He'd faced death before, but this time… he could feel it approaching, stripping away even the chance to resist.
"No… I can't stay here."
A fierce urge to retreat welled up inside him.
"Withdraw first. Survival comes first!"
If he could just escape this area, there was still a sliver of hope.
But the moment he gathered Chakra, the Deva Path appeared in front of him—instantaneously.
"What—?!"
Danzō's face changed drastically, his body instinctively leaning back to pull away—
Only for the Deva Path's quiet voice to brush his ears:
"Planetary Devastation."
A pitch-black sphere shot into Danzō's chest, trailing a spray of black-and-red blood mist.
Splurt—AAAHHH!!!
Agony ripped through him, nearly shattering his nerves, as the orb exited his body, arcing behind him before detonating.
BOOOOM—!!!
Flames, rubble, and dust erupted skyward.
Danzō's body was hurled several meters, slamming to the ground. Blood poured from his mouth as he twitched uncontrollably.
Ryota's gaze fell on the trembling form sprawled in the dirt.
Half of Danzō's face was caked with blood and grime, his eyes glazed.
But Ryota knew perfectly well—he wasn't truly dead yet.
That disgusting Hashirama-cell arm of his contained numerous Sharingan stolen from slain Uchiha, enough to trigger the forbidden jutsu Izanagi.
As long as he drew breath, he could rewrite reality, altering the outcome to escape death.
But so what?
His Sharingan would run out eventually—and Ryota could kill him as many times as it took.
Turning away, Ryota glanced at Setsuna and the others.
"You all head back first."
The words snapped them from the shock of witnessing a battle beyond shinobi comprehension. They gave Danzō one last glance, then bowed their heads.
"Yes, Clan Head."
In a flicker of movement, they vanished into the night.
Ryota turned to Ais.
"Come on. We have an old friend to visit."
Ais blinked, asking nothing, and followed at his side.
Behind them, the Deva Path still stood silently.
As a reanimated puppet personally crafted by Ryota, he had already received his orders:
"The Sharingan in Danzō's arm—none can remain."
"He'll use Izanagi. I'll leave the cleanup to you."
Stepping forward, Pain looked down at Danzō's gradually fading form, raising his hand to launch a fresh assault.
…
Meanwhile—
On a towering tree not far away, a figure blended almost seamlessly into the night, standing at its peak.
Behind a tiger-striped mask, Uchiha Obito's pupils contracted sharply.
He had seen every moment of Pain's battle with Danzō.
But beyond the shock, confusion filled his mind.
"Pain?!"
"That's Pain?!"
"How could he possibly be here?!"
"What the hell is Nagato playing at?!"