Chapter 137n
2-in-1-chapter
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"Elder Genji, aren't you giving that Uchiha boy a bit too much credit?"
The words of youthful arrogance were not wrong. Hōzuki Mangetsu, though he had already suffered at Rēn's hands, still carried a trace of defiance in his proud nature. He admitted that Uchiha Rēn was stronger than all of them, yet the idea that the entire shinobi world would bow before him—such words were far too exaggerated.
"Mangetsu, have you not suffered enough already?"
Yagura Karatachi could only sigh.
"Once I master my clan's secret techniques, I will never lose so badly again," Mangetsu insisted. He still clung to hope. The Hōzuki clan's secret arts were formidable. The Second Mizukage had relied on them to clash with the Second Tsuchikage, wielder of Dust Release, fighting him many times to a standstill before both perished in their final battle.
"It isn't so simple," Elder Genji said with a sigh.
He knew the Second Tsuchikage, Mū, not just by reputation but from firsthand combat. The sheer force of Dust Release, on par with a Tailed Beast Bomb, had left a deep impression. Yet few remembered that the Second Tsuchikage had once suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of Uchiha Madara.
And if one also counted Gengetsu Hōzuki, who had likewise been struck down by Madara, then the terror of the Uchiha became clear.
"Don't think I'm lying to you. In Uchiha Rēn, I see the shadow of his ancestor, Uchiha Madara. But strangely enough, in him I also see something of the First Hokage, Senju Hashirama."
Elder Genji hesitated a moment, then voiced his instinct.
"Hashirama and Madara?" Yagura nearly scratched his head raw. He wanted to blurt out, "Elder, are you joking?" Hashirama and Madara together—what kind of monstrous combination was that? "Elder, you must be jesting."
"In any case, just don't provoke Konoha," Elder Genji replied. He offered no detailed explanation, for it was a feeling too close to intuition to put into words.
The truth was, he had spoken from the heart. In Uchiha Rēn he saw the same overwhelming confidence and power as the First Hokage, yet within those eyes lurked the cruelty and ruthlessness that Hashirama lacked but Madara embodied.
Together, the two sides formed something truly chilling.
If Hashirama had been gentle and powerful, so much so that even enemies could feel a faint sense of reassurance, then Rēn, though he might wield power akin to Hashirama's, possessed none of that kindness.
Instead, he had inherited the mercilessness that defined the Uchiha clan across generations.
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Rēn had no knowledge of the high praise Elder Genji had given him, but even if he had, he would not have cared. A lofty compliment or two was not enough to make him lose himself with joy, especially when it brought no tangible benefit. After sending off Yagura and Elder Genji, he summoned Hyūga Masayuki.
This elder of the Hyūga clan's main family had accompanied Rēn to Kirigakure. Yet because of his deep disdain for the Mist-nin, the old man had kept to himself during this time, rarely interacting with them.
In truth, the delegation had little real work to do. Negotiations with Kirigakure were handled by Rēn as the leader, supported by the strategist corps led by Nara Suzaku.
Of the more than one hundred members of the delegation, nearly two-thirds had nothing to occupy themselves with.
To avoid wasting the skills of so many Jōnin-level shinobi, Rēn had requested Yagura to allow matches between his own shinobi and Kirigakure's Jōnin. Yagura understood perfectly well what such "exchanges" meant—it was nothing more than a display of strength meant to cow the Mist-nin.
Even so, that aligned with his own thinking.
Just as Rēn wished to suppress any further unrest through a show of force, so too did Yagura and the other elders want to prevent their own restless subordinates from acting rashly. Thus, they deliberately selected the most unruly troublemakers in the village to spar against Konoha shinobi. On one hand, it curbed their arrogance, and on the other, it provided a convenient way to gather intelligence on Konoha.
With encouragement from both sides leadership, the matches between Konoha and Kirigakure Jōnin continued without pause. Naturally, these bouts were never made public, Yagura's goal was to humble the hotheads, not to damage the morale of the entire village.
After all, the Konoha shinobi who had come to Kirigakure were without exception among the very best.
Uchiha Chihaya and Ringo Ameyuri had already sparred four times, with Ameyuri losing all four. She herself did not mind these defeats; in fact, each loss made her stronger. But if word of them spread, it would only deepen the gloom already weighing on the village.
Then there was Might Guy, with his bowl-cut hair, thick eyebrows, and bright green jumpsuit that made him look like anything but a formidable warrior. Yet his taijutsu was overwhelming to the point of absurdity. So far, eleven Mist-nin specialists in taijutsu had been crushed by him.
Yes, crushed—not merely defeated.
Though they were skilled practitioners of taijutsu, none of them could still boast of their strength after facing Might Guy.
At this point, Kirigakure's Jōnin had lost far more matches than they had won, and Yagura had achieved his aim. The once-defiant troublemakers were considerably more subdued.
The Hyūga clan's Jōnin, however, had not participated. There were two reasons. First, the shame of the stolen Byakugan was an old wound that Masayuki could never forget. Second, the Hyūga Jōnin lacked confidence.
That was the most awkward truth of their clan.
The Hyūga had many Jōnin, and their possession of the Byakugan meant that, on average, their strength exceeded that of the Uchiha. But their strength was too evenly spread. They lacked true elite fighters at the very top. Even their clan head, Hyūga Hiashi, was stronger than ordinary Jōnin but could hardly be called an apex shinobi.
Individually, many Hyūga Jōnin had the courage to face strong Mist-nin.
But without a clan head like Uchiha Rēn to stand as a pillar, any loss would not be seen as the failing of one shinobi but as proof that the Hyūga as a whole were weaker.
Therefore, Masayuki had ordered his clansmen not to act on their own.
"Uchiha Clan Head, this is…"
"Your clan's Byakugan."
Rēn, without a trace of hesitation, pushed forward the container that held the stolen Byakugan and placed it before Hyūga Masayuki.
He had considered studying it himself, but ultimately gave up. This particular Byakugan was already publicly known. Everyone was aware that the Mist possessed it, making it unsuitable for private collection. Moreover, he was not certain that examining it would yield any worthwhile insight. The Byakugan and Sharingan were certainly linked in mysterious ways, but drawing conclusions between them was not something that could be done so easily.
Rather than waste his efforts in vain, Rēn chose to continue focusing on the study of the Flame Fan. Within this fragment of the God Tree's branch was contained such an overwhelming flood of information that it left his head spinning. Even though he had fully mastered the Uchiha fan, absorbing and digesting the God Tree's knowledge was not something that could be accomplished in a short period of time.
These past days, most of his energy had been devoted to research into the Gunbai. The harvest was immense, of course. Yet transforming what he had learned into corresponding power would still demand both time and effort.
"Is… is it really coming back?" Hyūga Masayuki's hands trembled as he held the bottle, veins bulging at his temples. He had already activated his Byakugan and carefully inspected the contents several times. Only after confirming that the Byakugan inside was genuine did he raise his head toward Rēn. "Uchiha Clan Head, was this delivered by the Mist-nin?"
"Yes. It arrived just now," Rēn replied with a nod.
"Then… what of the thief who murdered the main house heir of my clan?" Masayuki asked.
"What do you mean?" Rēn looked at him with some puzzlement.
"That thief known as the Byakugan Killer—was he put to death?" Masayuki repeated, his tone harsh with displeasure at the mention of that name.
"Masayuki, do not take the Mist-nin for fools." Rēn's mood soured at the elder's thoughtless words. "On the battlefield, if you are slain, do not blame the enemy for being strong; blame yourself for lacking the skill. If you wish for revenge, then seek it with your own hands. Is the Hyūga name so diminished that even vengeance must be left to others?
My agreement with the Mizukage was for the return of the Byakugan alone. Nowhere was it written that Ao's head must also be offered."
Handing over the Byakugan was a reasonable demand. But demanding Ao's death as well—such a condition would only drive the Mist-nin to desperate measures. Even if Ao himself were willing to sacrifice his life, the temperament of Kirigakure, where shinobi had no qualms about assassinating their own Mizukage, would never accept such humiliation.
To press a defeated enemy without limit would only provoke a war that could end in the annihilation of one side. That was not what Rēn wanted.
"Masayuki, if there is nothing further, then take the Byakugan back with you."
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"Can't you just let me go?"
"No."
"I don't want to go to Konoha with you."
"No means no. Crying won't help, and besides—you don't even know how to cry."
On the road leading to Kirigakure, two figures, one tall and one short, walked side by side. The white-haired child moved reluctantly, dragging his feet, stopping every few steps to argue with the tall young man beside him.
The young man, his right shoulder bound in bandages, showed remarkable patience. He was in no hurry at all. Instead, he spent the time accompanying the sulking boy.
Even though the gates of Kirigakure were already close at hand, they lingered on the road outside the village, continuing their exchange.
These two were Uchiha Shisui and Kaguya Kimimaro.
After the battle with Orochimaru, Shisui's right shoulder had been gravely wounded. From Kimimaro's memories, he had also discovered that his mission was already a failure. With the task no longer possible, he chose to return to Kirigakure, taking Kimimaro with him. Along the way, Kimimaro had tried to escape nineteen times, and during their travel he slowed their pace at every opportunity. Because of this, it had taken them more than ten days to reach the outskirts of the village.
Looking now at the gates of Kirigakure looming ahead, Kimimaro felt a wave of discouragement. He had attempted escape nineteen times and failed every single time. Even though Shisui could eat only with his left hand, this round-nosed man always managed to catch him. Perhaps it was only fitting—after all, this was the man who had defeated Lord Orochimaru.
The thought made his heart sink further. If even Lord Orochimaru had been defeated, what chance did he have of escaping this man's grasp and returning to his master's side?
"Why must you take me to Konoha?" Kimimaro asked, tilting his head back to look up at him.
"Because I cannot watch a child lose his way," Shisui answered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Kimimaro had little education, but he had already asked Shisui about the meaning of "losing one's way." To him, the answer was simple. "It was Lord Orochimaru who saved me. My life belongs to Lord Orochimaru. Whether it is the right path or not means nothing to me. I only want to return to his side."