The scorching sun blazed overhead.
Deep within a dark cave, Danzo Shimura stared warily at the Masked Man before him.
This man was shrouded in mystery—his shadow stretched across both the Nine-Tails' attack and the Uchiha Clan massacre.
"Why do you want to save me?"
Danzo's hoarse voice echoed through the cavern. His right hand had already begun to rise subtly, ready to form seals at a moment's notice.
If danger came, he would not hesitate to unleash a forbidden Ninjutsu—even one that would ensure mutual destruction.
He had already failed once. His hopes were shattered, and the man before him possessed space–time ninjutsu, making escape an impossibility.
Obito gazed at Danzo, eyes filled with thinly veiled disgust. He had no interest in saving such a man—a man rotten to the core.
If Danzo weren't still useful, he would have ended his life long ago.
A chaotic Konoha was far more advantageous than a unified one.
"I'm saving you because I don't want to see Konoha fall into the hands of the Senju," Obito said evenly.
As he spoke, the Three Tomoe Sharingan beneath his mask spun to life, gleaming in the darkness.
Danzo's gaze dropped to the eye, a twinge of guilt surfacing for the first time in years. He had been complicit in the Uchiha's downfall, but this masked man clearly bore no love for his own clan either.
"You may call me… Uchiha Madara."
As Obito's words fell, his chakra flared violently, and the tomoe in his eyes twisted—evolving into the Mangekyō Sharingan.
"Uchiha Madara?"
Danzo's brows furrowed. He was no fool; as the Second Hokage's student, he was well-versed in the Uchiha Bloodline Limit.
Every Mangekyō possessed unique powers. Yet, he had never once heard of Madara wielding space–time abilities.
That could only mean one thing—this so-called "Madara" was an imposter.
The real Madara would never hide behind a mask.
Still, Danzo wasn't completely certain. Seventy percent told him the man was a fake. The remaining thirty whispered that he might indeed be genuine.
After all, Madara had once been a legend. A man capable of faking his death was not beyond belief—especially since Danzo knew of the Izanagi.
He himself had used that forbidden technique more than anyone else in history.
"Oh? Then, Lord Madara," Danzo said, his tone calm but cautious, "what do you want from me? Surely you didn't save me out of kindness."
His voice was gravelly, his face pale and worn. Overdrawing his vitality through constant Izanagi use had aged him prematurely; his once-black hair was streaked with white.
He looked like a man whose life was burning at its final ember.
"Heh... I like dealing with men who understand their position," Obito replied coldly. "It's simple. I'll help you reclaim Konoha. In return, you'll give me the Impure World Reincarnation."
Danzo's eyes widened slightly, a spark of life flickering within their depths.
Obito's words reignited his ambition.
With the help of this mysterious man, perhaps he could reclaim what was his by right.
Yes... Konoha must return to me.
Senju Tsunade... I, Danzo Shimura, will rise again.
A faint smile tugged at Obito's lips. Even if Danzo regained power, how long could he possibly live? Power always blinded men to their mortality.
The Edo Tensei—Impure World Reincarnation—was indeed a terrifying jutsu. Danzo knew its potential, but controlling it was another matter entirely.
As far as anyone knew, only Orochimaru had perfected that forbidden art.
Still, if learning it brought him closer to the Hokage's seat again… so be it.
No price is too high for power.
Elsewhere, Naruto remained unaware that Obito had decided to let Danzo—ever the schemer—continue sowing discord within Konoha.
But even if he had known, he wouldn't have cared.
To Naruto, Danzo was nothing but a clown dancing on borrowed time.
At that moment, Naruto was busy leveraging his influence and wealth—pressuring the so-called nobles and high officials to obstruct any measures targeting the Umbrella Organization.
At the Snow Country base, Naruto turned to Shisui.
"Is everything arranged?"
Shisui nodded. "It's done. But the Land of Lightning's Daimyō can't influence the Hidden Cloud Village's military decisions."
Naruto folded his arms, expression calm. "The Raikage, huh? That's normal. The Land of Lightning has always been his personal stage. Even the Daimyō struggles to sway him."
"What about the others?"
Naruto turned his gaze toward Shisui, who wore a faint smile.
"The Tsuchikage and Mizukage won't get involved in this matter," Shisui said.
"As for the Raikage, he likely won't dare to send a large force—probably just small squads for harassment."
"That's enough," Naruto replied quietly, his tone carrying deeper meaning.
Two years had passed since the founding of the Umbrella Organization. The world's balance was beginning to shift, and soon the Akatsuki would start hunting the Tailed Beasts. By then, everything would be ripe for change.
In another two years, his own strength would undergo a transformation.
Until he reached the level of the Sage of Six Paths, Naruto had no intention of exposing his full power. After all, the Sage himself still lingered within the Pure Land, watching in silence.
If the Sage decided to intervene… things would become very interesting.
Wind and rain swept across the mountaintop where Naruto and Shisui stood. Below them, the Land of Snow stretched into the horizon—a nation reborn.
Once buried under endless frost, the land now thrived thanks to the geothermal reactors left behind by Sosetsu Kazahana, the late father of Koyuki Kazahana. Snow and storms now only covered the farthest reaches of the country.
In their place, steel rails and smoke rose from the land—railways snaking across the Snow Country like veins of progress.
Reinforced concrete towers now stood where ice once ruled, their lights gleaming against the dim sky.
"Let's go," Naruto said at last. "Time to head back, Shisui."
He still had work to do. The next two years would be crucial for his growth. Though his strength continued to rise steadily under the principle of Heaven rewards diligence, true breakthroughs had become elusive.
The gap between the Super Kage level and the Six Paths level was vast—far greater than most could comprehend.
It wasn't merely a difference in strength, but in the very essence of existence.
A Super Kage's lifespan, though greater than most shinobi, still had its limits. But those who attained the Six Paths level could traverse the stars themselves—their bodies impervious to cosmic radiation, their lifespans extending beyond mortal reckoning.
Without the power of the Six Paths, even surviving the harshness of the universe was impossible.
At the same time, word had already spread across the Five Great Nations.
The Lands of Water, Earth, and Lightning had each received a formal decree from their Daimyō:
"Any village that continues to provoke or obstruct the Umbrella Organization will see its military funding cut in half—effective immediately."
When Ōnoki received this news, even he was taken aback. With his decades of political shrewdness, he instantly understood the implications—Umbrella had powerful backing among the nobility.
Under such pressure, the aged Tsuchikage could only relent.
After all, what benefit was there in going to war with Umbrella? The risks were certain, the rewards uncertain—and Iwagakure's already strained resources would crumble under the loss of half its budget.
Ōnoki was no longer young; his perspective had tempered with age. If he were still in his prime, perhaps he would have taken the gamble. But now, prudence outweighed pride.
Meanwhile, Mei Terumī took the opportunity to step back gracefully.
It wasn't just strategy—it was instinct.
She neither wished to provoke the Umbrella Organization nor pit Kirigakure's strength against it. Part of it was sentiment; part of it was survival.
And in truth, she knew well—Naruto Uzumaki was not a man to be made an enemy of.
...
TN:
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