It was unclear what Obito was doing inside Konoha, but four days had passed without him emerging. During this time, the village remained tranquil; no alarms had been raised, and no chaos was visible.
Consequently, neither Diarmuid nor Black Zetsu paid it much mind. While Obito couldn't compare to Diarmuid, he was no pushover. He was a man who could trade blows with the likes of Minato. If he truly slipped up in Konoha, he'd at least be able to cause enough of a stir to be noticed.
Over the past few days, Diarmuid and Black Zetsu had actually spent their time quite pleasantly. The two had pitched a tent in the small forest, camping out and chatting about everything under the sun.
Black Zetsu already held a very favorable opinion of Diarmuid. Part of this was rooted in Diarmuid's sheer strength, a respect and admiration for the powerful, coupled with the expectation that having someone like him on board would significantly boost the success rate of his plans.
Another part was that, for some reason, many of Diarmuid's words resonated deeply with him. It was as if he had found a soulmate, which deeply moved Black Zetsu, a "lonely orphan" of a thousand years.
Unlike Madara, whom Black Zetsu viewed as a mere "tool" to be discarded, an unwitting sacrifice for the eventual resurrection of his mother, Otsutsuki Kaguya, Diarmuid was different. In Black Zetsu's eyes, Diarmuid was simply being utilized, perhaps even deceived, but that trajectory could be altered.
Black Zetsu increasingly felt that Diarmuid was a rare talent, someone he might even introduce to his mother in the future. A powerful enforcer would be useful, as his mother would need representatives to rule the world. The power Diarmuid sought could be granted to him then, couldn't it? That would negate the deception.
Moreover, Black Zetsu knew certain secrets regarding the internal conflicts of the Otsutsuki clan and the peril his mother faced. Having an extra ally was objectively a good thing. Thinking this, he became even more warm and cordial toward Diarmuid.
Diarmuid, having nothing better to do, spent his days practicing or shooting the breeze with Black Zetsu. To him, Black Zetsu was an excellent conversationalist. The creature was incredibly well-informed; no matter the topic, he could keep up. Furthermore, he was surprisingly open about ancient legends and information that didn't conflict with his immediate interests.
For instance, he spoke of the priestesses of the Land of Demons, a lineage spanning hundreds of years, the sealed demons, and the malevolent Moryo. Diarmuid knew of these things vaguely, but Black Zetsu's detailed accounts were fascinating.
"So, what exactly is this Moryo? Also, I've been researching the soul lately. What kind of beings are the King of Hell, the one they call Yama, and the Reaper? Do you know?" Diarmuid asked while grilling small fish over a fire. Occasionally, he would take a puff from the pipe at his waist, looking perfectly relaxed.
In thousands of years, Black Zetsu had rarely been able to relax like this. Usually, he was busy scheming. Feeling a rare sense of ease, he pondered how to explain these concepts without compromising his ultimate goal.
"Moryo is hardly worth mentioning, just a manifestation of worldly malice. Though he has indeed escaped the shackles of life and death. If I had to describe him, he's somewhat similar to the Tailed Beasts. By the way, Diarmuid, do you understand the conceptual existence of a Tailed Beast?" Black Zetsu explained, ending with a question.
Previously, due to their limited contact, Black Zetsu had always addressed him as "Diarmuid-sama." But Diarmuid found the creature interesting and knowledgeable, and since he needed to glean obscured information, he naturally struck up a "friendship." He had told Black Zetsu to drop the formalities and just call him "Diarmuid."
"I know. They are aggregates of Chakra that drift through this world. Even if a Tailed Beast dies, they will eventually manifest again after their Chakra reconsolidates. That's the gist of it," Diarmuid replied.
Black Zetsu nodded; Diarmuid wasn't wrong. He continued, "Moryo is the same, except he is a composite of soul energy and foul malice. Normally, soul energy cannot transcend the cycle of life and death, but by mixing with the world's malevolence, he achieved it. Thus, he became an immortal demon that can only be sealed, not killed. He can resurrect through that malice... essentially the same nature as a Tailed Beast."
"I see," Diarmuid nodded. "Then, what exactly is that malevolence?"
"To put it simply, it is a dark power condensed from the world's hatred, evil, and jealousy. This power can stem from humans or any sentient being. It has existed since ancient times and could be considered a law of the world's operation," Black Zetsu added.
"Sounds like an unpleasant power. Moryo... I didn't realize he had such a significant origin," Diarmuid chuckled.
Black Zetsu glanced at Kokorowatari hanging at Diarmuid's waist. "That blade of yours should be able to slay him permanently. I can sense an immense malevolent power within it. What surprises me more is that your will hasn't been twisted by it. Normally, prolonged exposure to such power turns people insane... though Moryo isn't truly that formidable."
"How do you know I haven't gone mad?" Diarmuid asked suddenly.
Black Zetsu: ???
For a moment, he was speechless.
Diarmuid burst into laughter. "Hahaha! I'm just joking."
As for why he wasn't affected by Kokorowatari? Diarmuid didn't know himself. He hadn't even realized the blade had such a side effect; he assumed the discomfort he felt during its first use was the only hurdle and that the sword had simply been "tamed."
Now it seemed it wasn't that simple. Most likely, his innate Iron Will completely immunized him against the sword's influence.
"Moryo is indeed not much if he ended up sealed in such a pathetic state," Diarmuid remarked. "But you imply there are beings far more powerful associated with this malevolence?"
"Naturally. There is one who calls himself a god," Black Zetsu said after a moment's thought.
"Who?" Diarmuid asked, intrigued.
"I don't know his name, perhaps he doesn't have one. But his existence is ancient, comparable to the Reaper or the King of Hell. I suspect he has lost his self-will and has become a conceptual deity," Black Zetsu explained.
"I've heard the Reaper is lower in rank than the King of Hell?" Diarmuid mused.
"Yes, but they are both conceptual gods," Black Zetsu confirmed.
Diarmuid didn't know much about "conceptual" gods, but he understood Black Zetsu's meaning: they were like personifications of natural laws, entirely different from a "Goddess" like Kaguya.
"So who is it? You haven't been clear," Diarmuid pressed.
"The one known as Jashin. It's said the concept he represents is the antithesis of the Reaper and the King of Hell, capable of granting immortality. Apparently, some of his followers have obtained such power," Black Zetsu said.
"Sounds like trash," Diarmuid remarked.
Black Zetsu: ???
Immortality is trash?
But on second thought, it really wasn't all that impressive. This "immortality" referred to the physical body, not the soul. If the soul died, the person became a living corpse. Furthermore, this power granted by Jashin didn't prevent the body from rotting or aging. It was a blessing that looked a lot like a curse.
Following Black Zetsu's explanation, Diarmuid's interest in this "Jashin" evaporated. Trash. The Reaper and the King of Hell were far more interesting and worth researching.
Since learning the Spirit Transformation Jutsu, Diarmuid had a lingering sixth sense, perhaps the instinct of the strong. Much like how Whitebeard instinctively didn't want Ace to pursue Teach, it was a vague but often accurate premonition.
Diarmuid's premonition was that he would eventually have to deal with the Reaper or the King of Hell. He felt he would inevitably visit the Pure Land.
Whenever he felt this, his scalp would tingle. The Pure Land was the resting place of the dead. If he was destined to go there... how could that be a good thing?
"Tell me more about the King of Hell and the Reaper. I'm more interested in them," Diarmuid said.
Black Zetsu didn't refuse. "The Reaper and the King of Hell are essentially extremely powerful souls. They have existed for so long that I don't know when they began, but I suspect they were once like humans. Their souls were simply too powerful, and after death, they became part of the Pure Land. Over countless ages, they assimilated with it, lost their will, and became conceptual gods... at least, that is my theory."
"Souls that were too powerful?" Diarmuid felt he was on the verge of grasping something, but he couldn't quite pin it down.
As he was thinking, space began to warp in the distance, and the figure of Obito appeared. Simultaneously, a ghostly figure emerged from a nearby tree – it was White Zetsu.
Their arrival broke Diarmuid's train of thought. It seemed the time for action had finally arrived.