Within the massive crater, there was no trace left of Sarutobi Hiruzen or Shimura Danzō.
They had been blown apart—bones pulverized, bodies erased, utterly vanished from this world.
Yet among the assembled ninja clans, there was not a shred of unnecessary pity.
To involve oneself in a struggle that never belonged to you in the first place—this was the inevitable outcome.
People needed a sense of self-awareness.
Many clan heads were already planning internal family meetings. Hiruzen and Danzō were the perfect cautionary tale: arrogance led only to death, and worse, it dragged the entire clan down with it.
The Shimura clan had already been struck from Konoha's rolls.
And the Sarutobi clan?
Their fate wouldn't be much better.
At best, they'd cling to life in Konoha—bowing low, keeping their heads down for decades—waiting for the Uchiha to finally forget.
"Looks like Senju Tobirama's judgment wasn't all that impressive,"
Uchiha Nan said calmly, addressing the room.
"The successor he chose clearly couldn't shoulder Konoha's burden."
As he spoke, his gaze shifted toward Uzumaki Mito.
That fight just now?
Merely an appetizer.
If he wanted to become Hokage, the real obstacle was still her.
"Anyone else want to become Hokage?" Nan continued.
"You can step forward right now."
"Konoha is a democracy. Anyone with the resolve to protect the village is qualified to compete."
"That was the First Hokage's original intention."
His voice rang out, sweeping across the crowd.
No one stepped forward.
Not a single person dared say:
I want to be Hokage too.
Weren't the two examples right in front of them obvious enough?
Uchiha Nan's blade was still dripping with blood.
Step onto the stage, and it became a battle of life and death.
Who would willingly walk into that?
Standing beside Uzumaki Mito, Senju Tōma wore a grim expression.
Uchiha Nan's strength had already reached this level?
He had disposed of Hiruzen and Danzō with casual ease—like slaughtering chickens.
Nan was terrifyingly complete.
S-rank techniques cast at will.
Swordsmanship refined to near perfection.
As for genjutsu—it wasn't even worth mentioning.
After all, who would dare try genjutsu in front of an Uchiha's Sharingan? Saying that out loud would only invite ridicule.
And yet—
Nan had only revealed the three-tomoe Sharingan so far.
The Mangekyō Sharingan hadn't even appeared.
That was the intelligence Tōma truly wanted.
Rumors claimed the Mangekyō granted two powerful ocular techniques—no one knew whether it was true.
He had never seen Madara use such things either. Whenever his father fought Madara, it was a clash of giants—raw power against raw power.
Tōma hesitated.
If he faced Nan, death was the most likely outcome.
Was he supposed to step up knowing that?
He didn't have that kind of resolve.
He still had too many attachments.
Little Tsunade.
His beautiful wife.
His mother.
But hesitation itself was dangerous.
Delay even a moment longer, and Nan would truly become Hokage.
Uzumaki Mito had been watching her son from the corner of her eye. She could see his inner struggle clearly.
With Nan's methods, Tōma stood no chance.
Mito didn't believe for a second that Nan would show mercy—he would kill without hesitation.
"Then let this old woman test you."
At last, Uzumaki Mito stepped forward.
If her son was not strong enough, then she, as his mother, would take the stage.
In the end, the Senju could no longer hold back.
Mito's strength was unquestionable.
Whether Nan could defeat her—no one present knew.
But at this point, the result itself almost didn't matter anymore.
Among the crowd, Hyūga Takuma struggled to suppress his excitement.
Nan's strength had already far exceeded Takuma's expectations—and what they'd seen so far was only the tip of the iceberg.
The Uchiha's younger generation had produced a true pillar.
Compared to Nan, Senju Tōma paled into insignificance.
Even if Uzumaki Mito won and became Hokage—so what?
How many years did she have left?
The future already belonged to the Uchiha.
Once Mito died, Konoha would inevitably fall into Uchiha hands.
This bet… I chose right, Takuma thought.
"Good," Nan said with a smile. "I was hoping you would."
His gaze deliberately drifted toward Senju Tōma—
A blatant provocation.
Tōma's chest tightened with frustration. When had he ever suffered humiliation like this? He had always been the one crushing others with strength.
Strength…
He longed for his father's power more than ever.
If he had inherited Wood Release, everything would be different.
Suddenly, a memory surfaced—
An experiment.
One that Senju Tobirama had urgently shut down in the past.
Tōma fell into deep thought.
Meanwhile, Uzumaki Mito had already stepped opposite Nan, donning armor she hadn't worn in many years.
Ding!
Mangekyō Sharingan Experience Card −1
Nan activated the Mangekyō without the slightest hesitation.
Good steel was meant for the blade's edge.
If Mito lost control, the Nine-Tails couldn't be restrained with mere three-tomoe Sharingan.
Pain had been beaten senseless by four-tailed Naruto. Nagato had nearly killed himself using Chibaku Tensei and still couldn't seal him.
Caution was mandatory.
One mistake, and Nan would die here—and that would be a real joke.
Lucky.
The ocular power surged.
This time, the randomly granted Mangekyō belonged to Uchiha Obito.
Kamui.
The ultimate survival technique.
Advance to attack.
Retreat to escape death.
A perfect trump card.
Maybe I should carve Mito up a bit, Nan thought idly.
"Lady Mito," he said aloud, glancing around, "this place is too cramped. How about we change locations?"
They were far too close to Konoha's center.
If Mito unleashed the Nine-Tails and he responded with Susanoo, the collateral damage alone would flatten the village.
How much would it cost to rebuild Konoha after that?
"Exactly my thought," Mito replied.
One casual strike from the Nine-Tails was an S-rank attack.
So was Susanoo.
Playing with S-rank techniques near the village center was basically declaring Konoha bankrupt.
"To the Death Forest."
The lands surrounding Konoha were vast forests under village jurisdiction. The area was teeming with beasts and monsters, and civilians who ventured there often died while hunting or gathering.
Over time, the forests gained a single name—
The Death Forest.
"That works," Mito nodded.
It was indeed suitable.
In truth, she would have preferred the Valley of the End—
The site of Hashirama and Madara's final battle.
The outcome was known to all.
Hashirama won—barely.
Madara lost—with regret.
Mito represented the Senju.
Nan represented the Uchiha.
If she defeated Nan at the Valley of the End, the political symbolism would be immense.
As long as the Senju lived, the Uchiha would always be second.
Unfortunately, the Valley of the End was too far.
Getting there would take time.
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