The scene remained the same waterfall.
Hagoromo stood quietly before it. No overwhelming aura radiated from him. Instead, he exuded a calm, restrained presence, as though he had returned to a state of perfect simplicity.
But when he slowly opened his eyes, the crimson Sharingan gazing out from beneath his brows had changed. Beyond their usual depth and wisdom, they now possessed an indescribable quality—as if they reflected both the good and evil within one's own soul.
He had succeeded.
Although the Heavenly Curtain had skipped over the training process itself, the result spoke for itself. After enduring unimaginable hardship and refinement, Hagoromo had finally taken the first step toward mastering the profound Three Corpses Technique, a mysterious art originating from beyond their world.
Throughout the shinobi world, those who had already been shaken by the Heavenly Curtain's earlier explanation of the Three Corpses Technique watched Hagoromo's accelerated training montage and his transformed aura with emotions so complicated that they had become almost numb.
"It... it skipped it again..."
Someone let out a powerless groan, but even more people found themselves speechless before the sheer magnitude of this higher form of power.
"Just what kind of divine being created a technique like the Three Corpses Technique?"
"It instantly creates two clones that are every bit as strong as the original? Isn't that basically three against one? How is anyone supposed to fight that?"
"If I knew a technique like this... I could go anywhere in the world without fear. Who could possibly stop me? This isn't even shinobi combat anymore—it's a completely different level!"
"That's absurd... Is this really power from the Outside World? Just a tiny fragment of what leaked into our world surpasses the entire system of ninjutsu, taijutsu, and genjutsu that the shinobi world spent centuries developing. How are we ever supposed to catch up? How can anyone compete with that?"
Envy, jealousy, fear, and despair swept across every corner of the shinobi world.
They had witnessed the Sage of Six Paths transform from an idealistic youth lacking the strength to realize his ambitions into someone who had first mastered Senjutsu, and now a seemingly bug-like Divine Art such as the Three Corpses Technique.
The speed and magnitude of that growth left everyone still struggling within the existing shinobi system feeling utterly powerless.
Pure Land
The soul of the Sage of Six Paths wore an expression far beyond mere complexity.
It was one of utter absurdity and profound bewilderment.
Gamamaru?
Of course he knew him.
The Great Toad Sage of Mount Myōboku had indeed offered him guidance in the distant past regarding the use of natural energy, helping him refine Sage Mode—the advanced technique that fused natural energy with chakra.
That much was true.
But—
What in the world was the Heavenly Curtain showing?
Gamamaru had become his teacher in cultivating immortal arts?
He had supposedly passed down a complete version of "Senjutsu" capable of resonating with the very origin of the world?
That was nothing like the Sage Mode he had learned from Gamamaru, which was simply an advanced application built upon the chakra system.
Even more outrageous was this so-called Three Corpses Technique.
Separating one's good and evil selves into independent bodies, each possessing power equal to the original?
It was complete nonsense.
"Utter fabrication... Every bit of it."
The Sage of Six Paths couldn't help shaking his head, his long beard swaying with the movement.
He was absolutely certain he had never learned—or even heard of—such an absurd divine art.
The foundation of his power had always been the chakra system. Sage Mode, by incorporating natural energy, had merely expanded and elevated it.
It had never granted anything as ridiculous as creating perfect copies of oneself.
From altering Black Zetsu's timeline and identity, to the appearance and schemes of Die, and now this entirely fictional inheritance of power...
The credibility of the Heavenly Curtain had already fallen to an appallingly low level.
It resembled a wildly imaginative piece of fanfiction built upon scattered fragments far more than it did a revelation of true history.
"But what exactly is the one behind all of this trying to accomplish?"
The fog in the Sage of Six Paths' heart only grew thicker.
If the goal was merely entertainment or to throw the shinobi world into chaos, was there really any need to fabricate such an elaborate story—one layered so carefully that parts of it even felt strangely convincing?
A bold possibility surfaced in his mind.
"Could it be..."
"The one behind the Heavenly Curtain isn't someone from this world?"
"Perhaps they, too, came from beyond this world. That would explain why their stories constantly feature concepts like powers from beyond the sky , 'baiting,' and divine arts that don't belong to this realm."
"They're using their own understanding and imagination to reinterpret... or perhaps even corrupt... our history."
The thought sent a chill through him.
But...
Did the shinobi world even possess a fixed history anymore?
The Sealing Space Within the Moon
Unlike the Sage of Six Paths, who was filled with confusion and suspicion, Kaguya Ōtsutsuki was in an exceptionally good mood.
Resting leisurely within her eternal prison, her pale Byakugan followed the events unfolding across the Heavenly Curtain with undisguised interest.
She watched the fictional version of herself rule with cold tyranny.
She watched Hagoromo struggle in agony, searching everywhere for greater power.
She watched Gamamaru mysteriously impart one incredible ability after another.
"Heh... This story grows more ridiculous by the minute..."
Kaguya murmured softly, the corners of her lips lifting into an almost imperceptible smile.
The Heavenly Curtain bore little resemblance to her own memories.
It was filled with dramatic exaggeration and obvious logical inconsistencies.
Yet precisely because it was fabricated, it was free from the weight and suffering of reality.
Instead, it had become an extravagant performance.
For Kaguya—who had spent thousands of years sealed away, with nothing but endless loneliness and resentment toward her two rebellious sons—the appearance of the Heavenly Curtain was an utterly unexpected source of entertainment during her endless imprisonment.
Its plot was captivating.
Its characters were vivid.
And every so often, it raised surprisingly interesting discussions about power, fate, and the nature of the world.
Whether any of it was true hardly mattered.
Kaguya watched it purely as an observer—
Or rather, as an audience member eagerly following a serialized drama.
As for the Hagoromo in the Heavenly Curtain training relentlessly, growing ever stronger, and ultimately aiming to defeat "Mother Kaguya"...
She paid it no mind whatsoever.
"Hurry up and update..."
She even found herself wanting to urge the mysterious creator behind the Heavenly Curtain onward, anticipation gleaming in her eyes.
"I want to see just how much more outrageous—and entertaining—this storyteller can make things."
"I refuse to believe that after inventing all of this, Hagoromo is simply going to have smooth sailing."
"My guess is..."
"He's the one who's going to end up suffering the most."
The thought amused even Kaguya herself.
Thousands of years of imprisonment had long since distorted her perception of time, family, and even reality itself.
Now, she wished only for this grand performance to continue for as long as possible—to become ever more entertaining, so that it might ease the boundless, maddening loneliness of her eternal confinement.
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