Konoha Year 48, May 20.
Konoha officially signed a ceasefire agreement with Kumo.
The speed caught everyone by surprise.
From the moment A received orders from his village on the battlefield until the ceasefire was signed, every step—discussion, debate, requests for instructions—had been compressed to the absolute minimum.
It took only three days for the ceasefire to be formally concluded.
That's right. It was only a ceasefire agreement, not a full peace treaty.
The effects were similar on the surface, but in reality they were vastly different.
Both villages' leadership knew the war was far from over. They simply each had urgent internal matters that could no longer be ignored.
A acted with his usual decisiveness. He didn't even wait for the agreement to be officially signed. On the second day he rushed back to Kumo at top speed to prepare for his succession as Fourth Raikage and the counterattack against Iwa.
"Are the things you said true?"
Orochimaru watched the busy figures in the camp. Konoha shinobi were dismantling the base. The war was over. Everyone was going home.
"Do you think I would lie to you about something like this? Besides, you saw the village's orders yourself."
Taiichi looked at Orochimaru's occasionally flicking tongue and couldn't help but shiver.
Just how far had this guy's body modification progressed? These snake-like habits weren't something that appeared once or twice.
Sensing Taiichi's gaze, Orochimaru deliberately reined in his behavior.
"Interesting, isn't it? I've made quite a few gains during this period as well."
Orochimaru rarely showed a hint of pride. This was only in front of Taiichi—someone who had always supported his research and could even provide assistance.
If only Taiichi could be a little more open-minded about human experimentation, it would be perfect.
After a brief moment of showing off, Orochimaru didn't wait for a reply before steering the conversation back.
"Uchiha Madara and Wood Release… hearing it still feels hard to believe. If it weren't you telling me, I would've thought the person saying it was an idiot."
This was exactly why Taiichi had come. Otherwise, he couldn't have convinced Orochimaru to accept such a lenient ceasefire.
Anyone else bringing the same information would have been suspected of having hidden motives.
"Uchiha Madara should truly be dead by now. His fight with me already overdrew his life force using secret techniques.
As for Wood Release, besides Uchiha Madara, there seems to be a type of artificial life form on their side that can also use it."
Orochimaru's tongue once again extended and licked around his face. This had clearly become an unconscious habit when he was excited.
"Truly… exciting. I thought the ninja world's windmill was finally going to stop turning, but now a new wind has come."
Orochimaru turned to look at Taiichi. His eyes burned with unmistakable desire.
"That kind of artificial life form—you have a sample, don't you? Otherwise you wouldn't have reached the conclusion that it's artificial life."
Taiichi smiled lightly and nodded. "Lord Orochimaru is as sharp as ever. I already handed the corpse over to the village. You should be able to see it once you return."
"I'm already getting impatient. Taiichi, you really brought me good news."
Land of Earth. Madara's secret base.
Compared to several months ago, the place had clearly been expanded. The once jagged rocks had all been cleared away.
This had been the final hiding place of the ninja world's Asura, Uchiha Madara. Now it was the starting point for the new "Madara."
In the center of the empty cavern, two figures crossed like ghosts.
Shing.
The sound of kunai clashing flashed and disappeared. The black shadow waved its hand and sent several wooden spikes flying.
The spikes moved like lightning, at impossible angles, and instantly pierced through Obito's body before he could even turn around.
However, the expected scene of Wood Release impalement never appeared.
The wooden spikes passed straight through Obito's body as if piercing empty air and embedded themselves into the rock wall behind him, sending stone fragments flying.
Obito's figure rippled like water. The single eye exposed beneath his mask—the triangular Mangekyo Sharingan—slowly spun. Its cold gaze pierced through space and locked onto the attacker.
"Useless."
The hoarse, low voice rang out. He was clearly deliberately imitating the way Madara used to speak.
The attacker was Black Zetsu. With his strength, sparring with the current Obito was more than enough.
Looking at Obito standing there completely unharmed, Black Zetsu's strange yin-yang face twisted into a distorted expression of "satisfaction."
"Perfect intangibility, Lord 'Madara.'"
Black Zetsu's voice was hoarse yet fawning. "Your control has already reached perfection. Even when caught completely off guard, you can still use intangibility flawlessly. In battle, you are now almost invincible."
Obito—or rather, the current "Uchiha Madara"—solidified once more.
He wore the ancient dark robe Madara had left behind. His face was hidden behind a swirling orange mask, revealing only his crimson Mangekyo Sharingan.
"Eye techniques are ultimately your own power."
Obito's voice was completely flat. The mask hid every expression.
"Reality and the other dimension are separated by only a single thought. Ordinary attacks are well within my reaction speed." He tilted his head slightly. That lone Mangekyo coldly "looked" at Black Zetsu. "Your method of attack is still too monotonous."
Black Zetsu wasn't angered. Instead, he gave a low chuckle.
"Monotonous, yet effective. At the very least, it proves that Lord Madara has completely shed the weakness and flaws of the past. In direct combat, no one can touch you anymore."
He paused, his tone turning serious. "These past few months of training have yielded excellent results. Not only have you fully mastered intangibility, your control over Wood Release has also become far more precise. The power we've accumulated is already enough to take the next step."
At the mention of power, Obito unconsciously reached toward his left eye—only to touch the cold surface of the mask.
"Those damn Iwa shinobi blinded my left eye. Otherwise, with both Mangekyo active, my strength would be even greater."
Obito's clenched fist trembled slightly. The resentment in his heart was difficult to suppress. At the exact moment he needed power the most, he had lost one of his Mangekyo. The world was truly unfair.
Black Zetsu listened to Obito's complaint and silently lowered his head. He had no intention of letting Obito know that he had been the one who removed the left eye—and that it was currently stored in a hidden location.
The resentment lasted only a moment. As long as it didn't involve Rin, Obito's emotions usually faded quickly. Once he calmed down, he immediately steered the conversation back on track.
"How is Nagato doing now? Has the cultivation of those Rinnegan—Madara's Rinnegan—been going smoothly?"
Black Zetsu immediately answered, his voice carrying a trace of urgency.
"Nagato previously killed Hanzō of the Salamander and is now the leader of Amegakure. He hides in the high tower of the Hidden Rain every day, acting like a god, yet he wants to create a world of peace."
Black Zetsu curled his lip in disdain. Someone with ambition but no actual plan of action could only be called naive.
"Hehe, isn't that perfect? He has the ambition, we have the method. We can cooperate."
Obito fell silent for a moment. No one could see the expression beneath the mask. But his gaze grew deeper and colder.
"Nagato… those eyes that belong to Madara… that belong to me."
His voice dropped, carrying three parts mockery and seven parts self-derision.
"Possessing them does give you the capital to become a god. I only hope you can also see this world clearly. Understand that the Eye of the Moon is the key to saving it."
"You are correct, Lord Madara."
Black Zetsu's voice was filled with agreement and anticipation.
"Nagato has experienced pain. We will guide him. We will make him understand—only Lord Madara's Infinite Tsukuyomi is the one true salvation that can end all suffering."
"Enough. It's time. We've hidden long enough. It's time we went to meet this so-called 'god.'"
Obito waved his large hand, having already decided on the next phase of the plan.
Black Zetsu bowed deeply, lowering his posture to the extreme. On his yin-yang face was a strange smile that mixed the fanaticism of a believer with the satisfaction of a schemer who had gotten his way.
"As you command, Lord Madara."
Land of Rain.
As a small nation caught between three great powers, this land had long been a battlefield for the major countries. Countless civilians had died.
Especially during the Second Great Ninja War, when Hanzō of the Salamander became Amegakure's leader. In an attempt to change the Land of Rain's weak position, he had proactively declared war on Konoha, Sunagakure, and Iwagakure.
That war had completely destroyed one generation of Amegakure and plunged the Land of Rain even deeper into the flames of war.
Since the start of the Third War, however, unknown changes had occurred here.
Amegakure. Ever since Nagato killed Hanzō and seized full control of the village, the already constantly rainy village had seen even fewer clear days.
This was the result of Nagato using the Rain Tiger at Will Technique to maintain long-term surveillance over the entire Hidden Rain.
His overwhelming strength and absolute control had brought a rare moment of peace to this war-torn village.
Perhaps out of fear of the former "Demi-God of the Ninja World," none of the three great nations had brought the flames of the Third War into this battered country while he remained passive.
Combined with Nagato's strict control, the Land of Rain was now one of the few nations that had managed to recover some vitality during the Third War.
Inside the central tower.
Pain—the public ruler of the Land of Rain and former leader of the Akatsuki—stood before the window, gazing at the peaceful village.
Three meters behind him, Konan stood silently. Her black robe with red clouds had not a single wrinkle. The white paper flower in her hair glowed faintly in the dim light.
Yet her violet eyes held no trace of calm as she looked at the village. Only bottomless worry, locked firmly onto Pain's lifeless back.
Ever since that incident, Nagato's body had been deteriorating day by day. Great power always came at a price.
Nagato was now nothing but skin and bones. His frail body could only move with the help of a wheelchair.
When he needed to go out and display his power, he had to use the puppet made from Yahiko's remains standing before her.
"Cough— cough—"
A suppressed cough that sounded like it was trying to expel his internal organs came from Pain's mouth, carrying an incongruous sense of weakness that broke the silence of the tower.
Konan's heart clenched. She took half a step forward, her fingertips trembling.
"Nagato—"
She knew the one actually coughing wasn't the puppet in front of her, but Nagato hidden behind the scenes, controlling it.
His control over his power had already slipped to the point where his main body's condition was being directly reflected onto the clone.
Pain slowly turned around. Those violet Rinnegan calmly "gazed" at Konan. His voice was as cold as ever, yet carried a barely perceptible trace of reassurance that belonged to the real person.
"There's no need to worry, Konan. These episodes have already become less frequent, haven't they? I'm gradually getting used to this pain.
Pain is the price of power. We have already obtained the power of a god."
His gaze, through Pain's eyes, seemed to pierce through the rain and look toward the wider ninja world filled with war and hatred.
"Look at the Land of Rain now. This brief peace proves that power is the correct path.
When we fully master that power—when the world personally experiences the pain of divine judgment—true, eternal peace will finally descend.
Whether it's the Five Great Nations or the chains of hatred, everything will be crushed and remade before these eyes. We are the only path to peace."
Konan looked at him. The worry in her eyes remained, and had only grown deeper.
It wasn't doubt in the power itself. It was fear that this body carrying their dreams and strength was about to collapse.
The future was indeed beautiful. But could this frail body really endure until that future arrived?
"But Nagato, your body—"
Konan's voice carried a barely noticeable tremor. The concern almost broke through her usual cold demeanor.
"It doesn't matter." Pain's tone carried unquestionable resolve, as if trying to dispel the gloom in Konan's heart. "This temporary pain is for—"
He didn't finish.
A low, hoarse voice suddenly exploded in the sealed core space of the tower.
"The path of a god… truly a moving belief, Pain— or should I say, Nagato!"
The voice seemed to come from the void, yet also whispered directly beside their ears.
Pain's Rinnegan instantly erupted with terrifying cold light. His icy gaze shot toward the source of the voice like a physical blade.
Konan reacted even faster. She raised her hand lightly. Countless pure white sheets of paper shot out from her sleeves, hair, and even the shadows at her feet as if they had lives of their own.
In an instant they wove into an airtight wall of paper around her and Pain, firmly protecting them.
Space twisted and spun strangely less than five meters in front of them, forming an invisible vortex.
The next instant, a figure emerged from the distortion like ink bleeding across paper. Without any warning, he stepped through space and stood on the cold floor.
He wore an ancient dark robe. His posture was upright yet carried an indescribable sense of emptiness.
The most striking feature was the swirling orange mask that covered his entire face, revealing only a single crimson eye at the right socket.
The masked man's appearance carried no chakra fluctuation whatsoever. He completely ignored the lethal paper barrier flickering in front of him, standing casually.
That lone crimson eye looked at Pain's Rinnegan with great interest.
"However, if you're already struggling this much to maintain a small village like Amegakure, how do you plan to spread your ideals across the entire ninja world?"
Before he even finished speaking, the countless paper sheets in the air had already folded into shuriken and shot toward him.
But the masked man remained completely unfazed. Instead, he spread his arms wide, as if welcoming the attack.
The paper shuriken passed straight through him like they were piercing an illusion. Wave after wave had no effect whatsoever.
Pain, who had been quietly observing until now, finally raised his right hand and aimed it at the masked man.
Shinra Tensei.