"Hashirama's cells?"
Obito froze at the words. He'd heard tales of Hashirama's cells before.
He stared blankly at his hands, turning them over repeatedly.
His body pulsed with vibrant energy; even his chakra had grown noticeably stronger.
"That's right—Hashirama's cells."
Madara Uchiha casually swept his hand across the ground, and in the blink of an eye, a small tree sprouted.
[Wood Release]?
This time, Obito truly believed it. Aside from Hashirama's cells, he couldn't imagine how any Uchiha could wield [Wood Release].
"In time, you might be able to master it too."
Madara Uchiha didn't speak definitively. In his eyes, Obito's talent still fell short.
"I can too?"
Obito was overwhelmed by a flood of information, his mind growing hazy.
This was [Wood Release]—widely regarded as one of the rarest and most powerful Kekkei Genkai in the Ninja World!
"As long as you follow me, there won't be any problem."
Madara Uchiha seized the moment, dangling this benefit before Obito to keep him around—for now.
Once he set the next phase of his plan into motion, he wouldn't have to play nice anymore.
"No way."
"I have to go. I need to return."
The moment he heard Madara Uchiha wanted him to stay by his side, Obito snapped back to clarity.
Konoha was still waiting for him. And Rin—she must be worried sick by now.
"Your body hasn't fully recovered yet. It's best not to move around recklessly."
Obito's reaction surprised Madara Uchiha. He hadn't expected an Uchiha to feel such strong loyalty toward Konoha.
Obito hesitated briefly, choosing a not-yet-awkward excuse, and paused mid-motion while trying to stand.
"How long until I recover completely?"
After days of inactivity, Obito's limbs were stiff and awkward to move.
Plus, the recent fusion with Hashirama's cells left him feeling unsettled inside.
"That's hard to say. It depends on your recovery ability."
Madara Uchiha lied effortlessly, already plotting how to push forward with the next stage of his plan.
"Thank you very much for saving my life."
"I won't reveal anything about you to anyone. Once I can move, I'll leave."
An old man who seemed near death—and who had saved his life. Obito never once considered reporting him.
Even if that man was Madara Uchiha, Obito believed he no longer posed a threat to Konoha.
"What if I don't let you leave?"
"Would you ask me to return your life?"
Obito's sincere nature amused Madara Uchiha, prompting him to tease the boy a bit.
"I..."
Obito opened his mouth but found some words stuck inside, unable to come out.
He couldn't give back his life, but what else did he have to offer?
"Just kidding."
"You rest easy and heal properly. When the time comes, whether you choose to stay or leave is entirely up to you. I won't stop you."
Madara Uchiha gently patted Obito's head, smiling warmly.
He knew Obito was an orphan starved of parental warmth.
To think that after building a fearsome legacy over half a lifetime, he was now resorting to emotional tricks to manipulate a child.
Thinking about it made Madara Uchiha almost lose the will to smile.
Meeting Madara Uchiha's warm gaze, Obito felt a wave of warmth rise within him.
Those eyes—the Three-Tomoe Sharingan—seemed almost enchanted; the longer he gazed, the more spellbound he became, his expression growing dreamy.
"You should rest for a few days first."
Madara murmured under his breath. Putting genjutsu on a child with little resistance was almost too easy.
"Isn't this going too far?"
"Lord Madara!"
Suddenly, a tall figure appeared out of nowhere right before his eyes.
Madara was greatly startled. He immediately withdrew his hand and stepped back.
The sudden agility in that figure's movement was a sharp contrast to its earlier sluggishness.
Madara inwardly recoiled in shock — how had he failed to sense this presence at all?
This was no ordinary Shunshin technique. Could it possibly be... the Flying Thunder God Technique?
Madara's mind raced.
At this moment, staring at the silver-haired man before him, the image instantly overlapped with another long-remembered figure deep within his mind.
"Lord Kawaki?"
"Kawaki Hatake?"
Obito suddenly came to his senses, looking uneasily at Kawaki's profile.
Why would Lord Kawaki appear here?
Could it be that he came especially for me? How deeply touching.
Madara's eyes widened in shock. Zetsu said there was absolutely no one tailing us!
If it were just some random ninja, maybe understandable.
But it turned out to be someone as formidable as Kawaki Hatake.
Although their only previous clash had been through puppets, Madara knew full well the strength of this man standing before him.
Today might not end peacefully.
Nearby, Zetsu peeked up from underground, already preparing to hurriedly make up an excuse to leave.
As long as the green mountains remain, there will always be firewood. If he died now, then the mother truly would have no hope left.
At worst, he could just plan again for a few hundred years.
"It's truly an honor that you still remember someone so insignificant as me."
Kawaki half-turned, locking eyes with Madara, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"You've been messing with this boy?"
Madara caught on quickly. He now realized he had been under surveillance all along.
Yet he couldn't understand how Kawaki pinpointed exactly when he'd target Obito.
Of course, dwelling over this question now was completely pointless.
"Exactly. That black-and-white-faced man knows how to vanish too well."
"I had to resort to other methods to find you."
Kawaki admitted candidly, glancing briefly at Zetsu before returning his gaze.
One glance was enough to send icy dread crawling down Zetsu's spine. A fear unlike any he'd ever known blossomed in his heart.
He'd seen all kinds of powerful figures before—but never once had anyone directed such intense killing intent toward him.
Could they have a deep-seated grudge?
"What do you want from me?"
Madara tried stalling for time, hoping to think of a way out.
Unfortunately, his life depended entirely on the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path—he couldn't escape alone.
Once separated from the chakra supply of the statue, he wouldn't survive more than a few days.
"As a member of Konoha, do I really need a reason to eliminate traitors for the village?"
Kawaki didn't mind wasting a little breath; the situation was already decided.
"I merely disagreed with Hashirama Senju on philosophy—how is that betrayal?"
"He pursued peace—*peace?*"
"Do you mean to say your vision isn't peace either?"
Madara never considered himself a traitor. After all, he was one of the village's original founders.
"The Moon's Eye Plan, is it?"
"Turning everyone into prisoners of an illusion... can that really be called peace?"
Kawaki scoffed. Madara was too consumed by his obsession.
"Why did Kawaki Hatake know about the Moon's Eye Plan?"
White Zetsu's heart leaped into his throat. Could he actually know their true goal?
"Wouldn't that be good?"
"There will never again be war in the ninja world, and everyone will get exactly what they want."
"Why shouldn't it be called peace?"
Madara naturally wasn't shaken by just a few words from Kawaki. He didn't even notice anything strange about Kawaki revealing knowledge of the Moon's Eye Plan.
By now, the Moon's Eye Plan had become his life's purpose.
In his eyes, that was precisely what the perfect ninja world should look like!
"Of course~ not."
Suddenly, Kawaki's eyes sharpened like a hunting cheetah tensing its muscles.
Lightning surged across his entire body, illuminating the cave as bright as day.
He exploded upward with such force the ground beneath him trembled, before his figure shot forward like an arrow released from a bowstring.
As he moved, crimson markings silently flared at the corners of his eyes.
Somehow, a blade had already materialized in his grip.
The sword sliced through the air in a sharp arc, producing a shrill sound as it rushed toward Zetsu's throat at an unbelievable speed.
His body slightly leaned forward, as if channeling all his strength into this single strike.
A god of war, radiating killing intent—unstoppable, overwhelming.
Kawaki deliberately mentioned the Moon's Eye Plan—to shake Zetsu's calm.
He seized the fleeting moment without hesitation, attacking with a single intent—to kill in one strike.
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