Chapter 457: Uchiha Madara: Senju?
A slender stone pillar supported an enormous landmass above, like the stem of a giant mushroom.
Uchiha Madara ascended the staircase spiraling up the pillar and arrived at the top of the mushroom-like platform.
Everything suddenly went dark.
His vision narrowed and dimmed—so much so that even the Sharingan couldn't pierce the surrounding darkness.
"So this is the Black Abyss Corridor?"
Unfazed, Madara kept charging forward, his red armor clanking with each step.
Something felt off.
He abruptly halted.
His eyes spun, but he found nothing unusual.
Yet he could still hear footsteps—armor clanking—distinct from his own.
From the darkness,
A long-handled battle axe suddenly swung down.
Madara dodged the strike and countered with a kick to the attacker. His foot slammed into something in the dark—it felt like striking a cold sheet of iron.
The enemy didn't budge.
"So tough? You withstood my kick?"
Madara's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
He wasn't boasting.
In the entire shinobi world, only Hashirama Senju and perhaps that dark-skinned man who later founded the Hidden Cloud Village could match him in taijutsu.
Even factoring in armor absorption, for someone to remain completely unmoved spoke volumes of their physical might.
"Wait… it's not human?"
As his eyes adjusted, Madara finally got a good look at the attacker—and his expression hardened.
A figure fully encased in bronze armor, wielding a massive two-handed axe. The sheer presence was overwhelming.
Not even in the Warring States era—or in Hiruzen Sarutobi's time—had Madara seen such intricately crafted armor, gleaming coldly like forged steel.
But what made him call it a monster
Was that through the gaps in the armor, there was no flesh—only flickering energy light.
Completely hollow inside.
As someone who'd traversed the ninja world, Madara had never seen anything like this. His first thought was that it was some kind of monster.
Even puppeteers like the First Kazekage needed chakra threads to control their creations.
This… gave nothing away, not even under the scrutiny of the Sharingan.
"Doesn't matter who or what you are—ninja, monster, or ghost. I, Uchiha Madara, fear no one."
He formed a hand seal.
Fire Release: Dragon Flame Song Technique!
A burst of orange-red flame surged forward—chakra pushed to its limits. The flame, shaped like red dragon heads, crashed into the monster's body.
Boom boom boom...
Like fireworks bursting—visually dazzling, but with little actual damage.
The armored arms only blackened slightly. No other sign of injury.
"Tough bastard. Fire Style's just scratching an itch? How interesting."
Madara's face remained calm. He showed no sign of frustration that his jutsu hadn't worked as expected.
Though he was genuinely impressed by the durability.
According to the game's classification, his Fire Release was already [Fire Release Lv. 19], maxed out.
Even Hashirama wouldn't dare take that directly. He'd need Wood Style to defend.
"Could it be true… that this Samsara Game really grants power through monster hunting?"
Madara's eyes flickered with doubt, but his hands never stopped moving.
He formed another hand seal.
Water Release: Great Waterfall Technique!
Though best known for Fire Release, his Sharingan allowed him to replicate all nature transformations with ease.
Since Fire hadn't worked, he moved to the next step.
Even the toughest armor
Would crack under a combination of fire and water pressure.
A roaring cascade slammed into the armored monster.
Sure enough, after the heat from the flames, the water triggered thermal shock—fine cracks appeared on its surface.
Boom!
Madara followed up with a punch, shattering the monster's head.
"Pathetic."
He scoffed at the headless creature and turned to continue onward.
But the armor didn't fall.
It suddenly swung its great axe toward his neck.
"Look out!"
A magic missile flew in and struck the armor, interrupting its attack.
Then a young man with a brown scar on his forehead charged in, gripping his sword tightly, a stream of flame trailing from his mouth as he bisected the rest of the armor.
"Uncle, the Black Abyss Corridor is dangerous. Monsters like the Expellers won't die just from losing their heads—you have to destroy them entirely."
The speaker was the one who had fired the magic missile to save Madara.
He had a simple, honest-looking face and short brown hair.
There was a kind of clear-eyed foolishness in his gaze.
What caught Madara's attention most, however, was the swirl-shaped forehead protector he wore—
The symbol of Konohagakure, which he himself and that idiot Hashirama had designed.
Madara's eyes stayed calm as he asked quietly, "Who are you two?"
"My name's Tanjiro—Kamado Tanjiro."
The scarred young man introduced himself politely.
Then pointed to his companion, who was about the same age. "And this is Senju Nawaki."
"Uncle, your aura is insanely strong—your level must be high, right?"
Senju Nawaki grinned and added casually, "But your gear's pretty poor. You couldn't even beat that Expeller."
After being resurrected by his sister Tsunade, he'd begun hunting corrupted monsters.
He hadn't been at it long, but with the mobile corps supporting him, he was already equipped with a full purple gear set.
Tanjiro was a friend he'd met during those hunts. Though a bit dense, Tanjiro was unexpectedly kind and reliable.
They had hunted together from the Glen Forest all the way to the Sky Ocean.
Their bond was strong.
They'd just arrived in the Black Abyss Corridor when they spotted a strange uncle fighting an Expeller barehanded—
And winning?
Madara didn't react outwardly. He tested them: "But didn't you both just destroy that monster too? Your jutsu and sword skills seem plenty strong. I'm clearly weaker."
They were young—
But their magic missiles and sword techniques were quite powerful.
In the Warring States era, Madara at their age would've lost to them.
Nawaki shook his head. "Uncle, are you seriously clueless or just humble?"
"We beat the Expeller because we're wearing gear."
"You're unarmed, unequipped, and still crushed it using only skills. That's insanely strong!"
Tanjiro nodded emphatically. He was starting to think this "uncle" might be showing off a little.
Equipment gave players attribute bonuses.
These bonuses had no skill barrier—any player could buy gear with enough points and immediately become stronger.
But,
Skills required real talent.
In the ninja world, many players coveted Orochimaru's Necromancer class. But after switching, they realized they lacked necromancy affinity, and their skills progressed slowly.
Even players at Tier 2 sometimes had skills still stuck at low level.
By contrast, Mihawk from the pirate world, hailed as the strongest swordsman, raised his sword skills effortlessly, keeping them on par with his level.
Others tried to follow him and couldn't even forge a Sword Soul.
Game merchant Fang Yi never concealed the truth: there were massive talent gaps among players.
Everyone now knew—choosing a class required knowing your soul affinity.
A player like Madara, with such high-level skills, was unquestionably elite.
"That so?"
Madara showed no shame in fishing for information from the kids.
In the Warring States, weakness meant death. Even a child had to be treated with caution.
Of course,
What really caught his attention—
Was Nawaki's dumb smile… and the subtle resemblance to that fool Hashirama.
Senju Nawaki. By his age, he must be Hashirama's grandson?
Madara felt a wicked urge stir in his heart.
So be it. Consider this interest on your sneak attack back then. I'll play with your descendant for a while.
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