336-340

Chapter 336: A Fool’s Errand  

"Good. Since you’re so eager, I’ll leave the command of this undead army to you." 

"Go on—don’t disappoint me!"  

Pleased by the offer, Sukeshirō readily handed over control of the 60,000-strong undead legion—painstakingly gathered from battlefields across the land—to Muranaka Takeo.  

"Mori Sei, you’ll follow Muranaka’s orders and cooperate with him in this battle. Understood?"  

Sukeshirō turned to a blue-haired young man in combat gear standing behind him—the puppeteer controlling all the reanimated shinobi and the undead forces.  

"Yes, Lord Sukeshirō!"  

Mori Sei shot Muranaka a glance, his eyes flashing with disdain. He despised bootlickers like Muranaka who rose through flattery rather than skill.  

"Move out!" 

"Muranaka, prove yourself. Don’t let me down!"  

With a wave of his hand, Sukeshirō dismissed them.  

"I swear on my life, I will not fail your expectations, Lord Sukeshirō! I will repay your faith in me with absolute loyalty!"  

Muranaka’s face was the picture of fervent gratitude—so convincing that no one would guess it was an act.  

Sukeshirō, thoroughly pleased, burst into laughter. This Muranaka really knows how to make a man feel respected, he thought smugly.  

"Advance!"  

But the moment Muranaka turned away, a faint smirk curled on his lips.  

"After this battle, ‘Muranaka Takeo’ will cease to exist."  

He knew neither Sukeshirō nor Yoru would let him live. Sukeshirō would execute him for betrayal, and Yoru would never trust a turncoat who abandoned his master to save his own skin.  

His only chance? Disappear into the chaos of war.  

"Don’t interfere with my command." 

"And don’t give me any reckless orders. Just because Lord Sukeshirō favors you doesn’t mean I’ll respect you."  

As they marched to intercept the fleeing Mist ninja, Mori Sei glared at Muranaka with icy warning.  

"Relax. You’ll have full autonomy. If my orders are flawed, ignore them and act on your own judgment." 

"If things go wrong, I’ll take the blame. Do as you see fit."  

Muranaka’s unexpected compliance caught Mori Sei off guard. Usually, bootlickers like him were arrogant, micromanaging amateurs who’d throw tantrums at the slightest dissent—even threatening to tattle to their superiors.  

Why was Muranaka different?  

Watching Mori Sei’s bafflement, Muranaka almost laughed.  

Little does he know what’s waiting for him.  

Would he interfere with Mori Sei’s command? Never.  

60,000 troops sounded like a lot—against any other village, maybe.  

But their enemy was Kirigakure.  

A village of madmen.  

This army? Barely an appetizer for them.  

No, Muranaka wouldn’t risk his own neck with reckless tactics. His only goal now was to lead these forces straight into Yoru’s trap—then vanish.  

Whatever happened between Mori Sei and Yoru? Not his problem.  

"Hmph. At least you know your place."  

Mori Sei sneered, already envisioning his triumph.  

"Yoru, today I’ll prove that relics like you are obsolete. The new era belongs to us!" 

"My name will shake the shinobi world!"  

His eyes burned with ambition—the hunger for power, for glory.  

Meanwhile, with Sukeshirō…  

"Wait… Wasn’t Muranaka leading 60,000 troops as the vanguard against the Land of Water?" 

"Why did he come alone to greet me, then volunteer to lead the undead army? Where are his original forces?"  

The excitement faded as suspicion crept in.  

"Unless…"  

A horrifying possibility struck him.  

"No… He wouldn’t dare…"  

His pulse spiked.  

Please, let me be wrong.  

What if Muranaka’s army had been wiped out? What if he’d defected to Yoru—and this was a trap?  

"Impossible. Sixty thousand troops couldn’t be annihilated in just over an hour. That’s absurd!"  

He tried to rationalize it, but the unease festered.  

A cold dread slithered down his spine. His instincts screamed: Danger.  

Then—  

"Sukeshirō, was it?"  

A voice cut through the air.  

"Who’s there?!" Sukeshirō barked, whirling around—only to freeze.  

"You—?! But you’re supposed to be—!"  

Standing before him was none other than Yoru, grinning.  

"Leading a retreat? Funny. I orchestrated your isolation. So of course I’m here."  

Sukeshirō’s blood turned to ice.  

"Are you saying… Muranaka betrayed me?!"  

His face darkened with murderous fury.  

"Smart prey chooses the winning pack. What’s wrong with that?" Yoru smirked.  

"Well played, Yoru. I underestimated you." Sukeshirō spat. "But you’re a fool to face me alone. Did you think I’d leave myself defenseless?"  

"Perfect. I’ll crush you first, then deal with that traitor Muranaka. Neither of you escapes."  

Arrogance dripped from his words—as if Yoru were already beneath him.  

"Oh? Do enlighten me. Show me this ‘trump card’ of yours."  

Yoru crossed his arms, utterly unfazed.  

"You dare look down on me?!"  

"Yoru, your arrogance will be your downfall. I’ll show you true despair!" 

"Against them, even you will be crushed like a dog!"  

"Last chance. Surrender now, and I’ll spare you the humiliation."  

Sukeshirō’s gaze was venomous, as if offering mercy was a privilege.  

Chapter 337: "As If You Could Control Them!"  

"Enough with the theatrics. Hurry it up!" 

"I’m dying to see just how powerful this ‘ultimate weapon’ of yours really is!"  

Yoru raised an eyebrow. "Though, if your so-called ‘ultimate weapon’ is Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha, save yourself the trouble." 

"With your level of skill, controlling even one of them is impossible."  

Keitarō’s face twisted in shock. "How do you know my trump card?! Was it Muranaka Yūdai? That TRAITOR!" 

"Damn you, Yūdai! I’ll flay you alive for this!"  

But then he sneered, regaining his composure. "So what if you know? Against Hashirama and Madara, even YOU stand no chance!" 

"Taste despair, Yoru. This is a power beyond your worst nightmares!"  

With a roar, Keitarō slammed his hands onto the ground. "Edo Tensei!"  

BOOM!  

Two coffins erupted from the earth in front of Yoru, their oppressive aura alone enough to freeze blood.  

CRACK!  

The lid of the left coffin shattered. Out stepped a man with wild, spiky black hair, clad in crimson armor, arms crossed—exuding arrogance like a birthright.  

"Finally summoned me, Obito?" he muttered, his Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan swirling to life. The sheer weight of his presence distorted the air, crushing everyone’s breath in their throats.  

Absolutely terrifying.  

But when his gaze landed on Keitarō instead of "Obito," his brow furrowed. "Who the hell are you? Where’s Obito? Did he secure Nagato’s Rinnegan yet?"  

Keitarō, unfazed, barked back: "Listen well, Madara Uchiha! I am your master, Keitarō! You will obey my every command!" 

"Kill that man NOW, or I’ll unmake you with a thought!"  

For a heartbeat, silence.  

Then—Madara laughed. A deep, mocking laugh that scraped like a blade. "Master? YOU? Don’t make me laugh." 

"No one controls Uchiha Madara."  

WHOOSH!  

Without lifting a finger, Madara’s chakra slammed down. Keitarō’s knees buckled under the pressure, bones creaking as he collapsed face-first into the dirt. The ground splintered; the air itself writhed.  

"Guh—! Wh-Why can’t I—?!" Keitarō’s eyes bulged in horror.  

"My, my. Still the same old Madara, I see."  

A leisurely voice cut through the tension. Madara’s head snapped up—and for the first time in decades, shock flickered across his face.  

"You…! How are you still alive?!"  

Yoru hadn’t aged a day.  

"Heh. Long time no see," Yoru mused, ignoring the question. Instead, he glanced beside Madara. "Though I gotta say… I never thought I’d witness THIS reunion."  

Madara followed his gaze—and froze.  

"Hashirama…?!"  

There stood the God of Shinobi himself, arms folded, grinning like this was just another sparring match.  

Madara’s shock melted into ecstatic bloodlust. "HAHAHA! Fate’s smiling on me today! Hashirama, let’s settle this—RIGHT NOW!"  

But Keitarō? Utterly lost.  

Why weren’t they obeying?!  

He strained to exert control, but—nothing.  

"WHY?!" he screamed. "I could command every other Edo Tensei! Why not THEM?!" 

"Damn you, Orochimaru! Did you SCAM me?!"  

Yoru chuckled. "You really thought you could leash gods?" 

"An ant can’t command a dragon. The gap between you and them is that vast." 

"Honestly, if you had controlled them, I’d be the one panicking right now."  

Keitarō’s face purpled with rage. "You—! You BAITED me!" 

"You wanted me to summon them just to HUMILIATE ME!"  

Yoru clapped slowly. "Bravo. Took you long enough to figure it out."  

"YOU SON OF A—!"  

SMASH!  

A colossal skeletal blue fist pancaked Keitarō into the earth mid-rant.  

"Shut up," Madara growled. Then, turning to Hashirama, his voice dripped with combat lust: "Fight me, Hashirama. No more delays."  

But Hashirama raised a hand. "Wait." His gaze locked onto Yoru. "The shinobi world’s at war, isn’t it?"  

Yoru shrugged. "Sharp as ever. Yeah, it’s chaos out there." 

"Oh, and Hashirama? Your precious Konoha’s on the verge of collapse. Just a heads-up."  

He then shot Madara a dry look. "I was enjoying Keitarō’s little meltdown, you know." 

"But nooo, you had to one-punch him into a coma. Still as fun-killing as ever, Madara."  

Chapter 338 -339: You’ve Been Played Too  

"Back then, I just wanted to enjoy the scenery of Konoha in peace—but you had to pick a fight with me!" 

"Now, I’m trying to savor the slow despair of an insect, and you interrupt me again. Uchiha Madara, did I owe you in a past life or something?"  

Madara scoffed. "What a pointless hobby." 

"You’re so bored that tormenting ants amuses you? Pathetic. I’m ashamed to share the same battlefield."  

Yoru shrugged. "Easy for you to say. After a few years of being invincible, you’d do the same."  

"Hah! Not in a hundred years." 

"If it were me, I’d find a successor—mold them to carry out my will." 

"Not waste time toying with trash like you."  

Madara crossed his arms, his disdain palpable.  

"That’s just because you’re stuck in that weak body. Give you my power, and you’d be no better." 

"Oh, right—" Yoru’s tone shifted, mockingly cheerful. "I’ve got some juicy news for you. Wanna hear it?"  

Madara’s brow twitched. "Spit it out."  

"Your precious successor, Uchiha Obito? I killed him."  

"WHAT?!"  

Madara’s chakra flared, his gaze sharp enough to cut steel. "You dare interfere with my plans?! Do you have a death wish?!"  

Yoru didn’t even blink. "Don’t get your robes in a twist. I’ve got something even better." 

"It’s about your little Moon’s Eye Plan."  

Madara’s eyes narrowed. "Talk. Now."  

"That ‘will of yours,’ Zetsu, who’s been licking your boots all these years? His real identity is—"  

Yoru spilled everything—how Black Zetsu had manipulated the shinobi world for centuries, stoking wars, altering the Uchiha Stone Tablet to mislead Madara, and how the entire Moon’s Eye Plan was a scam to revive Kaguya Ōtsutsuki.  

"Infinite Tsukuyomi won’t give you a dream world with your brother, Izuna. It’ll turn everyone into White Zetsu—mindless puppets for Kaguya’s army." 

"You’d fight, die, then get recycled as a tree. Congrats, you’d be fertilizer."  

Madara’s face darkened with each word.  

"This… can’t be."  

The God of Shinobi, the legendary Madara—played like a fool by some shadow?  

"It’s the truth," Yoru said. "You should thank me. I captured Zetsu and wrung the facts out of him." 

"Test it yourself if you don’t believe me. But if you do—well, I’ll have to stop you."  

Their clash would level countries. Neither wanted that.  

Nearby, Hashirama Senju—Madara’s eternal rival—stroked his chin.  

"So I’m Ashura’s reincarnation? Our battles were fate? …Chilling." 

He nodded to Yoru. "Thanks for the intel. But I’ve got business in Konoha first." 

Turning to Madara, he warned: "No wreaking havoc while I’m gone. Or I’ll drag you to hell myself—corpse or not."  

Madara snorted. "Relax. Even if I wanted to, he wouldn’t let me."  

Yoru grinned. "Damn right." 

"You’ve got an immortal body now, but you’re weaker than your prime. I crushed you then—I’ll do it again."  

Madara’s eye twitched. Arrogant? Yes. But Yoru could back it up.  

"Then let’s go watch a show."  

Yoru dashed toward the Mist ninja’s battlefield, not even glancing back.  

Madara followed.  

He was curious—how strong had this era’s shinobi become?  

Meanwhile, on the battlefield…  

"Hahaha! Hell yeah! This is the fight I wanted!" 

Suigetsu Hōzuki charged at his reanimated brother, Mangetsu—the legendary master of all Seven Mist Swords.  

Nearby, Zabuza Momochi eyed the six former Mist Swordsmen with a grim smirk.  

"Heh. Brought out the whole gang, huh?"  

Chapter 339 

The former users of the Seven Ninja Swords: 

• Hozuki Mangetsu: Leader of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen and previous wielder of the twin swords, Hiramekarei! 

• Fuguki Suikazan: Previous wielder of the great sword, Samehada! 

• Jinpachi Munashi: Previous wielder of the blast sword, Shibuki! 

• Kushimaru Kuriarare: Previous wielder of the long sword, Nuibari! 

• Jinin Akebino: Previous wielder of the blunt sword, Kabutowari! 

• Raiga Kurosuki: Previous wielder of the lightning blade, Kiba! 

"I never thought I'd fight you all again in my lifetime!" Juzo Biwa, the sole survivor of the previous Seven Ninja Swordsmen, licked his lips. "I really want to fight you, but unfortunately, you're for these youngsters!" 

Behind him, Rin, Chojuro, and Haku all drew their weapons. They faced the six predecessors, their eyes filled with fighting spirit. The six former Seven Ninja Swordsmen, now without their blades, were only as strong as ordinary jonin. They were perfect as whetstones for Haku and the others! 

"You bastards, how dare you look down on me! Don't joke around!" 

Fuguki Suikazan was the first to lose his temper at being underestimated, roaring as he charged forward. 

"Ninja Art: Needle Senbon!" 

His long brown hair whipped up, transforming into a rain of senbon that shot out. Behind him, Kushimaru Kuriarare darted out like a ghost. As the former wielder of the long sword Nuibari, his key traits were speed and unpredictable movements. He headed straight for Haku! Nobody said they couldn't reclaim their ninja blades! If Chojuro and the others dared to use them as whetstones, then they should be ready for their retaliation! 

"Ice Release: Freezing Eyes!" 

Facing the charging Kushimaru Kuriarare, Haku remained calm, her bright eyes shimmering. She unleashed terrifying freezing power, causing frost to instantly form on Kushimaru's body, severely limiting his movements. He quickly retreated, his gaze much more solemn. He hadn't expected Haku to be a Kekkei Genkai user. 

"I can't believe Hidden Mist Village now allows Kekkei Genkai users to exist. It seems things have happened in the village that we don't know about," he muttered softly. 

Behind him, Jinpachi Munashi charged forward again. Seeing Kushimaru forced back by Haku, he couldn't help but mock him, "You're truly an embarrassment to us. Without your ninja blade, you can't even defeat a little girl." 

"Move aside, move aside, watch me show you something!" 

The Seven Ninja Swordsmen. Though called a single entity, they weren't entirely united in reality. 

"Ice Release: A Thousand Flying Water Needles of Death!" 

Facing the charging Jinpachi Munashi, Haku formed a single hand seal, then stomped heavily, sending water splashing everywhere. It then transformed into terrifying senbon, enveloping Jinpachi Munashi. 

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!" 

At this, even Jinpachi Munashi had to retreat quickly; he felt an acute sense of danger. 

"Water Release: Water Fang Bullet!" 

But before Jinpachi Munashi could land, a torrent surged from the ground behind him, forming a massive, fanged, conical water wave that pierced through the air. If he were hit, Jinpachi Munashi would surely be severely wounded. His lifelong reputation would truly be ruined! 

"Kushimaru Kuriarare, save me!" 

At this moment, Jinpachi Munashi no longer cared about having mocked Kushimaru Kuriarare earlier and urgently called for help. 

"Whoosh!" 

Kushimaru Kuriarare's speed was truly impressive; he managed to save Jinpachi Munashi at the last second. 

"Be careful, this little girl isn't simple..." Kushimaru Kuriarare put Jinpachi Munashi down. He was about to say that Haku's strength was good and that they should fight with full power, but he was startled to find that Haku had already vanished from their sight. 

"Are you looking for me?" 

Haku's voice came from behind the two, making their hair stand on end and their pupils shrink. Without thinking, they immediately retreated. 

"Why are you two in such a hurry to leave?" But Haku was like a maggot attached to a bone, appearing before them even faster. With a single punch, Jinpachi Munashi was sent reeling backward! Kushimaru Kuriarare was shocked and before he could react, he saw a cold glint from Haku's hand. The long sword Nuibari, which looked like an enlarged iron needle, was used by Haku like a senbon, piercing through his chest. 

"Nuibari Formation!" 

Haku's voice echoed in Kushimaru Kuriarare's ear. He only saw a blur of Haku's illusionary figure pass by, and then he was bound tightly with fine, flexible steel wires, like a zongzi. 

"Damn brat, don't get too cocky!" Seeing Kushimaru Kuriarare dealt with so quickly, Jinpachi Munashi couldn't stay calm. Intense chakra erupted from him, and he slammed the ground, shouting, "Ninja Art: Explosive Tag Technique!" 

The ground beneath Haku's feet instantly transformed into a stack of explosive tags, about to detonate. 

However— 

What perplexed Jinpachi Munashi was that Haku showed no intention of dodging! She simply held Kushimaru Kuriarare, and then the space behind her suddenly twisted, forming a vortex that sucked her in. 

"Boom, boom, boom!" 

Jinpachi Munashi's attack hit nothing, exploding into an empty silence! 

"Is this all the Seven Ninja Swordsmen are capable of?" A handsome, silver-haired young man with a red dot on his forehead appeared from the spatial vortex, looking indifferently at Jinpachi Munashi. "You've disappointed me somewhat!" 

With that, a bone spike extended from his hand. "Since that's the case, let's finish you quickly!" With those words, he pounced on Jinpachi Munashi like a fierce tiger. 

"Arrogant! 'Finish me quickly'? Do you really think you have that kind of strength?!" Jinpachi Munashi's mind exploded. When had he ever been so belittled? As one of the esteemed Seven Ninja Swordsmen, he was always feared and respected wherever he went, but today he was looked down upon by a mere brat. He was determined to make this arrogant brat understand his power. 

But the moment they clashed, his expression instantly changed. His attacks passed right through the young man's body, completely ineffective against him. 

"How is that possible?!" He had never known the Kaguya clan to have such a Kekkei Genkai ability. Weren't their abilities supposed to be manipulating their entire body's bones as weapons? When did it become possible to make attacks ineffective? 

But reality didn't give him much time to think. The young man, Kimimaro Kaguya, brushed past Jinpachi Munashi, and with a backhanded bone spike, he instantly pierced through Jinpachi Munashi's body. 

"Dance of the Clematis!" 

The moment he spoke, a mass of sharp, slender bone spikes shot out from inside Jinpachi Munashi's body, as if a thorny bush had bloomed within him. Jinpachi Munashi instantly turned into a bone-spiked monstrosity, his entire body severely damaged. Fortunately, he was currently in an Impure World Reincarnation body, completely devoid of pain. Otherwise, this kind of torturous attack would have killed Jinpachi Munashi from sheer agony. Of course, if Jinpachi Munashi had truly endured this attack in a living body, he wouldn't have survived for more than half an hour. 

Chapter 340: Not Bad  

That single strike— 

A lethal blow from within, shredding organs, veins, every vital point. No chance of survival.  

The surrounding Mist ninja watched, their scalps prickling with dread. Their gazes toward Hōzuki Kimimaro now carried something new: fear.  

This… is brutality.  

Just watching made their own bodies ache in sympathy.  

"Sealing team, wrap it up."  

Kimimaro withdrew his hand as Muri's mangled body collapsed. The sealing corps moved swiftly, binding the remains.  

Above the battlefield…  

"Hmph. That kid’s not bad. Decent skills."  

Madara Uchiha rarely gave praise—but his crimson eyes soon sharpened as he turned to Yoru.  

"Though, if I recall correctly, those Sharingan belonged to Obito Uchiha." 

"Care to explain why they’re now in his sockets?"  

His voice dripped menace.  

The Sharingan was the Uchiha clan’s sacred treasure, never to be shared. Yet Yoru had not only transplanted them into an outsider—he’d let Kimimaro flaunt them right in front of Madara.  

Did he think the Ghost of the Uchiha had no pride?  

Yoru waved a hand lazily. "If it fits, why not? Waste not, want not." 

"Look how well he wields them—no rejection, no drawbacks. Perfect compatibility." 

"Besides, the Hōzuki and Uchiha share distant blood. Call it… fate’s design." 

"Would you rather Obito’s eyes rot in the grave? That would be the real waste."  

Madara’s glare could’ve frozen lava. "That’s your excuse?"  

Yoru smirked. "Got a better one?"  

"I could pluck those eyes out right now." Madara’s chakra flared, the air crackling.  

"Try it." Yoru’s grin turned razor-edged. "Let’s see who blinks first."  

Silence.  

Then—  

"Tch."  

Madara looked away. Concession.  

Kimimaro kept his eyes.  

Below, the battle raged on.  

With a flick of his Sharingan, Kimimaro released two bound figures: Kushimaru Kuriarare and Haku.  

Kushimaru was sealed instantly.  

Two of the Seven down.  

Suigetsu, Ameyuri, and Chōjūrō exchanged grim glances. The pressure was mounting.  

"We’re falling behind. Time to step up."  

Kimimaro and Haku had already taken out two enemies. They couldn’t afford to lag.  

"Hey, brats—what’s with those looks?" 

"You think we’re easy prey?!"  

Kisame Hoshigaki bared his shark-like teeth, irritation flaring.  

Suigetsu grinned. "Why not? Right, bro?"  

His brother, Mangetsu, chuckled. "Show me what you’ve got, little brother. No holding back."  

Seeing Suigetsu grown into a formidable shinobi filled him with pride. He had no regrets.  

"Don’t think your numbers mean shit!" Kisame snarled, eyeing Kimimaro and Ameyuri. "We’ll crush you either way!"  

"Ah, sorry—we won’t be joining."  

Haku’s gentle voice cut in like a slap.  

Kisame’s eye twitched.  

They were being looked down on by kids?!  

"YOU LITTLE—!"  

Kisame lunged, a tidal wave of fury—  

CLANG!  

A blade intercepted him mid-air.  

"If you’re feeling ignored… how about a match with me?"  

A young man with a sword grinned, eyes alight with battle lust.  

"…Who the hell are you?"  

Kisame’s grip on Samehada tightened. This kid’s aura—dense, electric, dangerous—outshone even Suigetsu’s.  

Just standing near him made Kisame’s instincts scream: "Even with Samehada… this won’t be easy."  

"Name’s Shōta Nakamura. Doesn’t ring a bell, right? Just think of me as… nobody special."  

The Mist ninja collectively facepalmed.  

"Nobody special?! Buddy, you could solo half of us!"  

"Then—here I come!"  

BOOM!  

Shōta vanished. Kisame barely registered the movement before—  

*"RAIKIRI SLASH!"*  

A blade wreathed in lightning slammed into Samehada, sending Kisame flying.  

"Guh—!"  

He skidded back meters, boots carving trenches in the earth.  

Mangetsu and Raiga stared, dumbfounded.  

"…Nobody special, my ass."  

Kisame spat blood, snarling. "You little shit—you think this is a game?!"  

Shōta smirked, lightning crackling around him.  

"Nah. Just fun."