I Am Uzumaki Menma

Chapter 372 372 White Zetsu: Madara-sama, Something Terrible Has Happened!

In an extremely hidden giant cave deep underground in the Land of Fire.

The air was cold and damp. Only the Gedo Statue's massive and monstrous form emitted a faint green glow, barely illuminating this silent space.

Madara, now seventy-two years old, his once wild lion-like hair completely snow-white, his body emaciated to the point of being almost nothing but a skeleton, sat slumped in a chair formed by black Chakra Rods extending from the Gedo Statue.

His eyes were tightly closed, his face covered with deep wrinkles and age spots, his breath weak. He relied entirely on the Chakra and life force continuously supplied by the Gedo Statue through those black rods behind him to barely maintain this body that had long reached its end from completely collapsing.

Since faking his death after the duel with Hashirama at the Valley of the End, Madara had devoted all his energy to the pursuit of greater power.

He painstakingly studied the piece of flesh he had bitten from Hashirama during that battle and transplanted it into his own body.

After decades of fusion and exploration, he finally sensed the [Power of All Creation], awakened the legendary Sage of Six Paths' eyes, the Rinnegan, and successfully summoned this Gedo Statue.

However, the price for reaching this peak was extremely heavy.

With Hashirama's death, the Chakra of Indra within him eagerly sought a new reincarnate, accelerating the decay of his already exhausted body.

Now, he possessed powerful Spiritual Energy and Ocular Power, but his body was a wreck that could only linger on, sustained by external means.

Just then, the ground in front of him wriggled slightly, and a bizarre creature slowly emerged.

Half of its body was a sickly white, appearing comical and panicked; the other half was a deep black, like solidified shadow, appearing composed and eerie.

This was the special existence he had 'created' after awakening the Rinnegan, using the Gedo Statue's power fused with a White Zetsu. He called it [Zetsu].

The white half (White Zetsu) was responsible for reconnaissance and execution, while the black half (Black Zetsu) carried his deeper will and was an important executor of his plans.

Though he did not know that this black part was truly the one pulling the strings behind the scenes, the will-born creation of Kaguya before her sealing.

"It's terrible, Madara-sama!" The White Zetsu half shouted in an exaggerated, panicked tone, waving its arms. "Amegakure! Two super strange Ninja suddenly showed up in Amegakure and started fighting! They're turning the world upside down, and half of Amegakure is already gone because of them! It's so scary!"

Madara slowly opened his Three-Tomoe Sharingan. Though aged, they remained sharp. A crimson light flashed briefly in the dim cave.

He ignored White Zetsu's clamor, turning his gaze towards the silent black half, asking in a hoarse, low voice: "Black Zetsu... is Nagato... in danger?"

His primary concern was the Rinnegan entrusted to Nagato.

That was the core of his future 'revival plan' and could not be allowed to come to harm under any circumstances.

He certainly didn't want his carefully chosen 'vessel' and eyes to be destroyed or stolen by some inexplicably appearing powerful figure.

Black Zetsu's low, echo-like voice sounded: "Based on current intelligence, Nagato is safe for now. He is with Yahiko and Konan, located at the edge of the battlefield. However..."

He paused, his tone turning grave. "The White Zetsu spores we previously implanted in those three... were discovered and completely eradicated."

"Eradicated?" Madara's brow instantly furrowed tightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his aged face.

White Zetsu's spore lurking ability was extremely potent, capable of perfectly mimicking the host's Chakra. Ordinary Sensory Ninja, even the Hyuga Clan's Byakugan, had difficulty detecting them.

And they were discovered and eradicated?

Black Zetsu continued, his voice also growing heavy: "According to intelligence pieced together by the White Zetsu lurking in Amegakure, the two enemies fighting... possess terrifying strength. One of them instantly defeated Hanzo of the Salamander upon meeting. The aftershocks of their battle have already destroyed nearly half of Amegakure. And... most crucially, both of these individuals can use black Chakra Rods!"

Upon hearing the first part about Hanzo being instantly defeated, Madara merely snorted contemptuously in his heart.

That so-called [Demigod] hyped by the Ninja World was, in his eyes, nothing more than a junior who had gained fame by chance in turbulent times, not even worthy of carrying Hashirama's shoes. His instant defeat merely confirmed his view.

He estimated that the two enemies' strength might allow them to last a few rounds against him in his prime.

However, when he heard the words 'black Chakra Rods', Madara's Three-Tomoe Sharingan pupils abruptly contracted! His body, which had been lazily leaning against the chair back, unconsciously straightened slightly!

Black Chakra Rods!

That was a Yin-Yang Release technique he had only gradually comprehended and mastered after awakening the Rinnegan!

One of the powers said to be used by the Sage of Six Paths!

In the current Ninja World, aside from himself, who could barely produce some by relying on the Gedo Statue's Chakra supply, how could there possibly be others who could use this power?!

And two unheard-of individuals at that?!

Madara's wrinkled old face became completely grave.

The ability to use black Chakra Rods meant not only formidable strength but, more critically, mastery of high-level Yin-Yang Release Techniques. Their understanding and application of Chakra's essence had likely reached a very high level.

Such enemies, their strength... was probably not inferior to his and Hashirama's peak state at the Valley of the End!

Just as Madara sank into contemplation, weighing this sudden variable, Black Zetsu beside him was far less calm internally than he appeared.

God knew what stormy waves had surged within him when the White Zetsu relayed intelligence stating that one of the guys on the battlefield had directly uttered the name 'Otsutsuki Kaguya'!

His mother's name, how could it be suddenly mentioned by someone? And in such a cursing manner!

What made him feel a nameless thread of fear was that the numerous White Zetsu's clones he had dispersed, when attempting to approach or sense that man, collectively fed back an instinctive, indescribable sense of fear and rejection!

What was White Zetsu?

They were transformed humans whose Chakra had been drained dry by the God Tree a millennium ago… war weapons, creations of his mother!

And they felt such intense fear towards a 'person'?

'Could it be... that guy bears some grudge against Mother? And that boy, does he also know about Mother?' Black Zetsu was created in a very critical situation. Kaguya had only left information about saving her, not giving Black Zetsu much information about the Otsutsuki Clan.

Therefore, when Menma and Jigen appeared, it made Black Zetsu, the mastermind behind the scenes who had schemed for a millennium, feel for the first time that things seemed to be showing signs of spiraling out of control.

At that moment, Madara, lost in thought, suddenly let out a low, hoarse laugh, yet carrying the arrogant pride of his bygone days when he had looked down upon the Ninja World.

"Keh... Hahahaha..."

He laughed, those Three-Tomoe Sharingan reigniting with the fiery and warlike light of his youth. Though his body had long decayed, the proud spirit and ambition belonging to 'Uchiha Madara' had never been worn away.

"It seems... after Hashirama's death, this Ninja World... hasn't become completely boring after all!"

He raised his head as if he could penetrate the layers of rock to see the fierce battlefield in distant Amegakure, his voice filled with the excitement and anticipation of encountering a worthy opponent:

"How I wish... to have a good fight... with these two guys!"

…

Hanzo opened his eyes with difficulty amidst a fit of violent coughing and a burning, agonizing pain in his chest and abdomen.

His vision was blurry at first, only later focusing on the gray, fragmented sky overhead, sliced by steel pipes.

The icy rain struck his face, mixing with the bloody foam seeping from the corner of his mouth.

Struggling, using every ounce of his strength, he managed to crawl out from the pile of twisted metal wreckage that had fallen on top of him.

Every movement tugged at the injury in his abdomen, sending a piercing pain through him.

He looked down and saw the armor covering his stomach had shattered and fallen off. On the exposed skin, a clear, deep-purple bruise in the shape of a footprint was a shocking sight.

It was the 'souvenir' left by that casual kick from the white-robed monk earlier.

Even worse, he felt that the salamander poison sac transplanted into his body during childhood, which had long since merged with him, had ruptured under that heavy blow.

The lethal poison was uncontrollably spreading slowly through his veins, bringing waves of bone-eroding pain and a cold, paralyzing sensation.

He knew better than anyone what this meant.

His body had entered a countdown to death.

"Cough… cough cough…" He coughed up more black blood with a metallic, sweet taste, a trace of bitterness appearing on his face.

The enemy—

was too strong.

Strong enough to easily see through and dodge his proud Iaido slash, strong enough to kick him, the Demigod of the Ninja World, aside like a ragdoll with a single casual kick, leaving him utterly defenseless.

And there were two such enemies!

A long-absent feeling, a mix of helplessness and humiliation, washed over him like a tide.

The last time he'd felt this was a decade ago, during the Second Great Ninja War, watching helplessly as the Land of Rain became a battlefield ravaged by the three great nations' Ninja Villages. He had fought with all his might, only barely managing to protect this small corner, Amegakure.

He simply reached up and forcefully tore off the gas mask that had accompanied him for most of his life and had never been removed in front of others.

Underneath the mask was a mouth covered in scars, with twisted lips, appearing exceptionally ferocious and terrifying.

Since transplanting the salamander poison sac in his youth, even his breath carried deadly poison. To avoid harming those around him, this gas mask had become his only 'protection'.

Every breath he exhaled carried a faint purple, icy toxin, every inhalation producing a hoarse sound.

Hanzo bent down, picking up the sickle weapon with a chain that had followed him through countless battles over the years from the wreckage. He gripped it tightly, as if trying to draw the last bit of strength from the cold metal.

As he staggered out of the wreckage, leaning on the sickle, the upper body armor fell off, revealing his bare torso.

When he clearly saw the scene before him, even someone like Hanzo, accustomed to life, death, and horror, felt his heart constrict violently.

Hell.

What lay before him was a scene straight out of hell.

The dozen or so elite Amegakure's Anbu he had brought, his most loyal subordinates, now all lay in a relatively open area ahead.

Without exception, they were all pierced through by pitch-black rods, nailed to the ground.

Judging from their fallen postures and the almost complete lack of struggle marks, death had come extremely suddenly. Almost in the same instant, by the same person, using the same method, their lives had been taken as easily as harvesting straw.

No resistance, no screams, only a deathly silent despair.

Hanzo exhaled a breath of purple, poisonous air, his face so gloomy it could drip water.

He raised his head, looking towards the distant core battlefield that was still continuously erupting with booms.

The figures of the two mysterious enemies moved at high speed through the curtain of rain and smoke. They were so fast he could only barely catch some blurry afterimages.

The gap in strength was like an unbridgeable chasm.

Just then, Yahiko, who was organizing the Akatsuki's members to desperately rescue the injured and carry or support them away from the danger zone, also noticed Hanzo emerging from the wreckage.

He immediately said a few words to the companions beside him, then quickly used the Body Flicker Technique, appearing before Hanzo.

"Hanzo-sama! It's great that you're okay!" Yahiko's tone held genuine concern. Even though in the 'future' shown by Menma, this hero before him would eventually raise his blade against them, at this moment, Yahiko still firmly believed that Hanzo was the hero who had protected the Land of Rain.

"The fighting here has already surpassed our capabilities. Please retreat with us! Preserving our strength is the only way to protect more people!"

Hanzo's gaze went past Yahiko, falling on the young Akatsuki's members behind him who were busy, their faces showing fear but still persisting in rescue efforts.

Their actions, though inexperienced, were filled with a pure light and hope he hadn't seen in this chaotic country for a long time.

In Hanzo's turbid eyes, flashed an extremely complex emotion, ultimately transforming into a resolve almost like a relieved determination.

He raised a heavy hand, gently patting Yahiko's still-youthful but already resolute shoulder.

Then, he took a step, brushing past Yahiko, and walked step by step towards the center of that destructive battlefield.

The moment he passed Yahiko, a low, hoarse, yet extremely solemn and entrusting voice clearly reached Yahiko's ears: "Amegakure… from now on, it's up to you."

Yahiko froze, momentarily unable to fully grasp the deep meaning and farewell contained in these words.

He instinctively turned around, only to see Hanzo already swiftly forming hand seals with both hands and pressing them on the ground!

"Summoning Technique!"

Accompanied by a huge cloud of white smoke, a giant salamander-like summoned creature, with a body size like a hill, a deep brown back, skin covered in bumps, emitting a strong fishy smell and deadly poisonous gas, the giant salamander Ibuse, appeared with a crash on the ruins!

Hanzo leaped up, landing steadily on Ibuse's head.

He took one last look back, deeply gazing at Yahiko and the ruined yet still struggling for survival Amegakure behind him. There was no longer any hesitation or confusion in his eyes.

"You two bastards!!!" Hanzo let out a deafening roar, his voice filled with long-accumulated anger, humiliation, and final madness: "This is Amegakure! It's my Amegakure! I won't let you trample all over it!! Ibuse! Poison Mist Spray!"

"Roar—!"

The giant salamander Ibuse opened its massive mouth. A thick, deep purple lethal poison mist surged out like a breached dam!

The poison mist covered an extremely wide area, rapidly spreading and sweeping towards the center of the battlefield, instantly enveloping that area in a deadly purple shroud!