Konoha: The Thirty-Year-Old Uchiha Can’t Be Bothered

Chapter 332: Good News, Not a Darkening. Bad News, the Ancestor Is Playing on His Account



Chapter 332: Good News, Not a Darkening. Bad News, the Ancestor Is Playing on His Account

"REVOLVE ON!"

Expressionless, Madara lifted his head. His once-yellow fox-eyes had completely turned into an eerie black-blue. With a twist of his hand, the buckle at his waist spun smoothly.

The once-strange buckle burst open—becoming a seated black-blue Kyūbi, radiating ominous power. Its violet fox-eyes gleamed with soul-piercing malice.

"Darkness Boost!"

"Sorry, Madara… you're not yourself right now."

Sensing danger, Hashirama clapped his hands together. Thick wooden vines erupted from the ground around Madara.

"Mokuton: Ibara Goroshi no Jutsu (Wood Style: Thorn Killing Technique)!"

But before the wood could bind him, Madara's hand brushed the buckle's edge. He snapped it back with a motion.

"Cross Geats!"

The black-blue Kyūbi on his waist glowed red. A chilling aura surged out, nine black fox tails whipping into existence. They shattered the wooden bindings instantly. As splinters rained down, Madara's long transformation sequence finally ended.

The black tails swayed, and the fusion of intellect and dread stepped forward—Shinigami Knight, the Black Fox!

"Ready Fight!"

"Madara?"

Hashirama's eyes narrowed, voice cautious.

"…."

No reply came. His friend stood in silence, like muted.

"Madara, this isn't funny…"

The knight radiated a deathly coldness, as if burdened with centuries of silence. Hashirama edged closer, eyes filled with worry.

Then, the black fox tilted its head. Violet eyes shimmered with ancient weight, scanning the world curiously, as though everything was both familiar and foreign.

A strange dread froze Hashirama in place.

Clack!

At the sound of Hashirama's step, the black fox's gaze locked onto him. It was like being stripped bare under those eyes. Then, in a voice not belonging to Madara—

"Asura?"

Hashirama froze. That voice—it wasn't Madara's.

"PFFFF—cough, cough, cough!"

On a distant peak, Gin choked on his iced tea, spraying it everywhere.

"Holy shit!!"

Wiping his mouth, his brain nearly crashed. I thought it was Madara blackening. Turns out, he called in the damn ancestor to play on his account!

"This is gonna make Hashirama crap bricks…"

"You! Whoever you are, get out of Madara's body!"

Hashirama's face hardened.

"…Not Asura, huh? But your annoying personality's the same."

The black fox knight flexed its body like an old man doing rehab.

"You—!"

Before Hashirama could finish, the knight flickered, vanishing. Reappearing in front of him, a fist gleamed with violet light and—

Thud!

"Urghhh—!"

The blow sank into his stomach. Even Hashirama bent double, stomach acid burning his throat.

Thump!

Kneeling, pale-faced, he looked up in shock.

"Who… are you?"

"Who I am doesn't matter. I just want to know what your relationship with him is. Seems… not bad."

While asking, the knight didn't press the attack.

Seizing the chance, Hashirama funneled life force into chakra. His body, drained from fighting Madara, screamed in protest, but he forced it.

"Oh? Even your sneaky tricks are the same as his."

The violet eyes glowed mockingly.

"Kaijūken (Monster Strength Fist)!"

Hashirama's fist surged with sage energy. It slammed forward—

Bang!

—but was caught in the knight's palm. Agony jolted up his arm.

"…This power… Father's strange jutsu."

The knight studied the markings on Hashirama's face. "I remember. He used this when fighting Mother…"

Hashirama stomped, a gust blowing the knight back, freeing him.

"If you won't leave Madara, I'll make you!"

"Then let's see what you've got, Asura's reincarnation."

The knight vanished again.

"Mokuton: Jukai Kōtan (Wood Style: Deep Forest Emergence)!"

Trees erupted into a vast forest.

"Asura's jutsu, huh…"

The knight's eyes softened briefly with memory—then hardened again. A violet blade formed in his hand, elegant and deadly.

"Nice. A personal weapon, too."

He charged. With one sweep, Hashirama's wooden dragon was bisected, collapsing into dust.

Hashirama drew his broadsword, steel clashing against the black blade. Sparks lit the battlefield.

"Not bad. Your swordplay is far sharper than that idiot king's."

After a fierce exchange, Hashirama's stamina faltered. His chest heaved.

"Running out already? In his memories, you were far from this short-lived."

The knight mocked him, pressing forward.

Meanwhile, at the crater—

"Eh? All I did was spice things up a little. How the hell did I awaken Indra?!"

Black Zetsu nearly fainted. His plan was just to nudge Madara into despair, force him to blacken, and fight Hashirama to death. But when he shoved guiding energy into the blank buckle, something else answered.

Indra Ōtsutsuki. First son of Hagoromo. Father of Ninjutsu. The one who nearly destroyed the Shinobi Sect a thousand years ago.

Indra's chakra fragment, sleeping within Madara, had awakened.

"Well… okay. Not part of the plan. But if he's fighting Hashirama, then my goal's still achieved."

With that flimsy excuse, Zetsu slipped away underground.

Back at the battlefield—Hashirama was once again smashed to the ground.

"Alright. Enough warm-up. Tell me—what's your relationship with this one?"

Sitting on a rock, sword in hand, the knight studied him.

"…Madara is my best friend. Closer than brothers."

"…"

Indra fell silent. According to the cycle, Asura's and his reincarnations were destined to clash. Yet here, the bond was the opposite.

Lowering his gaze, Indra muttered, "…Then why do I control his body? I should only be able to influence from the shadows…"

Inside the consciousness sea—

Chains bound Madara in place, his Mangekyō spinning furiously. But the black knight ignored him.

"Oi, little fox. You know anything?"

In the corner, Kurama whimpered. Its earlier arrogance was gone.

"…This… this is a tool made from the Sage's old jar… like Kohaku no Jōhei. It can store Bijū chakra. That's all I know…"

"Oh? So it absorbed my chakra too, huh? Interesting."

Indra smirked.

But Madara, bound and furious, glared. "Don't you dare hurt Hashirama! He's mine to defeat!"

"Oh? So you're not friends after all?"

Madara grit his teeth. "He's my eternal rival. No one else touches him!"

Indra's gaze deepened. "Strange. He said you were closer than brothers."

Madara's pupils shrank.

"He… said that?"

But Indra was already turning away.

Outside, Hashirama pressed his palm against Indra's chest.

"Kōan Nyūten Suishu!"

Indra blinked. "A suppression technique? Nice… but useless against me."

With a boom, Hashirama was blown back, his surefire jutsu shattered.

"Mokuton: Mokujin no Jutsu (Wood Style: Wood Human Technique)!"

Hashirama summoned his wooden giant. Indra only sneered.

"You think size will save you? Even Asura's tricks are childish."

Gripping his violet blade, his black fox armor glowing, Indra prepared to crush the giant.

"…This body should be able to handle it."

(End of Chapter)

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