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

Chapter 334: The White Fox Descends, Reversal of the Heavens’ Mandated Fate

Protecting the environment is everyone's duty!

Gin quickly cleaned up his campsite trash. Seeing no one around to witness his good deed, he sighed with regret and dumped everything into the Shadow Realm instead. Dusting his hands, he looked toward the battlefield where Indra raised his blade.

Hashirama was on death's door. If Gin didn't act, Lady Mito might soon become a widow.

…Which, he thought for a split second, might not be such a bad thing.

No! Unworthy thought! Hashirama was like a brother to him—how could he wish such a thing?

Gin, you scoundrel!

Cutting off his wayward musings, Gin raised his hand to the void. The only disguise he could use right now was Decade.

"Wangliang, gattai!"

His dead-fish eyes widened with resolve, knightly spirit burning bright. A portal of shadows opened before him—yet instead of his dark-skinned goddess partner, garbage flew back out. Chicken bones and lemon pulp splattered across his face.

"Ahhh! My eyes!"

Lemon juice stung like fire. Gin rolled on the ground, howling in agony.

"Hmph! Throw trash randomly and you still want to combine with me? Dream on."

Kaguya stood on the other side of the portal, hands on her hips, beautiful face cold. Beside her were the puppets Left and Right, their stance showing they were the ones who had pitched the garbage with perfect aim.

"Don't bother me for a while. I've… come into my time."

Her eyes flickered strangely, voice curt. With a wave, she closed the Shadow Realm.

She had clearly sensed Hagoromo spying.

Gin squinted through the pain, staring at where the portal vanished. "Come into her time? …Does that mean her relatives are visiting? Wait, does that mean constructs can get periods? …Then doesn't that mean they can have kids?!"

Ridiculous thoughts flooded his head. But no matter—first, he had to save Hashirama.

"Eh? Why's he frozen?"

Gin paused. Indra, who moments ago had been untouchable, suddenly stood stiff, black-blue armor trembling, long sword slipping from his hand.

Inside the consciousness sea—

"Another petty trick?"

Indra, lofty as ever, looked down at Madara's new belt. He dismissed it as meaningless.

"Kurama, stop playing dead."

But Madara didn't answer him. Instead, he turned toward Kurama, who lay feigning unconsciousness.

"Ha?"

Kurama flinched. My acting isn't that bad, is it? Can't a fox catch a break?

This was Indra! Hagoromo's cruel eldest son, who once suggested castrating the Bijū to make them docile.

If cutting calmed tempers, then Indra should've been the first to be cut!

"Don't forget who sealed you. Help me—or suffer later!"

Madara's face was grim. He had to get out. Hashirama's fate was unknown, and he wouldn't believe Indra's words without proof.

"…Tch."

Kurama sighed, padding over to stand behind Madara. Indra watched without interfering, curious how this reincarnation could fight without his chakra.

"We can't win. Better to forfeit and reset."

Kurama muttered, but Madara's resolve only burned brighter. Slowly, he drew the silver Beast Card from his Driver—the one that had sealed Kurama.

Indra sneered. Even if all nine Bijū were unleashed, they couldn't shake him.

"Don't resist. I'm only correcting your fate. When next you awaken, you'll forget everything and follow destiny's path again."

His cold voice echoed. This reincarnation was strong, yes, but flawed in ideology. Next time, fate would correct the mistake.

"I will never forget."

Madara lifted his head, recalling all the moments with Hashirama—meeting by the river, skimming stones, their parting and inevitable clash. Every memory was priceless.

He raised the Beast Card high. Behind him, Kurama stiffened. A strange chakra—familiar, yet not its own—was emanating from the card.

Wait… that chakra…?

Kurama's great eyes widened. Within the glow, it swore it saw another version of itself.

"Everything I share with Hashirama!"

Madara's voice roared as the card exploded in white light. Kurama's body began dissolving—but not painfully. This time, it felt warm, like returning home. It did not resist, merging into the card.

"This is…"

Madara stared as the light condensed into a heavy buckle in his hands. Red and white intertwined across its surface.

Indra's brow furrowed. From that buckle, he felt something dangerous. And worse—something he hated most of all.

Madara held it, peace filling his heart, as if Hashirama stood at his side.

[Mark IX]

Knowledge of its use surged into his mind. He split the buckle in two.

"Clack!"

With narrowed eyes, he slammed both halves into the Driver.

[Set Ignition]

The Driver flared to life, music shaking his core. Madara's blood ignited.

"Henshin!"

[Revolve On]

The red-white fox perched atop the Driver glowed. Madara pulled its handle—

[Dynamite Boost] ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ ɴo(v)elFɪre.ɴet

A blazing red-white Kurama erupted from the void, circling him once before diving into his body. Armor encased him, tails sprouted, and the White Fox Knight was born.

[Geats IX]

"Shhhhkkk!"

Nine tails unfurled behind him, whipping the ground into a storm.

"Ready Fight!"

Madara looked at his red-white hands in awe. This power was beyond anything he'd known. If he'd had this against Hashirama before, victory would've been his.

"Tch."

Indra's brows knitted. The armor looked too much like his own, only with swapped colors.

"A counterfeit. Copying me won't make you me."

Madara drew a red-white blade, voice unwavering.

"I copy no one. I am… Uchiha Madara!"

With a flash, he closed the gap. His blade clashed with Indra's, while his off-hand short crossbow fired point-blank into Indra's gut.

"Ghhhk—!"

Pain flared as smoke rose from Indra's abdomen. He snarled, kicking Madara back.

"To be injured by my own reincarnation… unforgivable. I'll kill you."

Tails lashing, he blurred like black lightning.

Madara answered in white lightning.

"BOOOOM!"

Their clash rocked the sea of consciousness.

Indra seethed—Madara was holding his ground. Impossible for just one reincarnation plus Kurama. Only his own exhaustion across reincarnations could explain it.

Meanwhile, Kurama cackled in Madara's mind.

"Nice! Hit him where it hurts! I've got your back, human!"

"Shut up!"

Madara strained. Every strike demanded everything he had. Only the armor kept him alive against Indra's Yin chakra.

Another exchange—Madara faltered, struck down, kneeling, armor heavy.

"You've done well. Only two in this world have ever pushed me this far."

Indra's eyes shifted into a twisted pattern, Yin chakra devouring the sea.

Madara's eyes burned, Mangekyō spinning wildly, his own Yin chakra surging to contest Indra's control.

A battle of wills began.

Indra swiftly seized ground, his mastery unrivaled. But he couldn't help admiring Madara's eyes—sharper, more potent than any reincarnation before.

"Such eyes… wasted on the wrong side."

"Don't underestimate me!"

Madara unleashed everything, but his chakra burned away too fast. He was losing.

"I'll help!"

Kurama's voice boomed. Nine tails flared, flooding Madara with Yin chakra. His body revived, eyes blazing, and he stood once more.

"You… why are you still rising?!"

Indra's disbelief turned to anger.

Madara's chest heaved. "As long as Hashirama stands, I will never fall!"

Indra's lips curled bitterly. "…That man again. What did you two go through?"

His words soured—but then his body convulsed. Looking down, he saw smoke rising from the buckle at his waist.

"You dishonorable brat—you shot me in the back?!"

Madara leveled his weapon, face serious. "Eat shit, ancestor."

"Unforgivable!"

Indra hurled himself forward, rage blinding him.

Madara roared back, fueled by Kurama's endless chakra. Their clash shook the world, until finally—

"Clang!"

The red-white blade smashed through. Indra was thrown back, the black sea receding.

"Victory is mine!"

Madara seized control of his body, leaving Indra gasping on the ground.

—In reality—

Hashirama, who had tried to pull the buckle off, froze as the black fox knight's body flickered. Black-blue armor began turning white and red, one eye glowing gold.

"Hashirama!"

"Madara?"

Hashirama jolted, relief flooding him.

Madara smiled under his mask. "I won. I'm back."

But then—

"You haven't won yet."

A familiar cold voice slithered out from the other half of his mask. Purple chakra flared, and a black fist slammed Hashirama away, blood spraying.

"Hashirama!"

Madara's armor warped—white and red on one side, black and blue on the other. His eyes flickered between gold and violet, battling for dominance.

"You've already lost," Indra's voice intoned. "And here's your lesson—never relax, even for a moment. The enemy behind you waits for just one opening."

From the shadows, Zetsu grinned. Not bad, eldest nephew. Not bad at all.

(End of Chapter)

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