The next day.
The long-awaited moment within the Uchiha compound had finally arrived.
Although the mission Madara Uchiha had accepted was supposed to be confidential, it was simply too sensational to stay secret.
Practically from the moment Madara decided to take on that mission, the entire Uchiha Guard knew about it—thanks to the loud, shocked outburst of the mission clerk who had been told it was "classified."
Had Madara not considered that the mission would take place within the Senju clan's territory, he truly might have activated his Mangekyō Sharingan right then and there to cast a genjutsu over everyone present.
If someone were to ask Madara Uchiha right now: "Lord Madara, how do you feel at this moment?"
Standing backstage, he would probably just twitch at the corner of his eye and answer:
—Regret. Deep, utter regret.
"So many people showed up to watch. Madara, I didn't expect you to be this popular," Hashirama Senju whispered from behind the curtain that divided the front and back of the stage, peeking at the surging crowd and reporting back to Madara and Izuna Uchiha.
Those words instantly rubbed Madara the wrong way.
"What's that supposed to mean? I am, after all, the head of the Uchiha clan. Of course my clansmen would want to see me."
Hashirama turned to glance at him curiously and then dealt a perfect strike: "If you're so popular, then why are you still single?"
That hit home. Izuna, standing behind Madara, gave Hashirama a thumbs-up—but his expression toward him was one of pity.
"...Truly worthy of being you, Hashirama. Even you dare say something like that."
Before Hashirama could even realize what he'd just said—and before Madara, who was now visibly seething, could decide to "teach his dance partner a lesson"—the host on stage began to speak.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for setting aside your work today to attend this grand event! I'm sure everyone here has been looking forward to it just as much as I have..."
"Oh, so it's true—Madara Uchiha really is going to dance!" — This came from an information officer stationed in the Uchiha compound, part reporter, part spy, tasked with gathering all local news.
"So this is the famed unity of the Uchiha? Truly deserving of their title as the 'strongest' clan in the shinobi world." — wrote another observer hidden among the crowd, a noble agent sent to evaluate the military strength of each ninja clan.
Of course, aside from these few exceptions, the majority of the audience was chanting—
"Lord Madara is the greatest! Lord Madara is the best!"
...
Though the temporary stage was far from luxurious, the sheer size of the crowd had exceeded a thousand people. That meant nearly every permanent resident of the Uchiha compound—except those currently on duty—had gathered here.
Once the host sensed that the feverish excitement of the crowd had settled a little, he raised an amplifying device and spoke again, his tone teasingly mysterious:
"I believe everyone already knows who will be performing today—but, don't you all wonder who commissioned this event in the first place?"
The moment that question was asked, silence fell over the crowd.
After all, when the Uchiha and the common folk had first heard the news, their immediate reaction had been disbelief. Once it was confirmed, their minds became consumed entirely by excitement for Madara, leaving no room for deeper thought.
This was an age of hero worship—and the strong were natural idols.
But in modern terms, one could say this "dance event" was fully sponsored by Satsuki, and the two million ryō she paid was no small sum in this era.
The host, though not particularly strong, was sharp enough to understand the importance of flattering his patron. So, he had specially arranged a moment for Satsuki to appear.
"Well then~ I won't keep you guessing any longer~ Today, we're honored to have our mysterious benefactor here in person!"
As he turned toward the side of the stage, he bowed respectfully and announced:
"—Please welcome Miss Satsuki!"
Following his gesture, everyone's gaze shifted toward the edge of the stage.
There, a carriage had already stopped beside it—and from within, a slender arm slowly reached out to push open the carriage door.
Then, under everyone's gaze, the sky seemed to dim in an instant.
It was as though, within the depths of their subconscious, all present had just witnessed something—but that memory vanished the very next second, leaving only an empty void.
As light and darkness switched abruptly, the world once again returned to brightness.
And then—they saw her.
All at once, everyone instinctively held their breath.
The entire venue fell silent, every pair of eyes fixed blankly upon the black-haired woman who stepped gracefully down from the carriage.
"Am I... dreaming? Why do I feel like I'm looking at... at..."
One man among the audience murmured unconsciously. His poor vocabulary failed to form any elegant words, but his eyes—wide to their limits—did not blink as they followed the woman's every step.
Soon, the same reaction spread throughout the entire crowd. It wasn't only the men—even the women present found themselves unable to look away.
This attraction that transcended mortal imagination was like a powerful genjutsu; everyone who laid eyes upon the woman on stage fell into a dazed trance.
Yet the woman who seemed to emerge from a dream walked forward unaffected by their stares.
Each light step of hers seemed less to touch the earth than to tread upon the hearts of those present.
Even the strands of her black hair, lifted by the gentle breeze, seemed to strum invisible strings within every onlooker's chest before drifting away softly.
Cough— cough—
The host's deliberate cough finally broke the spellbinding atmosphere.
Immediately, displeased glares from the audience turned toward him.
Fortunately, the host was quick-witted. Having met Satsuki before, the impact of her presence was slightly weaker for him—and he still remembered what he was supposed to do.
He promptly shifted the topic to her: "Miss Satsuki, just as we all expected, your mere appearance has stirred the entire crowd! If you were to host such a dance yourself one day, I believe it would cause an even greater sensation."
"If that day ever becomes necessary..." Satsuki replied calmly, "But today's stage belongs to the Uchiha."
"Ah~ what a response to look forward to indeed. I do hope I'll live to see that day."
Then, the host smoothly changed the subject again. "Still, even if we've yet to witness Miss Satsuki's own dance, being able to see the performance of the strongest clan of the Warring States—the head of the Uchiha himself—is thrilling enough."
"Before we begin, may I ask you one question, Miss Satsuki: why did you decide to commission Lord Madara to dance?"
At those words, even Madara Uchiha backstage abandoned the thought of scolding Hashirama. Like his dance partner, he pressed against the curtain and began eavesdropping.
He too had never truly understood why Satsuki had made such a strange request.
However, when Satsuki's golden eyes swept over the audience, her answer was simple—yet deeply thought-provoking.
"The reason is quite simple," she said softly. "I merely believe... that this era needs to come to an end."
"This era needs to end?"
What did that mean?
Not just the host—everyone present shared the same curiosity about why Satsuki would say such a thing.
Standing upon the high platform, Satsuki merely smiled without further explanation.
"This stage isn't my podium for speeches. Saying too much here would be rather impolite. I think it's best to give the spotlight back to today's main performer."
Only then did the host snap back to his senses, quickly saying, "Understood! Then, please take your seat, Miss Satsuki."
He then raised his hand high before waving outward.
Several Uchiha ninja, already prepared, exchanged quick nods and formed hand seals in perfect unison.
"Fire Release: Great Dragon Fire Technique!" ×4
Boom~
Boom~
Boom~
Boom~
As four massive dragons of fire roared skyward, countless steel wires—specially treated by the Uchiha—were already strung above the stage.
Within the blazing vortex, the wires began to heat and twist the air itself. Soon, they glowed red-hot and emerged visibly in midair.
The glowing threads interwove and twisted together, finally forming a gigantic, burning Uchiha fan emblem suspended in the sky.
The second group of Uchiha on standby sprang into action the moment they saw this spectacle.
Each drew a scroll from their ninja tool pouches, bit their fingers, and began forming seals.
"Summoning Technique!"
Puff—
Four majestic, large eagles materialized in bursts of smoke, spreading their enormous wings and soaring high into the sky, each letting out a long, resounding cry.
The crowd's attention immediately shifted to the four eagles. In this era, to have such well-trained, coordinated beasts as partners was an extraordinary asset for any shinobi clan.
The audience whispered among themselves, unsure why summoning ninja eagles was necessary for such an event.
In their minds, the purpose of such creatures was limited to reconnaissance or assisting in combat.
Even in a gathering of this scale, security was important—but surely not to the extent of summoning four giant beasts.
Yet what followed left everyone utterly astonished.
The four eagles circled gracefully around the massive Uchiha fan emblem. From their talons hung four enormous vertical banners.
Each banner displayed a record of the Uchiha clan's history and major accomplishments—like four colossal scrolls of propaganda unfurled before the world.
Beneath these were printed the crests of smaller ninja clans that had joined the Uchiha's alliance.
Though the designs were small, they were clear enough for all in attendance to see.
It had to be said—this kind of public display was both innovative and dangerous for its time.
Because it shattered one of the long-standing unspoken rules among the clans: that strangers should not reveal their surnames or affiliations.
The reason was simple—survival.
In an age of ceaseless war, before any overwhelming power had solidified its dominance, most clans were evenly matched and uncertain in their allegiances.
In such times, caution and quiet growth were the wisest paths.
And that was the choice most people made.
However, once the tides of war grew clearer, factions confident in their strength would begin seeking greater influence.
And one of the most direct methods of gaining influence was—propaganda.
The Uchiha clan had never been one for subtlety.
For years, their power had been immense, their combat style and bloodline abilities far too distinctive to conceal. Their identity on the battlefield was unmistakable.
Over time, the name "Uchiha" resounded throughout the entire shinobi world. Naturally, this brought both advantages and disadvantages.
The downside: they had made far too many enemies and were eventually besieged at the Valley of Clouds and Lightning.
The upside: many smaller clans, drawn by their power and fame, sought to ally with them, and clients preferred to commission missions from Uchiha shinobi.
Now, as many in the audience recognized their own clan crests displayed alongside the great Uchiha emblem, they felt a complex mix of unease and belonging.
After all—even if their identities were now exposed, this public recognition by the Uchiha clan was an official declaration of alliance.
From a standpoint of safety, this was far more secure than the previous, half-concealed arrangements.
After all, if any of these smaller clans were attacked and the Uchiha chose to stand by and do nothing, it would undoubtedly tarnish their reputation.
From this act alone, it was clear that whoever planned this event already had ambitions to reshape the balance of power in the shinobi world.
"It seems that, no matter the era, there are always clever people around," Satsuki mused from her seat. Having watched from the sidelines all this time, she found this strategy strikingly familiar.
Still, it had nothing to do with her. She simply observed in silence.
Once that segment concluded, the long-awaited main character finally appeared.
Amid thunderous cheers, the leader of the Uchiha clan—Madara Uchiha—slowly stepped onto the stage.
Every step he took was measured and calm, his hands hanging naturally at his sides as he relaxed his body.
As the head of the Uchiha clan, Madara's name was already famous throughout the shinobi world. Even those who had never seen him in person would at least recognize his face from the top ranks of various bounty posters and mission lists issued by the villages.
Today, however, he wore neither his signature red armor nor his battle attire. Instead, he was dressed in a sleek black fitted shirt, long black trousers, white socks, and a pair of leather shoes.
It was clear that his outfit had been specially prepared for dancing.
Behind him stood two masked dancers—Izuna Uchiha and Hashirama Senju—each wearing animal-themed masks, taking their positions in a triangular formation behind him.
The moment the Uchiha leader appeared, the entire audience erupted.
Even the host's attempts to shout an introduction were futile—his voice was completely drowned out by the deafening waves of cheers.
"Lord Madara~ so handsome!"
"Lord Madara~ the strongest!"
"Lord Madara~ so manly!"
...
Amidst the rising tide of cheers, Madara clasped his hands before his chest. His sharp gaze swept from side to side, and though he made no effort to project his aura, an overwhelming sense of power and majesty radiated naturally from him.
Then, raising one hand high above his head, he held the pose.
Gradually, the noise in the hall subsided. The entire audience turned their full attention toward the man standing on stage.
A snap of his fingers followed.
Instantly, the sound of a piano prelude rang out across the venue.
The atmosphere exploded.
And if anyone from Satsuki's own world and era had been present, they would have recognized the melody immediately.
—"In the End."
This music, so utterly alien to this world's time, struck every listener like a bolt of inspiration.
As the prelude built, the energy of the three figures on stage ignited in an instant, reaching its peak.