Chapter 302 – The Sage of Six Paths Was Too Extreme! "Finally Found You!"
Black Zetsu was utterly bewildered.
And after the confusion came disbelief.
Because, in his eyes, everything that had happened in the shinobi world—every cycle of hatred and war—
had been his doing.
The grudge between Indra and Ashura.
The blood-soaked feud between the Uchiha and the Senju.
Every war, every betrayal, every tragedy.
It was all him.
He was the architect.
The hidden hand.
The one pulling every thread to free his mother.
Sure, he despised his "two idiot brothers."
They were, after all, the bastards who had sealed Kaguya away in the first place.
But this world's current chaos?
That was his masterpiece!
"So how the hell," he muttered, shaking with disbelief,
"did it suddenly become their doing?"
"Have you lost your mind?"
Madara frowned deeply, his expression sharp and incredulous.
He didn't know whether Tobirama Senju was delusional or just playing games.
What stunned him more, though, was that Hashirama wasn't denying it.
Hashirama stood there—calm, silent—his expression unreadable.
As if he actually agreed with his "shameless little brother."
That unsettled Madara more than anything.
Could there really be something deeper here… something even he didn't know?
Across the battlefield, Naruto, Sasuke, and Minato all exchanged confused glances.
None of them had ever heard anything like this.
At most, they'd heard Gen once say something about the Sage of Six Paths favoring Indra's bloodline—
but this? This was new.
Their eyes turned toward Tobirama, filled with disbelief.
"Hmph."
Tobirama folded his arms, a cruel smile tugging at his lips.
"That's why I said you're an irredeemable fool, Madara."
"You never once understood the Sage's true intentions."
His voice dripped with contempt, each word a deliberate strike.
He'd always hated Madara—resented him.
And now, with a chance to verbally eviscerate him, Tobirama wasn't about to hold back.
Besides, it also gave him an opportunity to bury Gen's "Sage favored Indra" theory.
There was no way he'd let that stand.
"Unbelievable," Tobirama continued, pacing slightly.
"Even after all this, after everything that's happened, you still haven't realized what the Sage was doing?"
"Hmph. Then explain," Madara growled.
"What are you getting at?"
Tobirama's smile widened.
"Tell me, Madara—if the Sage of Six Paths truly wished to end the wars that plagued this world…
do you think he couldn't have done it?"
Madara's eyes narrowed.
"You mean stopping the conflict between Indra and Ashura?"
"Exactly." Tobirama's gaze sharpened.
"I don't know what started their feud, but with the Sage's power? Ending it wouldn't have been difficult."
"Would it?"
Madara fell silent.
He knew the answer.
No—it wouldn't have been hard at all.
This was the man who, alongside his brother, had defeated an Ōtsutsuki.
He'd seen their power firsthand—terrifying, absolute.
Anyone strong enough to destroy a godlike being should have been able to stop anything.
So then… why didn't he?
"Tch…" Madara inhaled sharply, unease creeping in.
Even Black Zetsu, lurking nearby, froze.
He had always believed that his "older brother" hadn't intervened out of guilt—
remorse for the divisions born from the founding of Ninshū.
After all, he had done his part to fan those flames.
But now that he thought about it—if Hagoromo had really wanted to stop the cycle—
there was no reason he couldn't have.
"Then why?" Black Zetsu murmured, voice trembling.
"Why didn't he stop it? Could there have been something else… something we missed?"
A chill crept down his spine.
He'd spent a thousand years weaving this plan, never once doubting its foundation.
But now—
for the first time—
he felt uncertainty.
Had he misunderstood everything from the very start?
"So what you're saying," Madara spoke slowly, "is that this endless cycle of war…
was what the Sage wanted?"
His tone was sharp, almost mocking—but there was hesitation beneath it.
"Hashirama," he demanded,
"you don't actually believe this nonsense, do you?"
Hashirama sighed.
His expression was heavy, conflicted.
"Madara… it's not that I want to believe it."
"But after everything we've seen… I can't deny the possibility."
The wind howled across the battlefield.
No one spoke for a long while.
Even Madara—prideful, unyielding—found himself frowning in doubt.
Black Zetsu's face twisted, caught between anger and disbelief.
For the first time, both the puppet and the puppeteer hesitated.
Had everything they believed in—everything they'd built—
been nothing more than a piece in the Sage's grand design?
Hashirama took one look at his younger brother's eager expression and immediately decided to step in before Tobirama said something reckless.
"It's true," Hashirama said firmly. "Everything he did… was for the sake of this world's survival."
Madara's eyes widened.
"For the world? By letting his own brothers destroy each other? By allowing a thousand years of endless war?"
Hashirama nodded solemnly.
"Yes. As insane as it sounds—that's exactly it. Tell me, Madara… who do you think is the true enemy of this world?"
"The true enemy…"
Madara frowned, then realization flickered across his face.
"Ōtsutsuki Genshiki?"
"Not just him," Hashirama replied gravely. "Think about how many Ōtsutsuki have already come to our world. He's merely the most terrifying among them."
Madara's eyes darkened.
"That so-called 'Path to Godhood'... it's monstrous. Cruel beyond words. Are you saying—"
"Yes," Hashirama interrupted, his tone heavy. "The Sage of Six Paths has been shaping this thousand-year conflict… for this very moment."
He drew a deep breath, his expression resolute.
"Those centuries of war weren't just chaos. They were a crucible—meant to refine humanity. To sharpen our use of chakra, to perfect our skills in battle, and most of all—"
"To forge our will."
Madara froze. Slowly, his fist tightened as comprehension dawned.
"Ordinary people look at shinobi and never dare to challenge them—the gap is too vast. And to the Ōtsutsuki… we're no different."
"But…"
"A thousand years of bloodshed," Hashirama said softly, "taught us not to fear gods."
His words hung in the air, quiet but heavy with conviction.
"When our homes are threatened, when the world itself trembles," he continued, "that blood-forged resolve becomes unbreakable. Our will hardens. Our hearts burn brighter. We fight harder."
Madara's voice lowered.
"Yes… without the courage to face an enemy, without the will to fight…"
He exhaled slowly, a rare moment of sincerity crossing his face.
"This world would have already perished."
The battlefield fell silent.
Even Tobirama, scowling in frustration that his chance to insult Madara had been stolen, held his tongue.
Naruto, Sasuke, and Minato stood frozen, the weight of the revelation pressing down on them.
The Sage of Six Paths—
the man they'd grown up hearing about as a saint who pitied humanity, who spread chakra to guide the world—
—had done this?
"So he still pitied humanity," Minato murmured, rubbing his temples, "but his methods… were beyond mercy."
In that moment, the image of the Sage changed completely.
No longer a benevolent god—
but a cold strategist who let generations of war and death pile up to forge one unbreakable world.
A peace built on corpses.
An enlightenment forged in fire.
"That's… horrifying," Naruto whispered.
"This… this is the real Sage of Six Paths?"
Sasuke didn't answer. He just stared blankly into space.
Meanwhile, Black Zetsu was on the verge of breaking down.
If all of this was true—then what the hell had he been doing all these centuries?
"Don't tell me…" he muttered, trembling,
"I've been helping him?!"
He thought back—centuries of manipulating Indra and Ashura's descendants, fueling hatred, perpetuating wars.
All of it, he'd believed, was to save his mother.
But now—
Now it sounded like everything he'd done had played perfectly into his "dear brother's" plan.
"No…" Zetsu hissed, his voice rising.
"He knew I existed all along. He used me! Used me to plunge this world into chaos—so he could achieve his goal!"
His body trembled with fury, his voice barely human.
"Even Infinite Tsukuyomi… was that part of his plan too?"
A terrifying thought took shape in his mind—
a thought so sharp it nearly stopped him cold.
"Did he plan to use Mother… against the Ōtsutsuki?"
The realization hit like ice water.
It was mad.
It was cruel.
It was exactly what Hagoromo would have done.
Because even after all the suffering, all the wars—
humanity still couldn't match the power of the Ōtsutsuki.
And so, if he couldn't make humanity strong enough—
he would turn Kaguya herself into a weapon.
"So that's it…" Zetsu whispered, his voice breaking.
"You never wanted Mother to live. You only wanted her power!"
His rage surged, hot and wild.
"You damned monster!"
"I won't let you have her!"
"I'll protect my mother—no matter what!"
As Zetsu's silent fury echoed in the void, Madara's voice rose again, quiet but steady.
"If this is all true…"
He paused, his Sharingan dimming with thought.
"Then the Sage of Six Paths truly was… too extreme."
He exhaled.
It was the only word that fit.
Extreme—
and terrifyingly logical.
In the face of extinction, one man had gambled the entire world on blood, loss, and evolution.
Individual lives meant nothing.
Only the survival of the shinobi world mattered.
By that reasoning, a thousand years of war were inevitable.
Even the founding of the Hidden Villages—his and Hashirama's dream—
was part of that same inevitable design.
"So this was all training," Madara murmured.
"Every war. Every death. All to harden humanity for the future."
But beneath his calm words burned quiet anger.
Because the peace he'd sought—the peace he'd killed for—
was nothing but another cog in the Sage's machine.
Then, something flickered behind his eyes.
"No… there's still a way."
His voice dropped to a cold whisper.
"If we destroy the Ōtsutsuki… if Infinite Tsukuyomi succeeds…"
He looked up at the five before him—Hashirama, Tobirama, Minato, Naruto, and Sasuke—
and his gaze changed.
Something new.
Something dangerous.
"If this is what the Sage wanted," he said quietly,
"then I'll make sure he gets it."
"But first—"
Madara's smirk returned, wicked and sharp.
"I need to see if you're worthy."
And with that, his colossal Susano'o roared to life—swinging its blades toward the gathered Kage.
"Knew it," Tobirama muttered darkly.
"He's insane."
"Yeah," Hashirama sighed, cracking his knuckles.
"But we've both been waiting for this fight a long time."
Far above them, beyond the smoke and lightning of the battlefield—
Gen stood motionless in the clouds, eyes closed, his senses reaching far beyond the mortal realm.
Then, slowly, his eyes opened.
"Impressive," he whispered.
"Before, I couldn't have traced it—but now…"
His eyes gleamed with radiant light, cutting through space itself.
In his vision, reality unfolded—
space bending into translucent corridors,
each filled with glowing nodes that twisted through existence like veins of living chakra.
At the farthest edge of perception lay a vast, hidden pocket of darkness.
A space sealed away from all others.
And within that void—
a colossal beast lay coiled in silence, its monstrous form chained to the ground,
its Rinnegan—gazing blindly into the dark.
Gen's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.
"Finally," he said softly.
"I've found you—Ōtsutsuki Isshiki's Ten-Tails."