Chapter 262: The Outer Statue
"Night Guy"
Might Guy's roar thundered across the battlefield.
A giant dragon wrapped in blood-red flames tore through the sky. Like a burning meteor, it descended under the hopeful gaze of the entire Ninja Alliance, crashing toward Uchiha Madara with unmatched force.
"Go!"
"Konoha's pride!"
"Guy!!"
Whether they were Konoha ninjas who knew Might Guy by name or shinobi from other villages unfamiliar with him, all eyes burned with excitement and awe. In that moment, everyone recognized the taijutsu master who lit the sky with his burning spirit.
From beginning to end, the battlefield had been bleak, hope buried beneath Nagato's overwhelming power and the terrifying might of Shinra Tensei. But the arrival of Hashirama Senju, and now the dazzling radiance of Might Guy's sacrifice, rekindled a spark of victory in their hearts.
Shouts echoed across the field, rallying morale so fiercely that even the White Zetsu army scattered like dry leaves before a storm.
"This… this is the brightest thing I've ever seen!"
Might Guy felt the hope and energy in every gaze directed at him. His already surging aura exploded once more.
As long as you don't stray from your path and keep moving forward… one day, your protection will be rewarded.
These words echoed in his mind. He grinned unconsciously, his white teeth flashing a bright, sunny smile.
Dad… I did it.
But there was still a hint of regret in his heart.
It's a shame that Lee couldn't witness this with his own eyes. With my experience, he would surely master the Eight Gates better than I ever could…
Though these thoughts seemed long, they occurred in the span of a breath.
As Might Guy charged toward Uchiha Madara at an unimaginable speed, he suddenly—stopped.
Boom!
A deafening shockwave rocked the earth.
And at that moment, the hearts of all who watched trembled.
"H-how… could this be?!"
Guy stared in disbelief. The sky ahead of him was empty—Madara still some distance away—yet he had abruptly slowed down midair, as if colliding with an unseen wall.
It felt exactly like his earlier strike—when Evening Elephant had hit something invisible before reaching Madara.
From the painful impact in his leg and the jarring sensation in his bones, he knew with certainty: he had struck something real.
Crack—
Crrrrk—
A sound like cracking eggshells filled his ears. Guy's already battered face—skin flayed from the toll of the Eight Gates—twisted even more grimly.
If something had blocked his final, most powerful kick… then that resistance had to be fatal.
Though he couldn't see it, Might Guy had still managed to shatter the invisible barrier with his overwhelming power.
But the damage had already been done.
The overwhelming aura surrounding him faded instantly, like a fire doused by ice water. The blood-red chakra flowing from his heart began to dim, his vision slowly blurring.
Not far away, he could vaguely see Uchiha Madara's figure. He wanted to reach out, to strike one more time.
But his arms wouldn't lift.
He could only watch, powerless, as Madara slowly flew toward the First Hokage.
Sorry…
Without the strength to speak, Might Guy lost consciousness.
Like a candle burned to its end, he drifted down from the sky.
Torn clothing fluttered around him. Festering skin peeled away, and the blood-red chakra shell surrounding him dissolved.
His life force was fading rapidly.
Until finally, with a dull thud, he crashed to the ground.
---
"Guy-sensei!"
Far away in Konoha, Rock Lee—who had just become a Genin and hadn't been chosen to join the battlefield—suddenly jolted awake.
A chill gripped his heart.
He ran to the window, staring in the direction that made his soul tremble, a surge of sorrow rising within him.
---
Across the vast battlefield in the Land of Water, the Ninja Alliance froze.
Their once blazing morale extinguished in a heartbeat. All eyes shifted to the charred corpse in the distance… then up toward the slowly descending Uchiha Madara.
"What a magnificent kick. If I'd taken that head-on, I'd be dead."
Madara had already reached the immobilized Senju Hashirama, standing coldly before his former rival.
"How pathetic. Once a man who could stand as my equal... now left behind by his own mortality?"
"This is no longer our era."
Hashirama smiled bitterly. Looking at the man he once called a friend, he tried to reason with him one last time.
"Human energy is limited. Leave your ideals and dreams to the future generations. There are things we simply cannot force…"
But deep down, Hashirama knew it was useless. If he could have swayed Madara with words, their paths would never have diverged.
"Hmph. Still the same naïve fool."
Madara glanced at the shinobi below—staring up at him with terror in their eyes.
"You expect me to trust them? I've never liked having people stand behind me."
With that, he suddenly raised his hand and gripped Hashirama's throat.
In an instant, a surge of pure Sage Chakra flowed into Madara through his palm.
The face on his chest began to twist and morph.
"You…"
Hashirama, already pierced by multiple black receivers that blocked his chakra and paralyzed his movements, felt the life drain from his Impure World Reincarnation body.
Though normally endowed with near-infinite chakra, the black rods embedded in him not only restricted his movements but also suppressed his regeneration.
If this continued, Madara would siphon away everything—and he would return to the underworld, powerless.
Below, the Allied Forces desperately tried to rush to Hashirama's aid.
But invisible enemies—Limbo clones—blocked their way.
They never even got close.
"So this is Sage Mode? Doesn't feel too special."
Madara closed his eyes, ignoring the thousands of shinobi below.
His hands carefully explored the new energy—Sage Chakra—intertwined with natural energy.
At first, he appeared casual.
But gradually, his expression shifted—relaxed to focused, focused to awestruck.
Until finally, his eyes opened wide.
"So… this is natural energy!"
Possessing the Rinnegan, Uchiha Madara's perception far exceeded that of ordinary shinobi.
The moment he came into contact with Sage Chakra, he immediately sensed the vast power of the natural world. It was everywhere—boundless and overwhelming.
Under the pressure of such immense natural energy, a rare unease surfaced within him.
He felt... insignificant, like a speck of dust in a vast ocean.
But then, Madara's tightly shut eyes snapped open. His gaze shifted sharply toward the direction of the Jinchūriki.
From far away, he sensed chakra waves so dense they were nearly tangible—surging toward him with terrifying force. Compared to his momentary sense of smallness, these Tailed Beasts burned like furnaces in the sea of natural energy.
Their presence could not be ignored.
"Now… I might finally cause trouble for that guy."
Slowly withdrawing his hand from Hashirama's body, Madara chose not to drain all of his chakra.
"I want you to stay and watch this battle."
His voice was cold, void of the excitement he once held upon seeing his old friend again.
This Hashirama… was not the same as before.
Just an empty shell—a shadow of his former self, resurrected to appear on the final stage, yet unworthy of reaching its end. A puppet who still clung to the hope of future generations.
But to Madara, the new generation had already failed.
Except for Ryosuke—this era's strongest—and the red beast who had just burned his life in combat, none had earned his acknowledgment.
"Battle? What are you planning?"
Weakened and barely able to move under the suppressing force of the black rods, Hashirama's voice was hoarse and exhausted.
"You've lost your edge. You're no longer worthy of being my rival, Hashirama."
Madara didn't bother looking at him again. Instead, his eyes peered into the distance.
"Your beloved younger generation hasn't told you, have they? The strongest shinobi of this era… and the clan backing him... didn't even participate in this war."
He was waiting—for the Jinchūriki to approach him of their own will.
"The strongest? What clan?"
Hashirama frowned, confused.
But then, scanning the battlefield below, realization dawned.
With their unique bloodline abilities, that clan should have been the sharpest eyes in the war… and yet, not a single member was present.
"That's right."
Madara chuckled darkly.
"The strongest of this era isn't from the Senju. Nor the Uchiha. It's from the clan I never even bothered to consider—the Hyūga."
"Unbelievable, right? Those old fossils who cling to outdated rules and refuse to embrace the new era... yet now, they've produced someone who has surpassed me. Reached the realm I dreamed of… before I could."
His voice turned serious, reverent almost.
"Even... surpassed me."
"What are you talking about?"
Hashirama could understand that the Hyūga might have produced a prodigy. But he still didn't grasp Madara's final goal—or what realm he was referring to.
"Just watch."
Madara's voice dropped to a whisper, his eyes glowing with anticipation.
"As an old comrade—and once an equal—I'll let you witness it. This final moment. Watch someone who never stopped moving forward… and shattered every limit."
"Entrusting your dreams to future generations is nothing more than an excuse for retreat. I don't entrust anything. I do it myself."
His words overflowed with pride, with conviction.
Uchiha Madara was not one to delay, not one to depend on others.
His dreams—his will—would be fulfilled by his own hand, by any means necessary.
After speaking, he began forming hand seals. Then, with force, he slammed his palm against the giant wooden man beneath him.
A wicked grin spread across his face as he felt the chakra surge in response.
"Summoning Technique!"
Bang!
The summoning circle flared to life. The spiritual channel connected—and with a thunderous crash, a colossal shadow descended from the heavens, slamming into the battlefield below.
Dust and debris exploded outward, hurling trees, stones, and bodies alike into the air.
Even far beyond the frontline, where terrified civilians had yet to evacuate from the Land of Water, the shockwave reached them.
In the early days of this war, shinobi still spared forces to protect the people.
But now? No one could help them.
This was no longer a war.
A war meant two or more sides, fighting for beliefs or resources.
What was happening now… was a massacre.
A one-sided slaughter carried out by a single man.
---
"What is that?!"
"A tree?"
"Wait… it has eyes—six of them!"
"No… there are nine! Three are still closed!"
---
Members of the Allied Shinobi Forces staggered to their feet, peering through the smoke.
Through coordinated perception techniques, a vivid image of the summoned creature was relayed to everyone within the network.
A towering humanoid monster loomed over the land. Its weight alone caused the ground to tremble.
Its form resembled Hashirama's Thousand-Armed Kannon, the ultimate Wood Style manifestation. But there was no mercy in this statue. No serenity.
It was monstrous—withered, grotesque, demonic.
On its face were nine eyes. Six were open.
Nine eyes…
Nine Tailed Beasts.
Realization struck many shinobi at once.
---
"Hmph. So you've finally arrived."
Madara didn't spare a glance at the immobilized Hashirama behind him. He leapt from the wooden titan, landing atop the colossal Outer Path Golem.
"Come on. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."
As his voice rang out, three enormous chains burst from the Golem's chest, streaking through the sky toward the three Jinchūriki racing toward the battlefield.
---
"So it's finally happening..."
Just one town away, in a quiet, abandoned house, Ryosuke lay resting—his eyes suddenly snapping open.
He raised a hand calmly.
An invisible wave of force rippled outward, shielding the entire town.
The violent winds and debris from the Golem's summoning crashed against the barrier and bounced away harmlessly—repelled by his power.
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