The Minister of Finance hurried off to mobilize the remaining funds in the national treasury, fine beads of sweat dotting his forehead.
Before long, he returned with a group of attendants, each carrying dozens of large leather cases stuffed full of banknotes. Wen Lan gestured for Zhiyan to check them. After inspecting the contents, Zhiyan nodded.
The bills inside were neatly bundled, serial numbers continuous, not a single one damaged.
Only then did Wen Lan nod. Zhiyan pulled out a sealing scroll and sealed all the money inside.
Wen Lan lightly tapped the daimyō's face with the flat of his ninja blade.
"Next time, keep your eyes open. When the time comes every year, send the money yourself. Don't act all high and mighty.
I'm not killing you only because I'm too lazy to prop up a puppet. If you still don't behave, I'll chop you up and feed you to the dogs."
The daimyō's face was ashen. He didn't dare resist in the slightest, trembling as he repeatedly agreed.
Wen Lan sheathed his blade, swept a cold glance over the trembling retainers behind the daimyō, then turned and left.
Zhiyan stepped up beside Wen Lan and asked quietly, "Third Elder… what about Asuma?"
"Take him with us," Wen Lan replied flatly.
"Since that old dog Hiruzen won't behave, let him watch his own son die right in front of him."
"Yes!"
Zhiyan bound Asuma, sealed his chakra, hoisted him up with one hand, and followed.
Wen Lan didn't rush back that day—it was already noon—so they rested for a night.
They set off early the next morning.
Perhaps the psychological trauma from the 'crotch torture' was too severe—Asuma still hadn't woken up.
Wen Lan chewed on the bamboo skewer from his dango and asked casually,
"Zhiyan, what abilities does your Mangekyō have?"
Zhiyan scratched his head awkwardly and smiled.
"Left eye: Yata Mirror Reflection—it reflects all attacks back.
Right eye: Amenominakanushi—it preserves a corpse and can revive someone who's been dead for less than a week. Even if their soul has already gone to the Pure Land, or is sealed by a sealing technique, it can forcibly drag the soul back into the body."
Wen Lan's body stiffened instantly.
He whipped his head around and stared at Zhiyan.
"What… did you just say?!"
Zhiyan laughed sheepishly.
"I awakened it back in the Land of Rain… when I saw you get killed, Third Elder. I wanted to revive you."
The Sharingan was the eye that reflected the heart.
Its Mangekyō abilities manifested one's deepest desires—things desperately wished for, yet impossible to achieve by normal means.
Wen Lan fell silent for a long time. Then he reached out and patted Zhiyan's shoulder.
"The price?"
"To revive one person," Zhiyan said softly,
"that eye goes blind for fifty years. And during those fifty years, it can't be used a second time."
Wen Lan understood.
Amenominakanushi was nothing less than snatching a soul from the hands of death.
And that wasn't even the most terrifying part.
Souls summoned by Edo Tensei could be sealed away—but Amenominakanushi ignored sealing techniques entirely.
As the two talked while walking, Wen Lan suddenly raised a hand, stopping Zhiyan. His eyes narrowed as they shifted into three-tomoe Sharingan.
"Since you're already here," Wen Lan said coldly,
"stop hiding."
Leaves rustled.
Dozens of shinobi leapt down from the trees, forming a circular encirclement around the two of them.
Hiruzen Sarutobi walked out from the back of the group. Behind him stood a middle-aged man with his head lowered.
"Heh," Wen Lan sneered.
"What, old dog—planning a rebellion?"
Hiruzen's expression was complicated as his gaze fell on Asuma in Zhiyan's grasp.
"Release him."
"Oh, him?" Wen Lan laughed, grabbing Asuma by the hair and yanking his head up.
"You think that's possible, old dog?"
Pain flickered in Hiruzen's eyes, quickly replaced by ruthless resolve.
"Wen Lan. Your power is too great. If I can't use you… then don't blame me for being ruthless."
"Oh?" Wen Lan grinned mockingly.
"Ruthless? Then I'd love to see how."
His three tomoe spun slowly.
Suddenly—
Dozens of shuriken tore through the air from deep within the forest.
"Fire Release: Phoenix Sage Fire Claw Crimson!"
Several fireballs shot out from the woods, wrapping around the shuriken and turning them into blazing meteors that hurtled straight toward Wen Lan and Zhiyan.
Wen Lan's eyes narrowed slightly.
That voice… sounded familiar.
The shuriken collided midair, subtly changing trajectory through precise impacts, spreading out in a fan—yet their targets remained unchanged.
"Uchiha shuriken manipulation!"
Both Wen Lan and Zhiyan were startled.
Many could use shuriken techniques—but only the Uchiha could control collisions with such precision while keeping the target locked.
"Wind Release: Gale Palm!"
Zhiyan released Asuma, rapidly formed seals, and slammed his palm forward. A violent gust blasted the shuriken away.
Seizing the opening, Wen Lan leapt into the air. His Sharingan locked onto the caster's position.
"Fire Release: Crimson Land Spider!"
He inhaled sharply and spat flames while forming seals. The fire twisted into a giant flaming spider, lunging into the depths of the forest.
Wherever it passed, trees were instantly reduced to ash.
But then—
A towering water curtain suddenly rose.
The fire spider slammed into it, screeching as steam exploded outward. From behind the water wall stepped a figure.
Wen Lan's pupils shrank.
"Clan Head…?!"
Zhiyan shook violently, staring in disbelief.
Uchiha Fugaku.
Fugaku looked at Wen Lan coldly.
"Wen Lan, don't keep making mistakes. Only the Third Hokage is the Uchiha clan's true path forward."
Wen Lan sneered, his three tomoe spinning rapidly—then he frowned.
"Genjutsu…"
The chakra flow inside Fugaku was completely abnormal—this wasn't his natural state at all.
"Uchiha Wen Lan!"
A loud shout snapped Wen Lan's attention elsewhere.
He turned—
and his pupils constricted violently.
"That is—!"
Behind Hiruzen, the man standing there had Sharingan eyes—
four-pointed pinwheel Mangekyō.
"Shisui's eyes!"
Wen Lan froze for a split second, standing motionless after landing.
Zhiyan didn't understand why Wen Lan had stopped attacking—nor why Fugaku, their clan head, had turned on them. His mind was in chaos.
Hiruzen smiled faintly. He stepped forward, grabbed Wen Lan by the hair, and forced his head up.
"With power like yours, you should serve the old man—"
His pupils suddenly shrank.
He released Wen Lan and leapt backward!
At the same time, a cold flash of steel cut through the air.
Wen Lan stood in a slashing stance, blade humming as it passed exactly where Hiruzen's throat had been.
Years of battlefield instinct saved Hiruzen. He landed and staggered back, staring at Wen Lan in shock.
"You weren't controlled?!"
He whipped his head toward the Sarutobi clansman—
—but that man's eyes had already turned ashen gray.
Kotoamatsukami had clearly activated successfully!
Wen Lan slowly grinned, resting his blade on his shoulder.
"Old dog," he said calmly,
"you didn't think I had no trump card… did you?"
As he spoke, his Sharingan shifted and transformed—
into the terrifying pattern of the Mangekyō Sharingan.
—------------------------------
Pat reon Advance Chapters: patreon.com/YonkoSlayer