Art Is Patrick Star!

Compared to Uchiha Madara's bewilderment, White Zetsu looked far more agitated.

He was currently dragging the tube behind Uchiha Madara that connected him to the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path, running around wildly while repeatedly letting out piercing shrieks:

"Ahhhhh!!"

"The Demonic Statue of the Outer Path is running away!"

"Oh no, oh no! This is bad!"

"Lord Madara is gonna kick the bucket!"

Uchiha Madara's face immediately darkened when he heard that. What did he mean, he was about to kick the bucket?

Although he had been using the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path as an IV drip of nutrients these past years, that did not mean he could not survive a single second without it!

"Enough. Quiet down!"

Growing irritated, Uchiha Madara barked out an order, then grabbed the tube on his back and yanked hard.

White Zetsu, who had been making a racket just moments ago, suddenly felt an immense force in his hand. The next instant, his entire body was flung in front of Madara.

"Lord Madara, why aren't you dead yet?"

Lying on the ground, he raised his head and asked in confusion.

"My body has not deteriorated to the point where I'll die suddenly just because I'm disconnected from the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path!!"

Uchiha Madara gritted his teeth as he looked at White Zetsu before him.

At the same time, he felt a trace of regret—

He should never have fused Hashirama Cells into these White Zetsu bodies. Now nearly every one of them was both an idiot and a chatterbox. They were noisy all day long!

Uchiha Madara continued grumbling inwardly, filled with disdain for that idiot Hashirama's cells, yet unable to stop a hint of nostalgia from surfacing...

As for White Zetsu, after hearing Uchiha Madara's murderous reprimand, he hurriedly shrank his neck and shut his mouth.

Taking advantage of this rare moment of peace, Uchiha Madara quickly considered several possibilities for the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path's sudden disappearance.

"Could that brat from the Uzumaki Clan have awakened the power of the Rinnegan so soon?"

Uchiha Madara quickly frowned.

The Rinnegan's power was far too immense. In order to prolong his own life as much as possible, he had no choice but to temporarily transplant them into a gifted Uzumaki Clan Member.

But the problem was that brat from the Uzumaki Clan was only six or seven years old.

At that age, how could he possibly summon the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path?

And White Zetsu's report confirmed Uchiha Madara's thoughts.

"I left many Spores on that brat. If he had truly awakened the power of the Rinnegan, I should have sensed something. But there are no signs of it so far."

White Zetsu's words made Uchiha Madara furrow his brow even more deeply.

Because only the Rinnegan possessed the authority to summon the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path, the shell of the Divine Tree.

Since it was not that brat named Nagato, did that mean there was a second person in the present shinobi world who, like him, had cultivated the Rinnegan?

At that thought, Madara could not help raising an eyebrow.

Could there truly be someone in the present shinobi world as exceptionally talented as himself?

With a certain sense of anticipation, he turned his gaze to White Zetsu once more and said:

"Step up intelligence gathering on the shinobi world for a while. See if you can find any traces of the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path appearing!"

"Yes!"

Land of Rain, Rain Dragon Valley.

The facts proved that Hanzo's Ibuse truly was no match for the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path.

More precisely, the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path had held an overwhelming advantage from the very beginning of this battle.

Not only did it crush Ibuse in size, it was completely immune to the poisonous gas attack for which Ibuse was famed.

After all, its terrifying height alone made it difficult for the poison gas to enter its body.

Besides, it was not even certain whether the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path needed to breathe.

It was merely the Ten-Tails' shell, not a true living creature.

Thus, this Summoning Beast, infamous across the battlefields of the Land of Rain, could only be beaten into screaming before the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path.

Yet its miserable cries did not awaken Hanzō the Salamander's courage.

He was repeatedly using the Body Flicker Technique, sprinting toward Amegakure as fast as he could.

Just as Hanzō thought he had finally shaken off his pursuers, several sharp whooshes rang out in succession—

Several white birds swooped down at high speed from the sky, hurtling toward him.

Hanzō did not hesitate for even a moment. He directly swung the scythe in his hand.

Several frigid flashes of blade light swept through the air, instantly slicing the white birds in half.

But that wave of attacks did not end there. The severed white birds began to rapidly swell.

Violent explosions rang out one after another, and the smoke from the blasts completely engulfed Hanzō.

Unfortunately, such attacks clearly could not kill Hanzō.

His figure darted from the black smoke, his cold gaze lifting toward the sky.

"That damn brat actually caught up?"

Hanzō stared at Jingū Kiraku's figure above him, and the confidence and flippancy in his eyes had already vanished.

The immense Summoning Beast had displayed power far too shocking. At the very least, Hanzō had no desire to face that monster right now.

"Hanzō, you truly haven't disappointed me. You're as cowardly as ever."

Standing atop a massive white bird, Jingū Kiraku looked down at him as he spoke.

There was contempt and disdain in his voice, because Hanzō's performance was just like in the original story—timid and weak.

Before powerful enemies, he would always choose to flee and compromise, even at the cost of sacrificing his subordinates and companions.

Hearing Jingū Kiraku's contemptuous mockery, Hanzō the Salamander's expression immediately darkened.

He first glanced at the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path standing in the distance. Once he confirmed that it could not threaten him in the short term, cold killing intent immediately surfaced within him.

"Brat, now that you're away from that monster's protection, let's see what you're capable of!"

The moment he finished speaking, his body vanished from where he stood.

A chilling killing intent instantly locked onto Jingū Kiraku. In the blink of an eye, Hanzō crossed dozens of meters and appeared in midair where Kiraku stood.

"Die, brat."

Hanzō's scythe erupted with terrifying cold, and a snow-white blade flash bloomed like lightning.

Alarm bells instantly rang in Jingū Kiraku's mind—was this the speed of a top-tier shinobi world expert?

A strong sense of wariness rose within him. He decisively detonated the bird beneath his feet.

The shockwave from the fierce explosion successfully sent him to the ground, allowing him to evade Hanzō's killing strike.

The price was that he now looked far more disheveled.

At the same time, Hanzō landed on the ground as well.

"As expected, summoning that monster must have consumed quite a bit of your Chakra, right?"

"Although I don't know how you obtained that monster or that bizarre explosive ability, no matter what, your time has come."

Holding his scythe, Hanzō seemed to regain some of his confidence.

Today, he would completely eliminate this hidden danger and restore peace to the Land of Rain!

At those words, Jingū Kiraku slowly rose to his feet. Under Hanzō's incomprehensible gaze, he tore open his shirt, which had been shredded by the explosion.

A strange mouth growing from his chest was immediately revealed.

"Lord Hanzō, may I ask if you know what art is?"

Jingū Kiraku suddenly asked.

The question left Hanzō stunned.

Art?

What art?

I said I was going to kill you, and you're asking me what art is?

While Hanzō was dumbfounded, Jingū Kiraku had already stuffed a lump of clay into the mouth on his chest.

A powerful aura of danger spread from his body.

Hanzō watched Jingū Kiraku give him a subtle smile. Then his eyes turned red, black tomoe swirling within them.

"Lord Hanzō, art is..."

"Patrick Star!!"