Sickle and War Fan

After eating and drinking their fill, Madara and Tang Hao rested for a while. Although Tang Hao did not cook at home, he was quite skilled at grilling meat.

It seemed he had often ventured into the Spirit Beast Forest in his younger days.

"My First Spirit Skill allows me to control and use flames, increasing fire-based attacks by fifty percent. I named it Fire Release!"

Madara had originally chosen a fire-attributed Spirit Beast. Combined with how the Sharingan symbolized blood and fire, gaining the ability to control flames was nothing strange.

That was also why Madara had chosen a fire-attributed Spirit Beast: it allowed him to reclaim the Fire Release techniques from his past life. As expected, the result had not disappointed him.

Tang Hao added several logs to the campfire, clapped his hands, and said with interest, "Show me!"

Madara nodded, rose to his feet, and activated his Martial Soul in an open patch nearby.

Sharingan, activate!

"Fire Release: Great Fireball!"

Madara took a deep breath, then exhaled surging flames that gathered into an enormous fireball.

It blasted fiercely into the clearing ahead, exploding instantly and sending countless clumps of dirt and lingering flames flying.

Tang Hao praised him sincerely. "That's already quite good."

Tang Hao casually waved a hand, and the dry branches and fallen leaves ignited by the scattered sparks were immediately extinguished.

No, my First Spirit Skill should let me use all Fire Release techniques!

Was it because of this world's restrictions? Or because... ?

As he thought about it, Madara seemed to realize something. His Sharingan only had one tomoe.

Madara had a feeling that once his Sharingan awakened and evolved, he would not only be able to use the Great Fireball, but other Fire Release techniques as well.

What he needed to do now was hone his combat skills. This was only the beginning.

"I want to stay here and fight," Madara said solemnly to Tang Hao.

Tang Hao poked at the fire absentmindedly and said, "Even if you hadn't said so, that was what I intended."

There was an inexplicable meaning in Tang Hao's words, as though he were desperately eager for Madara to grow stronger.

Madara's heart stirred, and he was just about to ask something.

But Tang Hao gave him no chance to speak and said first, "Sleep. We officially begin tomorrow."

With that, he headed into his haphazardly erected tent without looking back.

Fire Release: Great Fireball!

After turning another hundred-year Spirit Beast into charcoal, Madara wiped the blood from his cheek and let out a breath.

It had now been a month since Madara entered this forest. Yet in that single month, he had undergone a complete transformation, successfully tempered through blood and fire.

He had at least regained some of his combat abilities from his past life, and his Soul Power had reached Rank 15.

If word got out, countless geniuses would probably have their jaws drop.

"Three today." Madara immediately sat down to recover as quickly as possible.

Tang Hao had already made an agreement with Madara. During battle, he would not lend a hand unless Madara's life was in danger, or he encountered a thousand-year or ten-thousand-year Spirit Beast that he could not resist.

So Madara could now recover his Soul Power in peace. Tang Hao handled everything else.

"What is it?" Tang Hao asked sleepily as he lay atop a tree branch.

"I need a weapon. You're a blacksmith—can you forge one for me?" Madara demanded without ceremony.

Tang Hao laboriously climbed to his feet, stretched hard, and said, "Let's go!"

Madara's Sharingan Martial Soul was a Body Martial Soul. Unlike Beast Martial Souls, it could not strengthen his body for close combat. Unlike Tool Martial Souls, it could not grant a Soul Master a weapon.

Though Madara was unafraid thanks to his experience from his previous life, he would be at a severe disadvantage if he truly fought someone. His request was entirely reasonable.

Tang Hao then flew Madara back to the Blacksmith Shop.

Madara pushed open the door. The room was covered in dust, and for an instant, he felt as though a lifetime had passed.

A month ago, he had still been struggling to make a living at home with his younger brother, Tang San. Now Tang San had left home to study, while he trained under Tang Hao's supervision.

"Go. Bring those iron blocks from the back," Tang Hao instructed Madara as he removed his tattered cloak.

Hearing this, Madara laboriously carried over several refined iron blocks the size of human heads. Fortunately, they were not too large, or he might not have been able to move them at all.

"What weapon do you want?" Tang Hao asked, lifting an iron block with one hand as though he were picking up a stone and placing it onto the heavy iron anvil.

He looked utterly effortless, as though he still had plenty in reserve.

"A sickle and a war fan!" Scorching heat rolled toward him, but Madara did not retreat in the slightest.

Tang Hao casually picked up the hammer tossed in the corner and prepared to begin.

Then Madara suddenly spoke. "You're planning to leave, aren't you, Father?"

Tang Hao still said nothing, but his body stiffened sharply when Madara called him Father.

This brat... I don't think he's ever called me Father before!

Tang Hao's hard and unkempt face seemed to soften considerably for an instant, before immediately returning to normal.

So that was it? Madara had noticed it long ago. Otherwise, Tang Hao would not have been so eager to push him to grow stronger.

But Madara held no fear for the future. Instead, he felt a trace of excitement. Though the warmth of home made him reluctant to part with it,

the departure of his two family members would turn him back into the lone wolf who once roamed the Shinobi World.

Madara could not hide the excitement in his voice. "Then, can you let me see your Martial Soul?"

Tang Hao fell silent for a while. Then he gave Madara a serious look, as though reassessing his son. "Then watch carefully!"

In an instant, Tang Hao's long hair moved without wind, and all the decadence on his body vanished. His aura rose steadily, seemingly without end.

Martial Soul Possession: Clear Sky Hammer!

Yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black, black, black, red—nine Spirit Rings of different colors appeared behind Tang Hao.

Nine Spirit Rings were the symbol of a Titled Douluo.

The Clear Sky Douluo had arrived!

Without hesitation, Tang Hao unleashed the Disorder Splitting Wind Hammer and struck the refined iron with a single blow.

The reverberating sound made Madara's eardrums ache. Tang Hao's strength was clear to see.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Tang Hao's hammer seemed to leave afterimages. The clanging of metal fused into a continuous stream, like pleasing music.

In mere moments, the refined iron was hammered down by force, shrinking by an entire size. In the time it took to drink a pot of tea, a piece of Iron Essence—which Tang San would not know how long to hammer out—was forged as if by magic.

Then another piece, and another.

Treasures that other blacksmiths would consider peerless were casually tossed onto the ground as though they cost nothing.

At last, the raw materials were ready. Madara obediently began working the bellows.

Clang! Clang!

Under Tang Hao's hammer, the hard steel seemed like soft dough, freely kneaded together and reshaped.

Steam rose and filled the entire room. Tang Hao handed the still-warm war fan and sickle to Madara.

"Stand with me at the peak of this world!" Madara received them solemnly, carefully stroking them as though they were old friends he had not seen for many years.

Madara tried swinging them a few times. The mournful whistle through the air and the familiar feel in his hands left him extremely satisfied.

"I'm leaving." Tang Hao lowered his head and gently rubbed Madara's spiky hair.

Unexpectedly, Madara did not resist. His expression was hidden beneath his tousled bangs.

Madara still did not move, like a silent statue.

Tang Hao said nothing more. Picking up his luggage, he walked toward the door.

He needed to find a way to settle some scores with certain people.

"Have a safe journey, Father." Madara's lips curled upward as he offered the blessing calmly.

Neither of them turned around to look at the other. Yet the smiles on their faces were exactly the same, each silently moved by the other's blessing.

Father, if you have any enemies, I'll kill them for you someday.

Little Madara, how far will you go? As your father, I'm looking forward to seeing it.