Battle Armor of the Past

Madara looked disdainfully at the leader, who had fallen into an illusion and was kneeling on the ground with tears and snot streaming down his face.

How weak!

Madara had thought that a Three-ring Soul Master on the other side would surely possess strong willpower, enough at least to break free from his illusion.

But Madara had misjudged him. Not every Three-ring Soul Master was as fierce as Scarface. Some had merely advanced through fortunate circumstances.

In truth, a contest of willpower had little to do with cultivation. Madara was only a two-ring Soul Grandmaster now, yet even against a Titled Douluo, he would not be inferior.

Madara looked around. No living person dared remain standing near him; the area around him had become a slaughterhouse.

Not bad!

Madara was sincerely satisfied with his Second Spirit Skill. If used properly, it could even allow him to kill opponents above his level.

There was nothing left in this forest worth lingering over, so Madara naturally chose to leave without hesitation.

When he returned to the previous town, the streets were still crowded with bustling people, and Madara was utterly inconspicuous among them.

Madara looked up at the Spirit Hall emblem above the town, then calmly walked inside.

Madara still decided that he needed to acquire some defensive equipment. After all, after years of fighting, there would always come a time when he slipped up.

And when you were attacked, the only thing that could protect your life was the armor on your body.

Madara looked over the shops along the street and casually entered one.

When the clerk saw him enter, he eagerly came forward. "Customer, what are you looking for?"

When Madara left the Star Dou Great Forest, he had naturally killed a few Spirit Beasts along the way and exchanged them for money in town.

His clothes were still somewhat ragged, and the clerk noticed it. People like him had usually just come out of the Star Dou Great Forest and were naturally carrying a large sum of money.

Madara casually wandered through the shop, absentmindedly looking through the merchandise. There were sabers, spears, swords, halberds, shields, and armor—a dazzling assortment.

In the armor section, Madara's steps involuntarily came to a halt. Looking over the wide array of defensive gear, he began examining them one by one.

Yet for some reason, he found almost nothing he liked. He always felt that none of this armor suited him.

Suddenly, Madara felt an inexplicable stir in his heart, as though something were drawing him in. He immediately stopped, closed his eyes, and carefully sensed it.

"Customer, what's wrong?" the clerk leading the way asked, turning around in confusion.

"Nothing." Madara waved him off, with no intention of explaining.

Having worked here for many years, the clerk was no fool. He tactfully did not ask again.

As Madara continued wandering, he was filled with surprise. There was a strange yet familiar fluctuation here, constantly drawing him closer.

Could there be some treasure here?

As he passed a shabby storeroom, Madara casually glanced inside. But that single glance rooted him to the spot.

"What is that?" Madara grabbed the clerk, pointing with one hand toward the open storeroom as he asked urgently.

"You mean this?" The clerk was startled by Madara's sudden action. Only after steadying himself did he look in the direction Madara pointed.

Through the gap in the open doorway, the clerk saw what had made Madara so excited.

It was a battered suit of armor that had just been dug out of the earth, still bearing fresh soil and covered in blotches of rust.

"This is a treasure we dug out of the ground!" Seeing Madara's eager expression, the clerk's eyes shifted before he cleared his throat and put on an act.

In reality, it was merely scrap iron the shop had acquired.

Scrap iron!

Seeing its familiar style and the faint traces of red, Madara's heart sank.

The clerk was somewhat intimidated by Madara's fierce appearance, but for the sake of profit, he forced himself to say, "But the price naturally won't be cheap!"

"They're all yours." Madara casually tossed his bag full of Gold Soul Coins onto the counter. It landed with a heavy thud, as though he had thrown away a bag of trash.

Madara then stepped forward impatiently and placed his hand on the armor, gently stroking it.

The care and caution in his movements made it seem as though he were touching the jade-like skin of an unparalleled beauty.

Feeling that familiar texture, Madara murmured in a daze, "Old friend! I never thought you would come back to my side!"

The clerk greedily opened the bag. The glittering Gold Soul Coins inside nearly blinded him.

The two each caressed their own treasure, but Madara's enraptured expression caught the clerk's attention.

Could it really be some priceless treasure?

Madara's former indifference stood in stark contrast to his current eagerness and excitement.

The clerk began to wonder whether he had truly sold it too cheaply. Could that piece of scrap iron really be worth a fortune?

Madara casually wiped it down with his hand, ignoring the mud on it as he impatiently put on the suit of armor.

He did not know how this Battle Armor had come to this world, but since it had appeared before him, he naturally had to take it back.

After all, this Battle Armor carried the glory of his past and many beautiful memories.

The dark crimson armor fit over his body, perfectly matching Madara's aura of a god of slaughter.

Its deep red color seemed to turn into blood, flowing freely over his body.

If it had to be described in one phrase, it was like a tiger growing wings.

Clack! Clack!

Madara slightly moved his joints, and the plates of armor struck one another with crisp sounds, as though they were cheering for their master's return.

"I, Uchiha Madara, have returned!" Madara circulated the Soul Power and Chakra within his body, then gave a slight shake.

The rust and dirt fell away, revealing the scarlet armor beneath.

"Sir, could I perhaps not sell this Battle Armor after all?" The clerk had barely spoken when he saw the killing intent in Madara's eyes.

After seeing how imposing Madara looked in the Battle Armor, he had decided that it must be a treasure.

And since it was a treasure, selling it so cheaply had surely been a loss!

Greed was the original sin!

The clerk clearly did not know that saying. He had only intended to overcharge someone and had received a whole bag of Gold Soul Coins for nothing.

Yet he was still so ungrateful. He was truly courting death.

Madara tightly gripped his throat and asked with a sinister gaze, "Say that again!"

"N-No! Take it, sir! Please take it!" The clerk hurriedly waved his hands, breaking out in a cold sweat as he forced a smile.

Madara lifted him as though he were a chick and casually threw him toward the counter, as if tossing away garbage.

He then ignored the Soul Masters who rushed in, clearly guards who had been about to make a move but were frightened by the bloody aura and killing intent surrounding Madara.

Those Soul Masters were so terrified that they did not dare move at all, watching helplessly as Madara walked past them.

What a bunch of trash!