"We not only lost several elite jonin, but also misplaced most of the ninja blades."
Black Zetsu spoke softly.
Uchiha Madara remained composed, half-reclining on his throne of withered wood.
"Heh—any stray cat or dog can wave a banner now. Has the ninja world declined to this extent?"
The Asura of the ninja world lowered his gaze in disdain.
"Relying on a few pieces of scrap metal, cripples who need crutches even to dance—"
"What did they take war for? Children playing house?"
Hashirama—did you see that?
What you protected was nothing more than this group of filthy, weak things.
Ignorant. Inferior.
They fought and killed for intangible things, tearing this fragile ninja world into pieces.
Was this what you chose—
The world you chose even at the cost of driving a blade into my heart—
You were wrong. People grew sentimental in old age, and even Uchiha Madara was no exception.
"Hehehe—after all, they are merely a bunch of insignificant trash. Not everyone can understand you—"
"Compared to Lord Madara, everyone in the ninja world is like worthless weeds and broken stones. It is only natural that they cannot catch your eye."
Black Zetsu's fawning voice rang out as he controlled Spiked White Zetsu's body into an expression of admiration.
"Stop flattering me. Just do your job."
Uchiha Madara's voice remained cold, though it was clearly much gentler than before.
Heh—what an ignorant fool—
Black Zetsu cursed silently.
Live your entire life inside the dream I have woven for you—
Keep that arrogant posture and step into the final game—
At that moment, Black Zetsu kept his head very low.
The lower his head was, the greater the resentment in his heart.
You, neither fully alive nor dead, had long since lost Indra's Chakra's favor.
Facing this legendary figure,