The retreating party moved silently through the woods. On their way out, they had been like a drawn sword; now they returned burdened by heavy casualties and an oppression that refused to lift. The stench of blood and charred flesh seemed to have soaked into everyone's clothes, lingering stubbornly.
Uchiha Sou was carried on the back of one of his clansmen. Each jolt tugged at the wound in his chest, sending sharp waves of pain through him and cold sweat streaming down his face as his complexion grew paler. But he clenched his teeth and didn't make a sound. With his exhausted yet unnervingly alert Sharingan, he silently watched the people around him.
Most of the clan members looked grim and cold. Whatever joy they might have felt at their victory—if crushing Hagoromo counted as a victory—had long since been swept away by the losses and humiliation caused by the Senju's sudden intervention. They warily watched the darkness around them, as if new enemies might spring from the shadows at any moment. After the brutal ordeal they had just endured, everyone's nerves were still taut.
Izuna walked at the head of the party, his back straight, yet radiating an indescribable killing intent. Every so often, he glanced back over the group, pausing especially to check on Uchiha Sou. His Three-Tomoe Sharingan glimmered like burning coals in the darkness, reflecting its owner's deeply unsettled state of mind.
"Lord Izuna," a jōnin assigned to the rear guard hurried up and reported in a low voice, "we've seen no signs of pursuit. It seems the Senju really have withdrawn."
Izuna gave a cold snort. "Hmph. That mad dog Tobirama has crawled back into his kennel now that he's achieved his goal." His fingers absently rubbed the hilt of his sword. "His appearance this time was no coincidence."
He sounded as though he were thinking aloud, but he also seemed to be explaining his thoughts to the trusted ninja beside him. "It was far too convenient. We'd barely finished clearing out Hagoromo's rabble when he showed up, right on time, with a clear objective. First, he silenced witnesses, then..." His gaze swept over Cang again. "...he tried to assassinate a promising youngster. Does that sound like a spur-of-the-moment decision?"
The trusted ninja beside him looked grave. "You mean... word of our operation may have leaked? Or was Hagoromo itself bait?"
"Bait is unlikely. Hagoromo isn't valuable enough for the Senju to use an important outpost as bait." Izuna's eyes sharpened. "More likely, Tobirama learned of our movements through some means we don't know about. Or... he anticipated how we'd react after the clash in the northwest and waited for this opportunity."
His analysis was chillingly calm. Those who heard it couldn't help shuddering. If he was right, Senju Tobirama's schemes and calculations ran far deeper than anyone could have imagined.
Lying across his clansman's back, Uchiha Sou heard every word Izuna said. His heart began to pound uncontrollably again.
The clash in the northwest... the encounter that had been "accidentally" triggered because of him... could it really have been the beginning of everything? Had Tobirama picked up on the Uchiha's movements and their likely desire for revenge, then predicted this attack? Had he even been watching from the shadows all along, waiting for the Uchiha to make their move before carrying out his plan to silence witnesses and take out their promising young?
If so, hadn't the kunai he'd thrown without thinking become, without his knowledge, one link in Tobirama's scheme to manipulate the entire Uchiha operation?
The thought sent a bone-deep chill through him, more painful than the wound in his chest. He felt as if he'd fallen into an invisible web, while the cold, pitiless eyes of the one who had woven it watched him silently from the darkness.
"Pick up the pace!" Izuna ordered sharply, saying no more. "We need to get back to the clan compound as soon as possible. We must report this to Big Brother immediately!"
The party quickened its pace a little, but the mood grew even heavier.
At last, the familiar outline of the Uchiha Clan Compound and the figures of its patrol ninja came into view. Seeing the returning force in such a miserable state, the guards immediately sprang into action and hurried forward to help.
"Lord Izuna! What happened—"
"Notify Big Brother at once. We're going to the council hall." Izuna cut him off, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Take the wounded to the Medical Corps. Treat them first!"
The compound was soon in an uproar. The clan members who had stayed behind saw the bodies and the many wounded being carried back, especially Uchiha Sou with his blood-soaked chest, and showed shock, anger, and grief.
"It was the Senju! It had to be them!" "Damn white-haired bastard! We'll make them pay!" Angry whispers and curses spread through the crowd.
Uchiha Sou was carefully lowered onto a stretcher and carried toward the Medical Corps. Before they left, he took one last look at Izuna. Izuna gave him a slight nod, his expression complicated. There was concern and encouragement in his eyes, but deeper still lay a settled, bone-chilling killing intent.
"Focus on recovering," Izuna said. Then he turned and strode toward the largest building in the center of the compound—the clan leader's council hall, radiating bloodlust and menace. He needed to report everything from that night to Uchiha Madara at once, especially Senju Tobirama's strange actions and the possible conspiracy behind them.
The Medical Corps was filled with the heavy mixed scents of herbs and blood. Many ninja had been injured, and the medical ninja were working frantically.
Uchiha Sou's wound was cleaned again, treated, and carefully bandaged. The intense pain left him nearly drained, but he forced himself to endure it and stay conscious.
The older medical ninja treating him frowned as he examined the deep, clean wound. "That was close... A little deeper or a little farther to the side, and it would have hit your internal organs. This technique... was it Senju Tobirama?"
Uchiha Sou nodded silently.
The medical ninja sighed and continued bandaging him with practiced hands. "You're lucky to have come away with your life against someone like him. Rest easy. The wound is deep, but it hasn't damaged anything vital. With our Uchiha constitution and the medicine, you should be able to move around again in about half a month."
Uchiha Sou lay on the sickbed, staring at the ceiling. He could hear the other wounded ninja groaning through their pain and the medical ninja talking quietly. His body was utterly exhausted, but his mind was unusually alert.
The events of the night played over and over in his mind like a lantern show: the flames at the Hagoromo Outpost, the battle between his clansmen and the Senju, the earth-shaking duel between Izuna and Tobirama, and the cold kunai aimed straight at his throat...
And the unsettling suspicion about "causality."
He slowly lifted his hand and looked at his still slightly trembling fingers. In the faint candlelight, they seemed no different from before he had crossed over, but they were already stained with the blood and dust of this world.
His desire to grow stronger had never been so intense or urgent.
It wasn't only for his own protection or to survive on the battlefield.
It was also to find out what kind of maelstrom he'd been caught up in, and to be strong enough to face those cold, calculating eyes hidden behind the scenes.
He closed his eyes and focused inward. The pain in his chest remained sharp, but the faint warmth and restless stir in his eyes were just as distinct.
His Single-Tomoe Sharingan appeared of its own accord in the darkness, rotating slowly.
After being tempered by blood and fire and pushed to the brink of death, the barrier between it and the Two-Tomoe seemed to have grown thin as a cicada's wing.
Perhaps the next time he opened his eyes, the world would be different.
Deep within the compound, the lights in the council hall burned all night.
Before you continue