Silent Gunsmoke and Cang's Choice

The brutal battle in the valley ultimately ended in a mutual defeat.

The Uchiha clan possessed the absolute advantage of two pairs of Mangekyo Sharingan, yet they failed to completely crush the Senju. At the critical moment, Hashirama Senju's unfathomable Wood Style—which seemed as if it had received the assistance of heaven and earth—broke through, forcibly holding off the most violent onslaught of the Uchiha brothers and winning the Senju clan a chance to catch their breath and retreat.

Both sides paid a heavy price; the corpses and blood left on the battlefield told the tale of the war's cruelty.

In the Uchiha compound, the atmosphere did not become lighter due to the power breakthroughs of Madara and Izuna; instead, it grew even more somber.

Madara's old wounds on his shoulder and abdomen had yet to heal, and he had suffered massive exhaustion from forcibly pushing his Mangekyo and the intense combat. His complexion held an unhealthy pallor, yet the paranoia and coldness in his eyes grew deeper. He locked himself in the council chamber, seeing almost no one except Izuna, clearly digesting the power of the Mangekyo and plotting the next, inevitably more lethal, retaliation.

Izuna's condition was slightly better, but the wound on his right chest was severe. The Chakra attached to that special Kunai even interfered with the healing of the wound, requiring long-term treatment and rest. The Violet Susanoo Skeleton that had surrounded him had long since dissipated, but the hatred burning in his newly awakened Mangekyo was no less than Madara's.

After the initial fervor, the ordinary Uchiha clansmen also gradually calmed down, replaced by a deeper sense of unease. Two pairs of Mangekyo had failed to take down the Senju, and the power Hashirama Senju displayed at the end—like a god of the forest—filled them with primal fear. The shadow of war pressed down on the hearts of every clansman more heavily than ever before.

Uchiha Sou silently fulfilled his duties, participating in patrols, training, and occasionally executing less dangerous missions. He became even more low-key, burying all his doubts and shock deep within his heart.

But he did not stop observing and thinking.

He repeatedly recalled the strange sensation from the final moment on the battlefield—that subtle fluctuation as if the entire world had tilted slightly, quietly infusing a certain "vitality" into Hashirama Senju.

That was no illusion, he became increasingly certain.

Combined with Hashirama Senju's near-irrational breakthrough on the battlefield, a terrifying hypothesis gradually took shape in his mind: it seemed as if some great will, transcending ninja clans and even ninjas themselves, was secretly favoring Hashirama Senju—or rather, favoring that power of "life" and "fusion"—while repelling the extreme power of the Uchiha, which originated from the "heart" and "emotions (especially negative ones)."

This favoritism was not a direct intervention, but rather more like a tilting of "fortune," a partiality that provided a tiny bit of "inspiration" or a "nudge" at critical moments.

Why? Uchiha Sou felt a sense of immense injustice and a chill.

If the rules of the world were already skewed, then what was the meaning of the Uchiha's struggle and hatred? Was it not destined to end in destruction?

This thought made him feel as if he were suffocating.

But he quickly forced himself to calm down again.

No, if "Causality" can be interfered with, even by such a great existence, then it proves it is not absolutely unshakable. His gaze turned back to himself. This power of mine, though weak, its essence might just be touching one of the most fundamental rules of this world.

He recalled his countless failed internal "settings": making his Chakra a fraction purer, making his wounds heal a hair faster. These exercises were not entirely without effect; at the very least, they had brought his Chakra control to a startling level of precision, and his body's self-healing speed seemed slightly faster than his clansmen's.

Previously, he had thought this was the result of psychological effects or arduous training, but now, he had a different idea.

If the scales of the world's "Causality" can be moved by an invisible hand, then could I also... use myself as a fulcrum to, ever so slightly, move the scales that belong to me?

This thought made his heart race.

He no longer tried to "set" a specific result (such as accelerating wound healing by 1%), but began to attempt a more abstract practice, one closer to that "fluctuation" itself.

He sat cross-legged, his spirit highly concentrated, perceiving everything within himself: blood flow, Chakra circulation, cellular metabolism... then, he attempted to use his spirit and Dojutsu Power to "imitate" or "resonate" with the subtle fluctuation he had felt that day, the one where the world tilted toward "life."

He attempted to imbue this intention of "life" into his own wound healing or Chakra refinement, however weakly.

The process was extremely difficult, even more abstract and futile than before. He often sat still all night, only able to capture a vague sensation, unable to produce any actual effect.

But he did not give up. He knew this might be a path that truly led to understanding and utilizing his own abilities, a path that might allow him to glimpse or even oppose those "biased" rules of the world.

A few days later, by chance, he was responsible for escorting medical ninjas to the ward for the severely wounded.

The ward was filled with the heavy scent of medicine and blood, and the sounds of painful groaning were incessant. Many Uchiha ninjas who had been severely wounded in the valley battle lay here, and most of their conditions were not optimistic. The medical ninjas were rushed off their feet, and both Chakra and medicine were in extreme short supply.

Uchiha Sou watched all this in silence. His gaze swept over those broken bodies and desperate faces; the reality and cruelty of war were laid bare before his eyes.

In a corner, he saw a familiar figure—the clansman whose arm wound he had helped bandage by the training ground that day. At this moment, the clansman had a massive puncture wound in his abdomen. Although it had been treated, the area around the wound was blackened, clearly infected with some stubborn toxin or residual Chakra. His life force was like a candle in the wind, and the medical ninja had already shaken his head, preparing to give up.

The clansman seemed to recognize Tsang, and a faint plea and longing for life flickered in his unfocused eyes.

Uchiha Sou's heart was moved.

Driven by an inexplicable impulse, he stepped forward and whispered to the busy medical ninja, "Let me try."

The medical ninja glanced at him suspiciously, recognizing him as a talented young ninja in the clan, but not believing he could have any solution; he simply moved aside, exhausted.

Tsang crouched down, looking into the clansman's desperate and longing eyes.

He did not weave any hand signs, nor did he use any knowledge of medical ninjutsu—he didn't know any.

He simply took a deep breath and activated his Double Tomoe Sharingan, not for insight, but to maximize his mental focus and summon that special feeling.

He held his hand gently over the clansman's blackened wound.

He recalled the fluctuation he had sensed that day, the world tilting toward "life," and recalled the vague intention he had captured during his countless tedious exercises.

He cast aside all distracting thoughts, pouring all his spirit and his weak Dojutsu Power into one extremely simple intention:

"Let the power of 'life'... favor this place."

There were no specific metrics, only a pure intent directed toward "life's recovery."

He felt his mental energy being consumed rapidly, and his eyes began to throb with pain.

Time passed bit by bit, just as he was about to collapse and the medical ninja beside him was already showing signs of impatience—

A miracle occurred.

The stubborn, blackened necrotic tissue around the clansman's wound seemed to twitch ever so slightly! A trace of imperceptible, healthy pink hue struggled to seep out from the edges, and that fading life force actually stabilized by a tiny, tiny fraction, no longer continuing to slip away!

Although it was still a long way from recovery, this was undoubtedly a small step forcibly pulled back from the brink of death!

"This... what is this?!" The medical ninja beside him widened his eyes, looking at this scene that defied common sense in disbelief. He hurried forward to check, his face full of shock and confusion. "The toxin... it seems to have been suppressed a little? And the life force... how is this possible?"

The dying clansman's eyes regained a glimmer of faint light, and a hoarse, grateful sound emerged from his throat.

Uchiha Sou slowly withdrew his hand and deactivated his Sharingan, feeling a wave of intense dizziness and exhaustion wash over him, nearly causing him to lose his footing.

Yet, a tempest was raging within his heart!

He had succeeded!

Although the effect was so negligible it could be ignored and the consumption so immense it was unbearable, he had truly done it! It was not through medical ninjutsu, but through a method bordering on "prayer" that he had slightly skewed "Causality," securing a glimmer of life for that clansman!

This proved that his path was correct! This power could indeed touch the most fundamental rules of the world!

However, just as joy surged within him, an inexplicable and extremely subtle sense of repulsion and warning quietly emerged, as if some great will had cast a cold, indifferent glance at his act of "stealing" life and interfering with the established trajectory.

This feeling was fleeting, yet it left him feeling as though he had fallen into an ice cellar.

Was the world's bias not only reflected in its favor toward the Senju, but also in its... vigilance against those who attempted to "tamper" with fate?

Uchiha Sou watched as the medical ninja began to actively treat the clansman again, then silently exited the barracks.

Sunlight shone upon him, yet he felt not a shred of warmth.

The path of power had been revealed, but its end seemed fraught with unknown dangers and the gaze of a higher dimension.

He clenched his fists.

Even so, he would continue forward.

To find a path of his own in this biased world—a path to survive, and perhaps even to change something.

His gaze turned once more toward the center of the clan grounds, where the Mangekyou, representing destruction and hatred, was gathering strength in the shadows.

The moment the next storm arrives will not be far off.