Ever since his successful "guidance" of Kagami Uchiha at the training grounds that day, Uchiha Cang had become even more focused on this low-risk, high-efficiency approach that combined "Weaving Logic" with "Guidance."
He still kept a low profile, spending most of his time on "Inner Seeking," consolidating the harmonious fluctuations that arose within him and refining them until they flowed with ever greater ease. His control over his own power grew increasingly precise. Though his total Chakra and mental strength increased slowly, their quality continued to improve, like repeatedly tempered steel—far more resilient and potent than Chakra of the same amount.
Now and then, he would walk through the clan compound, seeming to wander aimlessly while actually observing the younger generation.
He no longer offered direct advice, choosing instead to influence them in subtler ways. Sometimes, while sparring with someone, he would deliberately circulate his Chakra to demonstrate an especially efficient and stable pattern. Sometimes, while discussing ninjutsu, he would "casually" mention a key point about Chakra control. At other times, he would simply sit quietly nearby, letting the harmonious fluctuations of his "Internal Seeking" emanate ever so faintly, like a silent domain that subtly influenced the moods and states of those around him, making it easier for them to quiet their minds and understand themselves.
The influence was silent and imperceptible, and its effects were hardly immediate. But Uchiha Cang could sense that among the still-immature Chakra fluctuations in the compound, a few seemed to be growing denser and more orderly. The change was most noticeable in the boy named Kagami Uchiha. His rate of progress had clearly accelerated. He still wasn't among the very best, but his fundamentals were exceptionally solid, his control over Chakra far surpassed that of his peers, and his gaze held a little more calm and thoughtfulness.
This tiny change was like a few grains of sand tossed into a surging river of darkness. They stirred no ripples, yet perhaps one day they might become an inconspicuous but steady foothold at the bottom of the riverbed.
The world's sense of rejection did not descend upon him. This confirmed Cang's suspicion: indirect guidance that did not directly interfere with fate, but merely offered "possibilities" and "methods," was permitted—or, perhaps, simply ignored.
However, the overall atmosphere in the clan compound did not ease with this subtle turn for the better. Instead, it grew even more oppressive.
Uchiha Madara's injuries continued to relapse. The runes Tobirama Senju had left behind were vicious, constantly eating away at him as if alive, and even trying to corrupt Madara's Dojutsu Power. Madara spent most of his time locked in a perilous internal struggle against this force. His temper had grown darker and more unpredictable, and even the aura that occasionally seeped from his sealed room was enough to make people's hearts tremble. The strongest pillar of the Uchiha Clan had been firmly confined to his sickbed—for now.
All the pressure had fallen squarely on Izuna Uchiha's shoulders.
He used his Mangekyō Sharingan with increasing frequency, so often that it made Uchiha Cang's heart pound with alarm. The light in Izuna's eyes dimmed at a visible rate. He had begun to unconsciously hold scrolls farther away while reading, and during battle, he occasionally made the briefest of misjudgments—a deadly warning sign for Uchiha, who relied on their top-tier dynamic vision.
The bottle of Medicinal Oil Cang had sent seemed to have helped a tiny bit. At least Izuna had not suffered another severe headache from overusing his Dojutsu Power. But that was only a drop in the bucket. Izuna had grown even quieter, his face pale year-round. Only the fire burning in his increasingly unfocused eyes remained, growing ever more obsessive and resolute.
He could not afford to fall. That would leave the Uchiha without their only Mangekyō combatant. Nor could he let his elder brother's years of effort and the Uchiha's pride be lost at his hands. The crushing pressure and fear of going blind were pushing him, step by step, toward his limit.
That day, Izuna summoned several senior clan elders and elite jōnin. Cang was among them.
The atmosphere in the sealed room was so heavy it was almost suffocating. Izuna sat in the seat of honor, fingers unconsciously tapping the tabletop as his gaze swept over everyone with cold scrutiny.
"Tobirama Senju..." he began, his voice hoarse and filled with hatred. "His activities have once again brought him close to several important mines in the clan's southwest. Three of our patrol squads stationed there have already been lost, all killed by a bizarre talisman never seen before—one capable of triggering internal explosions."
An elder's face turned livid. "Another one of Tobirama's new tricks! His research into Forbidden Jutsu has absolutely no limits!"
"Limits?" Izuna gave a cold laugh. Three Tomoe slowly appeared in his eyes, and his tone held a trace of mockery. "How much are limits worth in the face of victory? My brother is gravely injured, our clan's top combatants are constrained, and Hashirama Senju is stationed behind their lines. Just one Tobirama, with his bizarre Forbidden Jutsu, is enough to keep our clan scrambling to respond!"
He paused, his gaze turning even sharper. "We can't just sit back and wait. We have to find out what Tobirama is researching, where his laboratory is, and where those Forbidden Jutsu come from!"
"What do you have in mind, Lord Izuna?" another elite jōnin asked.
"Send an elite reconnaissance squad deep into Senju territory and obtain information on Tobirama's laboratory at any cost." Izuna's voice was firm as steel, carrying the weight of a desperate gamble. "If necessary, use unconventional methods. Capture a Senju researcher, or... steal their research materials."
The atmosphere in the sealed room grew even heavier. Venturing deep into Senju territory with Tobirama Senju as their target was like snatching food from a tiger's mouth. Their chances of success were slim, and the mission would inevitably come at a terrible cost.
"Lord Izuna, isn't this too risky?" a relatively elderly clan elder asked hesitantly. "Tobirama is cunning and suspicious. His laboratory is sure to be heavily guarded. If we fail..."
"Fail?" Izuna cut him off, his voice suddenly rising, filled with barely restrained agitation and ruthlessness. "Are we not already failing? We're standing by as our people die one by one to those inexplicable Forbidden Jutsu! We're watching our territory get eaten away bit by bit! If we wait until Tobirama develops something even more terrifying, or until Hashirama Senju fully masters that inhuman power, we won't even have the chance to take a risk!"
He abruptly rose to his feet. His emotions surging, the Three Tomoe in his eyes spun wildly, and his vision seemed to blur for a moment. He instinctively braced himself against the edge of the table.
Everyone noticed that subtle movement. The air in the sealed room seemed to freeze.
Uchiha Cang's heart sank. Izuna's condition had deteriorated to the point where even a surge of emotion could affect his vision.
Izuna took a deep breath, forcing down his discomfort. His gaze turned cold and resolute once more as he swept it across everyone present. "This is an order. The Uchiha haven't grown so weak that we need to cower in fear! Necessary sacrifices are unavoidable for the sake of the clan! Pick your people at once. I want the best we have at infiltration and reconnaissance!"
The order had been given. No one dared object.
After the meeting, everyone left with heavy hearts. Uchiha Cang brought up the rear. He could feel the desperation and grim resolve of someone staking everything on one last gamble radiating from Izuna.
He knew that whether this mission succeeded or not, it would only deepen the hatred between the two clans and spill more blood. And Izuna's eyesight probably could not withstand another intense use of the Mangekyō.
He returned to his quarters and sat in silence for a long time.
The wheel of history continued to rumble along its original path, carrying the stench of bloodshed and destruction. The tiny "lights" he had planted seemed so feeble and insignificant before this vast darkness.
What could he do? Take another risk and interfere? His targets would be Tobirama Senju and Izuna Uchiha, two absolutely pivotal figures. The causal entanglement would be enough to instantly consume him until nothing remained.
He closed his eyes and let his consciousness sink into the harmonious realm of "Internal Seeking" within him.
The accumulation of power was still far too slow.
Several days later, a reconnaissance squad of five elite Uchiha jōnin slipped away from the clan compound under cover of night. Like droplets merging into the sea, they headed into the territory controlled by the Senju Clan.
Izuna Uchiha stood atop a watchtower, gazing in the direction where they had disappeared. The night wind stirred the hair at his forehead, revealing his Sharingan, whose cold and anxious light glimmered in the darkness.
The intelligence scroll in his hand had been unconsciously squeezed out of shape. In one corner was a tiny damp spot, nearly impossible to notice.
It was a mark left when his vision blurred a moment ago and he nearly put the ink mark in the wrong place.
Fear gnawed at his heart like a venomous snake.
Meanwhile, deep in the Senju Clan Compound.
Tobirama Senju stood before a massive laboratory table covered in complex Sealing Jutsu arrays and glass vessels. Some indescribable tissue samples were soaking inside the vessels. His gaze was focused and cold. In his hand, he held a specially made Kunai etched with the early runes of the Flying Thunder God Formula.
In a shadowed corner of the laboratory, several battered ninja tools bearing the Uchiha Gunbai crest seemed to be piled up.
He lifted his head and looked toward the Uchiha Clan. The corner of his mouth curled into a cold smile.
"Uchiha... how many more times can your Sharingan see through despair?"
The undercurrent had become palpable killing intent.
Whether a seed of light could survive on a sheer cliff as cracks spread remained unknown.
But the storm was certainly drawing ever closer.
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