Seed of Faint Light and the Beginning of the Rift

Ever since the successful "guidance" of Kagami Uchiha at the training grounds that day, Uchiha Sou had become more focused on this low-risk, high-efficiency method that combined "Weaving Logic" with "Guidance."

He maintained his low profile, spending most of his time on "Inner Seeking," consolidating the harmonious internal fluctuations and polishing them until they were increasingly fluid and natural. His control over his own power grew more refined; although the total volume of his Chakra and the strength of his mental energy grew slowly, their quality was constantly improving. Like steel tempered a hundred times, they possessed far more resilience and power than the same amount of ordinary Chakra.

Occasionally, he would walk through the clan grounds, seemingly aimless, but in reality, he was observing the younger generation of the clan.

He no longer offered direct pointers, choosing instead more subtle methods. Sometimes, while sparring, he would deliberately circulate his Chakra to demonstrate a highly efficient and stable flow pattern; other times, when discussing Ninjutsu, he would "accidentally" mention a key point in Chakra control; at other times, he would simply sit quietly to the side, radiating his "Inner Seeking" harmonious fluctuations in an extremely faint manner, like a silent domain that subtly influenced the moods and states of those around him, making it easier for them to calm their minds and gain insights into themselves.

This influence was silent and imperceptible, and the effects were not immediate, but Uchiha Sou could feel that among the still-immature Chakra fluctuations within the clan grounds, a few strands were becoming more solid and orderly. Among them, the boy named Kagami Uchiha was the most obvious. His rate of progress had clearly accelerated; although he was not yet at the top, his foundation was exceptionally solid, his control over Chakra far exceeded his peers, and there was a newfound calmness and contemplation in his eyes.

These tiny changes were like dropping a few grains of sand into a surging, dark river. They could not stir up any waves, but perhaps, at some point in the future, they would become an imperceptible, stable fulcrum at the bottom of the riverbed.

The world's sense of rejection did not descend because of this. This verified Tsang's guess: this indirect guidance, which did not directly interfere with fate but only provided "possibilities" and "methods," was permitted—or perhaps, it was simply ignored.

However, the overall atmosphere of the clan grounds did not ease because of this slight trend toward improvement; instead, it became increasingly oppressive.

Uchiha Madara's injuries remained recurrent. The runes left behind by Tobirama Senju were viciously abnormal, eroding like living things and even attempting to contaminate Madara's Dojutsu Power. Madara spent most of his time in a dangerous internal struggle against this force, and his temper had become increasingly gloomy and unpredictable; occasionally, the aura emanating from his secret chamber was enough to make one's heart palpitate. The strongest pillar of the Uchiha clan was temporarily pinned firmly to his sickbed.

All the pressure fell squarely onto the shoulders of Izuna Uchiha.

The use of the Mangekyo Sharingan became more and more frequent, a frequency so high that it made Uchiha Sou feel a sense of dread. The light in Izuna's eyes was dimming at a speed visible to the naked eye; he began to hold scrolls further away when reading them, and he would occasionally experience extremely brief misjudgments during combat—a fatal signal for an Uchiha who relied on top-tier dynamic vision.

The medicinal oil Tsang had sent seemed to have had a negligible effect; at least Izuna no longer suffered from severe headaches due to the overuse of his Dojutsu Power. But this was merely a drop in the bucket. Izuna had become more reticent, his face perpetually pale, with only those eyes—gradually losing their focus—burning with an increasingly paranoid and resolute flame.

He could not fall, for that would cause the Uchiha to lose their only Mangekyo combatant, and he certainly could not allow his brother's years of hard work and the pride of the Uchiha to be buried by his own hands. This immense pressure and the fear of blindness were pushing him toward his limit, step by step.

On this day, Izuna summoned several high-ranking elders and elite Jonin of the clan, and Tsang was among them.

The atmosphere in the secret chamber was so heavy it was almost suffocating. Izuna sat at the head of the table, his fingers tapping unconsciously against the surface, his eyes sweeping over the crowd with a cold, scrutinizing gaze.

"Tobirama Senju..." he began, his voice hoarse and filled with hatred, "his recent range of activity has once again approached several important mineral veins in the southwest of our territory. The garrison there has already lost three squads, all of whom died from a strange, never-before-seen curse that triggers internal explosions."

An elder's face turned ashen: "Another one of Tobirama's new tricks! His research into forbidden arts has absolutely no bottom line!"

"Bottom line?" Izuna sneered, the Three Tomoe slowly appearing in his eyes with a hint of mockery, "In the face of victory, what is a bottom line worth? My brother is seriously injured, our clan's high-end combat power is restricted, and with Hashirama Senju holding the rear, Tobirama alone, relying on those bizarre forbidden arts, has kept our clan exhausted and struggling to cope!"

He paused, his gaze becoming sharper: "We cannot sit and wait for death. We must find out exactly what Tobirama is researching, where his laboratory is, and what the source of those forbidden arts is!"

"What does Lord Izuna mean?" another elite Jonin asked.

"Send an elite reconnaissance squad deep into the heart of the Senju territory. At any cost, obtain intelligence on Tobirama's laboratory." Izuna's voice was decisive, carrying the weight of a desperate gamble, "If necessary, use extreme measures: capture Senju researchers, or... steal their experimental data."

Once these words were spoken, the atmosphere in the secret chamber became even heavier. Going deep into the Senju heartland with the target set on Tobirama Senju was no different from pulling teeth from a tiger's mouth; the success rate was extremely low, and it would inevitably be accompanied by huge sacrifices.

"Lord Izuna, is this move too risky?" a relatively elderly elder hesitated, "Tobirama is cunning and suspicious; his laboratory must be heavily guarded. If we fail..."

"Fail?" Izuna interrupted him, his voice rising sharply with an irrepressible irritability and ruthlessness, "Do you think we aren't failing now? Watching our clansmen die one by one from those inexplicable forbidden arts! Watching our territory being nibbled away bit by bit! By the time Tobirama researches something even more terrifying, and by the time Hashirama Senju fully masters that inhuman power, we won't even have the chance to take a risk!"

He stood up abruptly. Because of his emotional agitation, the Three Tomoe in his eyes spun wildly, his vision seemed to blur for a moment, and he subconsciously steadied himself against the edge of the table.

Everyone noticed this subtle movement, and the air in the secret chamber seemed to freeze.

Uchiha Sou's heart sank. Izuna's condition had deteriorated to the point where even emotional fluctuations affected his vision.

Izuna took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his discomfort, and his gaze turned cold and firm once more as he swept it over everyone present: "This is an order. The Uchiha have not yet weakened to the point where we need to be timid! For the sake of the clan, necessary sacrifices are unavoidable! Go and select your men immediately; I want the elites best at stealth and reconnaissance!"

The order was given, and no one dared to argue further.

After the meeting, everyone left with heavy hearts. Uchiha Sou walked at the back; he could feel the desperate, all-or-nothing resolve emanating from Izuna.

He knew that regardless of whether this operation succeeded or not, it would inevitably further intensify the hatred between the two clans and lead to more bloodshed. And Izuna's vision, he feared, could not withstand another high-intensity use of the Mangekyo.

He returned to his quarters and remained silent for a long time.

The wheels of history continued to roll forward along their original tracks, carrying the scent of blood and destruction. The tiny "lights" he had planted seemed so small and powerless in the face of this immense darkness.

What could he do? Risk interfering again? His targets were Tobirama Senju and Izuna Uchiha, the two absolute core figures; the causality involved would be enough to instantly reduce him to ash.

He closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into the harmonious realm of "Inner Seeking" within his body.

The accumulation of power was still too slow, far too slow.

A few days later, a reconnaissance squad consisting of five elite Uchiha Jonin quietly left the clan grounds under the cover of night, like water droplets merging into the sea, sneaking toward the area controlled by the Senju clan.

Izuna Uchiha stood on a watchtower, looking out into the direction where they had disappeared. The night wind blew the hair on his forehead, revealing a pair of Sharingan that flickered with a cold and fearful light in the darkness.

The intelligence scroll in his hand was unconsciously crumpled out of shape. In the corner of the scroll, there was an extremely tiny, almost imperceptible wet spot.

That was the mark left behind when his vision blurred earlier, causing him to nearly place a drop of ink in the wrong position.

Fear, like a venomous snake, gnawed at his heart.

Meanwhile, deep within the Senju clan grounds.

Tobirama Senju stood before a massive laboratory bench covered in complex sealing formulas and glass vessels, in which indescribable tissue samples were soaking. His eyes were focused and cold, and in his hand, he held a specially crafted Kunai, its surface engraved with the initial runes of the Flying Thunder God technique.

In the shadows of the laboratory corner, some broken ninja tools bearing the Uchiha Gunbai crest seemed to be piled up.

He looked up toward the direction of the Uchiha clan, the corners of his mouth curling into a cold arc.

"Uchiha... how many more times can your Sharingan see through despair?"

The undercurrent had already turned into tangible killing intent.

Whether the seeds of light could survive on the cliffside where cracks were spreading remained unknown.

But the storm was, indeed, drawing ever closer.