As Gamamaru grew sleepy, everyone left the temple and strolled along the paths of Mount Myoboku.
Having watched the broadcast, Rikusei knew exactly who the Great Toad Sage meant by the variable. But he was skeptical about the claim that his precognitive abilities had disappeared.
After all, he knew the truth better than anyone. From any angle, the claim seemed like a pretext to get closer to Uchiha Madara.
Whether it was true or not...
At least, it was having the desired effect. Rikusei had been worrying about how to stop Madara from believing the one-sided account on the Uchiha Stone Tablet, and now, just as he'd been getting sleepy, someone had brought him a pillow.
The impact of the broadcast was far greater than the feeble, powerless words on the tablet. It was as if it had transported people bodily into that vast, desolate era.
"Drip."
A sparkling droplet slowly slid off the pointed tip of a towering lotus leaf. It caught the light of the setting sun and fell not far from Rikusei, interrupting his train of thought.
Fukasaku, who sat deftly behind Rikusei on his scroll, had fallen into deep thought over Madara's request.
Bathed in the setting sun, Madara waited a moment, then glanced at him and repeated, "Is it difficult to achieve the same results as Hashirama?"
"It really is difficult."
Fukasaku stuck out his tongue and swallowed an insect fluttering in the air, his voice somewhat muffled.
In his long life, he'd seen only a handful of Sage Modes as perfect as that one.
People's bodies differed, and those who trained in Senjutsu at Mount Myoboku either achieved an incomplete Sage Mode or failed and turned into stone frogs.
But he didn't dare say that outright. He stole a glance at the still-raised bump