Moonlight shone on flags snapping in the night wind. On their black backgrounds, a bright yellow crescent moon swallowed a sphere—though it was hard to tell whether the sphere was the moon or the blue planet beyond this space.
The flags unfurling in the wind made their identity clear: they were members of the Otsutsuki Branch Family.
Seated atop a flying Puppet shaped like a bird, Rikusei looked down at the two armies below. Their orderly ranks stood tightly packed, carrying the air of ancient aristocratic forces. It was hard to believe this was a war between direct descendants of Hamura Otsutsuki.
The ground drew closer. The wooden wings, their surfaces covered in feathers, beat more slowly as the bird began to descend, finally landing in an open area beyond the two opposing armies.
"Thud!"
Rikusei watched as Cang Lu leaped down first, his landing kicking up a cloud of dust.
"Thud, thud, thud!"
Cang Lu's arrival set off thunderous drums from both sides. Their pounding rang through the air like a sudden downpour, and if one listened closely, one could hear the deep, rousing chants mixed in with the beat.
The hubbub stirred Rikusei's heart. He instantly straightened, his blood surging, and gazed at Madara with blazing eyes. He decisively removed the scroll and handed it to him. "Our enemies are blind. They can't dance through the air like falling leaves."
"How boring."
Madara, seated on the bird's back, looked away. He could clearly see the bandages wrapped around their eyes. Bracing the scroll upright beside him with one hand, he gave a cold snort.
Then his gaze sharpened as chakra surged toward his eyes. The Three-Tomoe Sharingan turned slowly in his irises. He surveyed the platform standing amid the crowd and fixed his eyes on the sphere containing