Nine-Tails, I Need Your Help to Cultivate!

Uchiha Yoru answered every question Nara Kashima raised one by one, his tone flat and his expression indifferent, as if what he were deciding before him was not the fate of a nation, but merely a trivial, insignificant matter.

"As for the Daimyo of the Land of Fire," he lifted his hand casually, his voice calm yet imbued with an irresistible pressure, "let the Anbu and my shadow clone make the trip."

Before the words had even faded, he rotated his palm, and chakra instantly condensed into a human figure.

The clone stood in the room, its form translucent, its eyes like mirrors—calm and unruffled, yet harboring a hidden murderous intent, as if ready at any moment to embark on a path of conquest.

Uchiha Yoru tilted his head slightly, his Sharingan rotating slowly, the three-tomoe tracing a chilling crimson trajectory.

"Kashima." He called out softly; the volume was low, yet it made Nara Kashima's expression tighten.

"Dispatch a portion of your Nara Clan members to infiltrate the squad."

"The moment the Daimyo of the Land of Fire dies, take over the administration immediately. Leave no gaps."

At this point, he paused, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile that blended mockery with cruelty, the cold glint in his eyes sharp as a blade.

"If there is any resistance during the process—"

"Kill without exception."

The tone was as calm as if he were merely stating the weather, yet it sent a chill down Kashima's spine.

The Daimyo of the Land of Fire? The Twelve Guardian Ninja? To Uchiha Yoru, these names were like a gust of outdated wind, carrying no weight at all.

That guardian ninja known as "Chiriku," though capable of manifesting a giant technique resembling a miniature "Top-Transformed Buddha," was not worth mentioning in the face of Uchiha Yoru's ocular power and overwhelming chakra.

Even a mere clone was enough to crush any possible variables.

Just as the clone stepped out of the room, a name suddenly surfaced in Uchiha Yoru's mind—

Sarutobi Asuma.

That night, the Sarutobi Clan had been completely wiped out under his thunderous methods. Only this son of the Third Hokage had managed to escape by chance, as he had been away on a mission.

He had not originally taken this person to heart, but since the aftermath had already been cleared, how could he allow any embers to remain in this world?

"Issue a wanted order."

Uchiha Yoru stood with his hands behind his back, gazing out the window, his tone calm to the point of coldness.

"Sarutobi Asuma, Konoha rogue ninja, kill on sight."

In this ninja world where strength is king, mercy means weakness, and failure deserves only destruction.

"The winner takes all, the loser is exterminated."

Every word was cold enough to make one tremble.

Nara Kashima was slightly stunned, then lowered his head in submission, his peripheral vision quietly sweeping over Uchiha Yoru's silhouette.

That tall figure seemed to melt into the shadows, possessing an inherent authority that made one almost forget his age—

This was a Hokage who brooked no doubt.

A monarch who could calmly plan coups, assassinations, and the slaughter of entire clans.

Kashima's heart sank slightly, but he could only bow his head and say respectfully: "This subordinate understands."

He then turned and left, his pace swift yet daring not to show a hint of impatience—any flaw would be laid bare under those Sharingan eyes.

Uchiha Yoru, acting as if nothing had happened, stepped out of the Hokage office, passed through the bustle of the Konoha streets, and entered a secluded alleyway.

There stood a dilapidated, shabby apartment.

It was also—

Uzumaki Naruto's home.

"BANG!!"

The wooden door shattered under a single kick, the door panel slamming against the wall with a deafening crash; wood splinters and dust flew, instantly jolting the entire cramped room awake.

Naruto sat up abruptly on his bed, his blond hair disheveled, his eyes still clouded with lingering sleepiness and confusion.

"Who... who are you?!"

He tried to push himself up from the bed, but his gaze froze the moment he saw the figure at the door.

Against the backlight, a tall, upright figure slowly stepped inside; the footsteps were unhurried, yet each one landed like a heavy hammer, striking at Naruto's spirit.

Those blood-red eyes emerged quietly, the Sharingan rotating slowly, the tomoe staring at Naruto like a whirlpool.

Uchiha Yoru did not answer.

He did not even spare Naruto a second glance, but simply raised a hand, chakra surging at his fingertips, and released a mental shock that appeared invisible yet surged forth like a tsunami.

In an instant—

Naruto's consciousness collapsed, the world spun violently, and darkness swallowed him like a tide.

The next moment, damp, cold air rushed toward him.

He "stood" in that familiar and terrifying mental world—before that seal cage sleeping deep within his heart.

Corrosive water pooled over his feet, the iron gate of the seal stood towering and tall, the dense, intricate curse marks upon it glowing faintly and trembling subtly.

Behind that gate, a pair of blood-red beastly pupils were staring fixedly ahead, filled with vigilance and... instinctive terror.

"Who are you..."

The Nine-Tails spoke slowly, its massive body curling slightly backward as its spike-covered tails swayed instinctively.

It was not the first time it had encountered a member of the Uchiha clan; the suppression of the Sharingan was something it had long grown accustomed to.

But this time was different.

From the moment that person stepped into Naruto's mental world, it had felt a pressure that made it tremble.

It was not an ordinary Sharingan.

Nor was it the chakra of Madara or Obito.

--It was something more ancient, more primal, something that made its very soul run cold.

"This chakra..."

The Nine-Tails' pupils constricted, its voice carrying a trace of terror and uncertainty that was difficult to conceal.

"Impossible... are you--Indra?!"

Its voice echoed throughout the sealing space, laced with deep unease.

As one of the first tailed beasts created by the Sage of Six Paths, the Nine-Tails had lived too long and seen too much.

And the chakra fluctuations of the Sage of Six Paths' two sons--Ashura and Indra--had long been deeply branded into its memory.

It clearly remembered that war between brothers, capable of destroying the world, which had once made the entire continent tremble.

If Ashura's chakra was like a surging river, heavy and inclusive, then Indra's chakra was like boundless thunder, destroying everything and suppressing everything.

"But Indra... didn't he die a long time ago?!"

The Nine-Tails' fur stood on end, rage and fear intertwining as its entire body tensed up like it was facing a formidable enemy.

While emitting a low growl, it stared fixedly at the figure slowly approaching the iron sealing gate.

That person's eyes were scarlet, the Sharingan rotating with an eerie light in the darkness.

His figure seemed to overlap with the Indra of the past.

"Who... exactly are you?"

The Nine-Tails roared, yet it retreated subconsciously.

Uchiha Yoru finally stopped, standing before the iron sealing gate, gazing quietly into the Nine-Tails' scarlet eyes.

He neither denied it nor offered an explanation, merely curling his lips into a meaningful smile.

His Sharingan rotated silently, his pupils blooming with astonishing light, causing the entire mental world to vibrate; the seals on the gate emitted a blinding glow, as if they might collapse at any moment!

The Nine-Tails trembled violently, a low growl of unwillingness yet submission rumbling in its throat.

That overwhelming chakra felt as if it could crush its very will!

Uchiha Yoru slowly reached out, pointing his index finger at the Nine-Tails' massive beastly head.

"Nine-Tails."

"I require your aid in my cultivation!!!"