Not Every Heart Snatcher Is Black Zetsu

The battle had lasted a day and a night.

Torrential rain poured down over the two men.

The battlefield had returned to the Valley of the End, where it had all begun.

Hashirama's left arm hung limply at his side, the burn marks clearly visible as fresh flesh slowly replaced the dead skin.

After fighting to this point—

Even Seal-less Healing had become drastically less effective.

Madara Uchiha appeared to be in better condition, with only the corners of his clothes slightly dirtied. However, the Mangekyō Sharingan in his eyes had vanished. He could not even activate his Sharingan anymore, leaving only a pair of ordinary black eyes.

The two gods of shinobi had gone from an initial clash of ninjutsu to a contest of taijutsu.

Both were at the end of their strength...

It was the first time Madara had seen Hashirama so weakened. Raising his war fan and sickle, he charged across the water.

His blade rose and fell.

In the instant their figures crossed, Hashirama Senju, the invincible god of shinobi, fell into the water.

With his back to him, Madara glanced sideways at the fallen man. "I'm the one standing now, the exact opposite of the first time."

"Hashirama, you've grown stronger over these seven years, but I've become even stronger than you."

"The facts prove that I was right, and you were wrong."

Pfft—!

The moment Madara Uchiha finished speaking—

A cold flash streaked past without warning.

The icy sensation unique to metal pierced through his left chest.

The dull sound of a blade entering flesh mingled with spurting blood as a bewitching crimson flower bloomed across his blue robe.

Madara Uchiha's pupils trembled violently, and an incredulous groan spilled from his throat.

Drip...

Blood trickled down the blade's tip as Madara Uchiha painfully turned