Dusk fell, and the setting sun stained the entire sky over the Land of Iron red. Orange-red light blanketed the battlefield, painting the ravaged ground crimson. A cold wind began to rise, sweeping up loose stones and dust with a mournful howl, yet it could not dispel the unbearable tension hanging over the battlefield.
Madara slowly flew out of the deep crater. Several of his eyes had been permanently blinded. Only his remaining right eye, the Rinne Sharingan, still shone scarlet, but deep within it lurked a trace of fear he could no longer conceal.
The flames of Ryūjin Jakka in that last strike had scorched his soul. Even though he had activated Izanagi and rewritten the reality of his grievous physical injuries, the burning deep within his soul had not faded. Instead, it grew ever more distinct.
He finally realized that Izanagi was not all-powerful. This forbidden technique could only rewrite physical reality; it could not undo injuries to the soul or to causality.
And Chiya's attacks had already reached that level.
Madara's body trembled uncontrollably. Utter terror replaced his earlier frenzy. He had lived for nearly a century, fought Hashirama Senju his entire life, entered Six Paths Mode, and become the Ten-Tails Jinchuriki, yet this was the first time he had felt the threat of death so clearly.
But he had no way out.
He was Madara Uchiha. He could not retreat, and there was nowhere left to retreat to.
Madara gritted his teeth, his remaining right Rinne Sharingan spinning wildly. He activated Izanagi again, forcibly suppressing the burning deep within his soul and restoring his body to its peak condition. This time, the price was the sight of his last spare Sharingan.
He had no spare Sharingan left with which to activate Izanagi again.
This was his