Undercurrents stirred

Ryuto read Madara's reply once more, then tossed it onto the table.

"A deathmatch, two against two, in a month, at the Grand Canyon." He counted on his fingers. "All the ingredients are there. That old bastard Madara laid out the script pretty clearly."

"He's always been like that." Hashirama sat across from him, tapping his fingers on the table. "Either don't fight, or fight to the death. Saves arguments later."

"So we accept?" Ryuto looked up.

"Of course," Hashirama said. "After a challenge like that, wouldn't refusing make us look afraid? Besides, this really is the best approach right now."

He paused.

"But accepting is one thing. We need to think carefully about how to fight. Two against two doesn't simply mean you fight your opponent while I fight mine."

"I get it. Teamwork," Ryuto said. "We've never really fought together before. You're good at controlling the battlefield and covering a wide area, but you need some time to get started. I'm fast and have strong bursts of power, but I can't sustain them."

Hashirama's eyes lit up. "That's a pretty good summary. So when the time comes, I'll keep the battlefield under control and create openings for you. You find a gap and hit them hard."

"The key is taking Izuna down first," Ryuto said. "Madara's too tough to crack quickly. But Izuna... I reckon that even if Madara trains him to death this month, I'm still confident I can take him."

"Madara will definitely focus on protecting his brother," Hashirama said. "So we need to find a way to separate them, or force Madara to split his attention."

"Then we need to find somewhere to practice working together this month," Ryuto said. "Sitting here thinking won't help. We need hands-on practice."

"We leave tomorrow," Hashirama decided. "I know a place with terrain a little like the Grand Canyon. It has a waterfall and a deep pool, too. We'll go there and simulate actual combat."

"All right."

They discussed the finer details of their tactics for a while longer, until the oil in the lamp had nearly burned dry.

Hashirama stood. "Get some rest. We'll leave first thing tomorrow."

Ryuto nodded, then got up and headed for his own tent.

The night breeze blew past, a little chilly.

He reached his tent entrance and was about to lift the flap when he suddenly paused.

Frowning, he glanced back toward Hashirama's tent, then surveyed the quiet camp around him.

Just now... was there something there?

Ki Sense spread silently outward, sweeping through every corner of the camp like ripples across water.

Tents, campfires, sleeping shinobi, patrolling guards... everything was normal.

There were no unusual chakra fluctuations and no unfamiliar ki.

"Imagining things?" Ryuto muttered. He shook his head, lifted the flap, and went inside.

He was exhausted. There had been far too much information to take in that day.

Soon, steady breathing sounded inside the tent.

Outside the tent, beneath an old tree roughly a hundred meters from camp.

The shadows on the ground slowly rose as though coming alive, forming a blurry humanoid outline.

Black Zetsu.

Just a second before Ryuto's Ki Sense swept over him, he had completely merged into the shadows deep within the tree roots, even stopping his heartbeat-though he had never had one to begin with.

That was close... Black Zetsu muttered inwardly. This kid's sensing range has grown again, and it's even sharper now. I can't get too close.

He had been pressed against the shadows outside Hashirama's tent, listening to every word of Ryuto and Hashirama's conversation.

The time, location, rules, participants... he had it all.

In a month, at the Eastern Grand Canyon. A two-on-two deathmatch. Hashirama and Ryuto against Madara and Izuna, Black Zetsu reviewed in his mind. Perfect.

It was practically a stage tailor-made for him.

The two reincarnations of Indra and Asura, along with the greatest wildcard, Ryuto, fighting to the death in a remote location.

Whoever died, or if both sides suffered grievous losses, their hatred would immediately reach its peak.

But... it still wasn't enough.

Black Zetsu's body slowly sank underground, moving away from camp.

He needed more assurance.

That freak Ryuto was growing at an absurd rate. What if, a month from now, he really did kill Izuna instantly, then team up with Hashirama to pin Madara down two against one?

Wouldn't that ruin his plan?

Madara had to win, or at the very least, he and Hashirama had to fight until both were grievously wounded, with hatred too deep to resolve.

Ryuto had to die.

I need to spice things up, Black Zetsu thought as he traveled underground at tremendous speed. The four of them fighting alone won't be enough. Things need to get... a little more chaotic.

A plan gradually took shape in his thousand-year-old mind.

It would involve the Senju, Uchiha, Uzumaki, Hyūga... he could even drag in the Kaguya Clan, who had been lurking in the shadows, coveting the Uchiha's kekkei genkai.

Let everyone believe they were the hunter waiting to snatch another hunter's prey.

In reality, they were all pawns.

And he, Black Zetsu, was the one moving the pieces.

An hour later.

In an underground cave far from the Senju Camp.

It was a natural formation with a concealed entrance and a fairly spacious interior, where scrolls and miscellaneous objects were piled up.

This was one of the countless "safe houses" Black Zetsu maintained throughout the warring lands.

He seeped out of the wall, his body taking shape.

Without lighting a lamp, he walked straight to the back of the cave and dug several old scrolls out from beneath a pile of miscellaneous objects.

The scrolls were covered in dust, but their markings remained clearly visible.

One bore a fan, the Uchiha family crest.

One bore the Uzumaki Clan's crest.

Another bore the Hyuga Clan's crest.

The last had a less common design: crossed bones, the symbol of the Kaguya Clan.

Black Zetsu laid the four scrolls on the ground before him and sat cross-legged.

"On the Uchiha side, Madara only has eyes for Hashirama and Ryuto right now. He's left most clan affairs to Izuna and the other elders," Black Zetsu murmured to himself. "I can exploit that... spread some rumors, for instance, that the Senju Clan has stationed a large force in ambush at the battle site, intending to wipe out the Uchiha's core fighting strength in one stroke."

He picked up the scroll marked with a fan and set it aside.

"On the Senju side, Hashirama and Ryuto will leave camp for special training, leaving their internal defenses relatively thin. That fellow Tobirama is vigilant, but he isn't infallible. I can pose as Uchiha shinobi and carry out a few small harassment raids. No need for heavy casualties, just enough to convince the Senju further that the Uchiha intend to play dirty."

The scroll bearing the Senju crest was placed beside the fan scroll.

"The Uzumaki Clan..." Black Zetsu picked up the Uzumaki scroll. "Mito is Hashirama's fiancée, and the Uzumaki Clan is deeply tied to the Senju now. If they appear at the duel and Uchiha attack them... will Hashirama and Ryuto get distracted?"

His mouth twitched, the expression that barely qualified as a smile looking particularly sinister.

"The Hyuga Clan, those stubborn Byakugan fanatics, have always feared the Sharingan while refusing to concede its superiority. If I let them 'learn' that the Uchiha Clan is about to dominate the Shinobi World... will they be able to sit still? Besides, they've always coveted Ryuto's ki while remaining wary of it. This is a good opportunity for that, too."

He put down the Hyūga scroll.

"Finally, the Kaguya Clan." Black Zetsu picked up the scroll marked with bones. "Those battle maniacs have coveted the Uchiha's Sharingan for ages. If they 'accidentally' receive intelligence that Madara Uchiha and Hashirama Senju are about to grievously wound each other, and that the location is the Grand Canyon... wouldn't they want to swoop in and reap the spoils? What if they could seize a pair of Mangekyō Sharingan?"

The four scrolls were arranged in a circle.

Black Zetsu looked at the circle, very satisfied.

"A month is enough for me to deliver this 'information' to the right people through the appropriate channels."

"On the day of the final battle, at the Grand Canyon."

"On the surface, it'll be Hashirama and Ryuto's deathmatch against Madara and Izuna."

"Behind the scenes... the Uzumaki might come under attack, the Hyūga might intervene, and the Kaguya might launch a surprise attack. The entire battlefield will become a complete mess."

"And when everyone is blinded by bloodlust..." Black Zetsu's voice grew almost inaudible. "Ryuto, the greatest wildcard, will die 'accidentally' in the melee. Perhaps from a 'Kaguya' bone spike, perhaps from the 'Hyūga' Gentle Fist, or perhaps from an 'Uchiha' shuriken. Who will know?"

"Madara will think it's a Senju conspiracy, and Hashirama will think it's an Uchiha betrayal. Hatred will explode, and their fated showdown will spiral completely out of control, taking the bloodiest possible course."

"And all I need to do at the very end is give Madara a slight push... let him see this 'cruel world' clearly and make him even more determined to follow the path of pursuing absolute power."

Black Zetsu's body began sinking slowly, merging into the ground.

"The plan begins."

Silence returned to the cave.

Only the four scrolls still lay quietly on the ground.

Early the next morning.

Ryuto and Hashirama stood at the camp entrance.

Hashirama carried a small pack containing dry rations and a few necessities. Ryuto was empty-handed; everything he needed was already on him.

"Brother, are you really not taking anyone with you?" Tobirama Senju frowned. Hashirama had summoned him early that morning to give him instructions.

"No," Hashirama said. "More people mean more prying eyes. This special training will be just Ryuto and me. I'm leaving the camp to you. If the Uchiha make any unusual moves..."

"I know what to do," Tobirama interrupted, his expression cold. "Go without worrying. In a month, I'll bring people to the Grand Canyon to support you."

"Not to support us," Hashirama corrected. "To watch. Remember, unless there's absolutely no other choice, don't interfere. That's my agreement with Madara."

Tobirama snorted without answering, clearly unconvinced.

Hashirama said no more. He patted his younger brother on the shoulder, then looked at Ryuto.

"Let's go."

The two turned, disappearing into the woods outside camp in a few bounds.

Tobirama remained where he was, staring for a long time in the direction they had vanished.

Then he turned and ordered the Senju shinobi behind him, "Starting today, raise the camp's alert level to maximum. Double the patrols and strictly inspect everyone entering or leaving."

"Yes!"

At the same time, in the Uchiha Clan Compound.

Dust swirled over the training ground.

Uchiha Izuna was drenched in sweat, his soaked clothes clinging tightly to his body. He panted heavily, hands braced on his knees, barely able to stand.

Across from him, Madara Uchiha stood with his arms folded, spotless and not even sweating.

"Tired already?" Madara's voice betrayed no emotion. "It's only been six hours."

"B-Brother..." Izuna panted. "That's six hours of nonstop genjutsu casting and deflection. Isn't your training intensity... a little excessive?"

"Excessive?" Madara walked over. "That kid Ryuto is at least a good deal stronger than you now. Genjutsu is his greatest weakness. If you want to survive the deathmatch in a month, or even win, this level of training is only an appetizer."

Izuna gritted his teeth and straightened.

"I... I can do it!"

"Words alone are useless." Madara raised a hand and tossed Izuna two black metal wrist guards. "Put them on. Starting today, you're not allowed to take them off, even when eating or sleeping. I've added sealing jutsu inside. They'll continuously absorb your chakra and simulate triple gravity."

Izuna caught the wrist guards. Their weight dragged at his hands, and he nearly dropped them.

He struggled to put them on, then instantly felt as though his body had been filled with lead. Even raising his hands was difficult.

"Next, shuriken practice." Madara pointed at a row of targets in the distance. "Five hundred throws. Every throw must hit the bull's-eye. No using the Sharingan to predict the trajectory. Rely on physical feel alone."

Izuna's face went pale.

Five hundred? Under increased gravity, with my chakra constantly being absorbed?

But he said nothing. Gritting his teeth, he shuffled step by step to the edge of the training ground and picked up a shuriken.

His first throw was feeble, falling to the ground several meters short of the target.

Without even looking, Madara turned and walked over to sit in the shade of a tree beside the training ground, closing his eyes.

"Continue."

Izuna drew a deep breath and picked up a second shuriken.

Sweat dripped from his chin, striking the dust.

The Senju Clan and the Uchiha Clan, the two strongest clans of the warring era, simultaneously entered tense preparations for the coming deathmatch.

On the surface, everything looked peaceful.

But beneath it, invisible undercurrents had already begun to stir.

Reports of uncertain truth began circulating among minor clans and wandering shinobi.

Some said Hashirama Senju was actually afraid of Madara Uchiha, and had proposed single combat so he could resort to underhanded tricks.

Some said Madara Uchiha had secretly allied with the Kaguya Clan and planned to stab the Senju in the back during the final battle.

Others said the mysterious powerhouse called Ryuto actually possessed a forbidden jutsu capable of devouring kekkei genkai, and that the Hyuga Clan was secretly investigating him.

Rumors swept like the wind through every corner of the warring lands.

And the source of it all, the shadow hidden deepest in the darkness, waited quietly.

Waiting for the "deathmatch" a month from now, destined to change the balance of the entire Shinobi World.

And for the "accident" he had so carefully planned.