"What do you mean, trouble?"
Obito frowned slightly as he turned toward the aged figure of Uchiha Madara.
He'd been in this underground hideout for quite some time now. And until this moment, Madara had always seemed completely unshakable—untouchable. Like the entire world danced in the palm of his hand.
Hearing the word "trouble" from someone like him? That was a first.
Obito's expression darkened, recalling the frozen hellscape that had overtaken Higashimatsuyama.
"You're saying this Yuki Yoru is dangerous even to you? Don't tell me… he's reached a level comparable to yours—or even the First Hokage?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Madara scoffed, weak but still visibly proud.
"If he couldn't even hold off the Flying Thunder God or the Nine-Tails Jinchūriki, and had to retreat, how could he ever compare to me or Hashirama?"
This was the unwavering confidence of a man who had ended the Warring States Era.
In his prime, Madara was certain—he could've cut down someone like Yoru in a single swing of his Susanoo.
But now… he was a shadow of his former self. Barely clinging to life. If he left the Gedo Statue's support for even a moment, he might collapse entirely.
"Still, while that boy may not be on my level," Madara said, "he is an exceptional talent among the younger generation. According to White Zetsu, he's developed an ability to consume the souls of those he kills—and grow stronger with each one."
"Soul-devouring?!"
Even Obito, hardened as he was, struggled to hide his discomfort.
"Exactly. So what you saw at Higashimatsuyama may not be his peak… but just the beginning."
Madara's voice grew heavy.
"But even that kind of power has limits. In this world, true power comes from uniting all things—what the sages called the power of all creation."
"What… what do you mean?"
Madara's voice became low and deliberate.
"A god once sought peace and order. To do so, he split existence into yin and yang—two opposites in eternal balance. That harmony… is what gave birth to all creation."
"You carry the blood of both Senju and Uchiha. You may not yet wield the true power of creation, but you already possess the foundation of it."
"Still… it's too early. For now, focus on mastering the basics: Uchiha ninjutsu, taijutsu, the Sharingan's deeper potential, Wood Release—and eventually, Yin–Yang Release, which transcends the five nature transformations."
"I know all that!"
Obito grunted, annoyed. "I will learn it. But what if your body doesn't last that long?!"
"Fool."
Madara raised his head. His three-tomoe Sharingan spun slowly.
In that moment, the air itself changed.
The color drained from the world, replaced by the eerie aura of a god's presence.
Time itself seemed to twist around him.
For an instant, Obito wasn't looking at an old man—but at the demon who once ruled the battlefield like a storm.
"For us, time is meaningless," Madara said.
"What matters is your resolve, Obito."
"If you truly intend to change the world… if you truly wish to inherit my name, Uchiha Madara, then show me the fire in your heart!"
Meanwhile…
The shimmering light of the Reverse Barrier faded.
Yoru and Hiromi reappeared in a remote mountain valley.
Waiting for them were Terumi Mei, Fuyuna Yukiko and several other shinobi who had followed Yoru's earlier warning and evacuated before the Tailed Beast Bomb devastated Kirigakure's camp.
They had barely escaped.
If they'd waited even minutes longer, they would've been consumed by the blast.
Now, the survivors had regrouped here, and begun establishing a new forward base—though with barely a few dozen left, it was a ghost of a unit.
"Yoru!"
"Lord Yoru!"
They rushed over, expressions a mixture of relief and excitement.
They had faith in him—but he had still walked alone into the heart of Konoha's main camp, facing the Yellow Flash and the Nine-Tails.
The fact that he returned alive… was near-miraculous.
Of course, curiosity burned in all their eyes.
What had become of the Konoha base?
"Frozen solid, obviously!"
Hiromi beamed with pride, as if she had won the battle herself.
"He took out the whole camp singlehandedly!" she declared, puffing up her chest. "Lord Yoru absolutely crushed them!"
The others leaned in, eager to hear more.
Hiromi didn't disappoint—she launched into a dramatic retelling, full of action and flair, exaggerating for effect like a seasoned bard. According to her, Namikaze Minato and the Nine-Tails looked like scolded puppies next to Yoru's overwhelming power.
Her storytelling bordered on ridiculous.
The sky turned dark with a wave of his hand.
Winter itself descended.
He casually shrugged off a Tailed Beast Bomb.
Cut Minato down in a single swing.
Even the Sage of Six Paths would've blushed.
Yoru, listening to this glorified performance, cleared his throat awkwardly.
Even he felt embarrassed.
"What's the plan now, Yoru?"
Terumi Mei's voice was soft, but serious.
"The camps are gone. Lord Yagura has ordered a full withdrawal back to the village. What about you?"
"If the general's pulling back, what can I do?" Yoru shrugged with a light laugh.
"Besides, if we let those senile elders keep making reckless decisions, it won't just be a stalemate with Konoha—we'll be homeless."
The joke landed… but no one laughed.
Instead, the room turned solemn.
Because they knew he was right.
Everyone here understood:
This war had exposed the incompetence—or worse, intentional sabotage—by Kirigakure's current leadership.
If not for Yoru, the war might've already ended with Kirigakure's complete collapse.
"You've made your decision, haven't you, Yoru?" Mei asked, her gaze sharp.
"Decision?" Yoru tilted his head. "There's no need for something so formal."
"This is Kirigakure. Strength rules here."
"It may sound arrogant, but… the Third Mizukage is a fossil. Yagura's a stubborn fool. If anyone's going to lead this village to a better future—"
"It's me."
His words were calm.
But the arrogance in them was undeniable.
And yet, no one objected.
No one doubted him.
Only fierce, unwavering loyalty remained.
Because he had already proven everything—
on the battlefield.