Naruto: About the Fact That my Brother is Madara-Chapter 271: Eighteen Years Have Made Me a Better Man

Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through his eyes, and Kyōsuke instinctively furrowed his brows. It was a sensation he recognized all too well—a familiar warning that signaled the toll of overusing his ocular powers.

Whether it be the Eternal Mangekyō or the Rinnegan, neither granted infinite power. Though they offered far greater endurance and a higher threshold than ordinary eyes, their power was not infinite. Once depleted, their energy still required time to recover.

Jumping back and forth through the timeline consumed far more chakra and energy than Sasuke's Amenotejikara or Madara's Limbo. The cost was immense.

In his current condition, Kyōsuke estimated that he could use the technique no more than three times during this battle. Any more, and the Rinnegan would forcibly shut down.

"Hahahahaha! Now you see how powerful I truly am, don't you?" Urashiki's arrogance showed in the smug grin plastered across his face.

Clearly, this opponent lacked a true understanding of the Ōtsutsuki clan. Most likely, he was a descendant of that bitch, Kaguya.

Much like that other man who had once guarded the seal.

The "Karma" of the Ōtsutsuki, and most of their ocular jutsus, were designed to respond primarily to changes in chakra nature.

In other words, naturally occurring fire, such as the one Urashiki wielded, could not be absorbed by the Ōtsutsuki unless their ability specifically revolved around restriction-based powers.

His red fish basket and hook were not of divine origin but rather high-level products of some advanced technological civilization. Even beings as cold and indifferent as the Ōtsutsuki weren't without their loyal servant races that catered to their needs.

Otherwise, how else could the world have witnessed the emergence of foreign phenomena such as Karma seals or Divine Trees?

By chance, Urashiki had once visited a small planet that burned endlessly, and from that desolate world, he obtained a sufficient quantity of naturally generated flames.

These flames were useless against most ordinary foes. But for tricking ignorant and inexperienced enemies like Kyōsuke, they were more than effective.

Kyōsuke suddenly shook his head and sighed, his gaze filled with reluctant regret.

"I actually found you quite interesting at first. I even considered recruiting you to join me in taking on the Ōtsutsuki's Law Enforcer Corps."

"So why must you insist on seeking death?"

His eyes remained fixed on the red-glowing fish basket, a curious glint in his gaze. He was already wondering whether Yayoi could replicate such a device.

But she was primarily versed in biology. Even with a full grasp of scientific ninja tools, her knowledge might stretch into theoretical energy physics at best.

What academic field would this fish basket fall under, anyway?

It didn't matter. Either way, Yayoi couldn't possibly be an expert in it, which meant that acquiring the relevant research data would cost a huge fortune.

Naturally, this expense should be charged to Urashiki. After all, if not for him, Kyōsuke would never have been tempted to steal Ōtsutsuki technology in the first place.

That was exactly why he sighed. He was about to lose a potentially useful "companion."

In the next instant, a brilliant golden gleam erupted from the depths of Kyōsuke's purple eyes. At the same time, a Truth-Seeking Orb morphed into a spear and pierced clean through Urashiki's body.

Sukunabikona!

"Compared to that man, your power is truly lacking," Kyōsuke said coldly.

Ōtsutsuki Isshiki was a warrior who had reached the threshold of godhood through divine fire. His body, in a sense, had transcended mortality and approached the very essence of a deity. His regenerative capabilities and resistance to damage were leagues above any standard Six Paths-level existence.

Defeating Isshiki had forced Kyōsuke to risk everything. His deepest secrets, every trump card he possessed, even his own life. Only then had he secured a narrow and hard-fought victory.

The truth was, if Isshiki had simply decided to destroy the Earth outright, the number of casualties would have been unimaginable.

But in the end, it was that insidious mindset, his belief that all others were nothing more than livestock, that led to his downfall when three desperate shinobi chose to defy fate and stand together.

Urashiki, by comparison, was nothing impressive. Even if one discounted the innate suppression brought by Kyōsuke's abilities, his true strength barely reached the upper tiers of the Six Paths level.

Had Madara and Hashirama from the Final Battle Day been present, either one could have defeated him alone with little difficulty. Let alone Kyōsuke, who now possessed the Rinnegan and had inherited ocular powers from Isshiki himself.

"Oh, right. I almost forgot. You can't die just yet."

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As if recalling something important, Kyōsuke's killing blow suddenly slowed.

Isshiki had needed nourishment because his juvenile Ten-Tails required a constant supply of energy. Now that the enemy was down, the creature that had accompanied him naturally became Kyōsuke's spoil of war.

This loud-mouthed and ultimately weak Urashiki? What better gift to offer the newborn Ten-Tails?

"I hope it likes this present from its new stepfather," Kyōsuke muttered with a dark smile.

Not giving Urashiki a chance to consume his Rinnegan or fight back, Kyōsuke darted forward at lightning speed. In a single fluid motion, he severed all of Urashiki's limbs.

Once he had sealed the enemy's chakra completely with shrunken black rods, Kyōsuke finally allowed himself a breath of relief.

Tossing the limbless captive toward Yayoi like one might hand over a broken tool, Kyōsuke chuckled and said, "Study it for a few days. After that, I'll be taking him back."

"Don't worry. I promise to return a living Ōtsutsuki to you," Yayoi replied, grinning back with ease.

As for what Urashiki might be thinking right now... who cared?

The two of them made their way to a nearby ruined structure and sat down, while Yayoi began recounting the recent developments in the shinobi world.

"So it's been eighteen years already?" Kyōsuke murmured softly, eyes distant with nostalgia.

In terms of actual age, he was now a forty-five-year-old man. Well past the prime of youth, more than qualified to be called an aging uncle.

Even that brat Haruto was nearing thirty now. Word was he even had a daughter—a particularly adorable one.

"Her name is Uchiha Kaoru, right? I never thought I would become a grandfather," Kyōsuke said with a warm smile. Yet in his eyes, the flames of longing burned fierce and unrelenting.

All these years... Had everyone been doing well?

The contingencies he had left behind should have been enough to protect the village.

As long as the village remained safe, the people he cherished would be unharmed.

Still, without him there, there must have been moments when they felt lonely, no matter how strong they pretended to be.

Only after Kyōsuke gradually freed himself from the emotions stirred by longing did Yayoi continue describing the changes the village had undergone in his absence.

When she mentioned Hashirama's death, a faint sigh escaped Kyōsuke's lips.

"Speaking of it," Kyōsuke murmured, voice laced with regret, "I suppose I was never truly a good friend to him."

"When I return this time, I must ensure that Tobirama is sent to accompany him. That... is perhaps the only thing I can still do for him as an old friend."

"..."

Yayoi found herself speechless. What could she possibly say in response to such a sentiment? In a strange and twisted way, she almost felt relieved that she had never shared a friendship with Lord Kyōsuke. Friendship with him seemed to carry a terrible weight.

The death of Hashirama had clearly touched something deep within Kyōsuke. He was not unaffected. After all, family and children were matters of great importance.

But everything else—Ninshū, the Senju—they no longer held meaning in his heart. To him, they had become little more than irrelevant actors on a stage long past its prime.

Once he subdued the Ten-Tails, he fully intended to visit Shikkotsu Forest. That gargantuan slug would make for an extraordinary feast, one worthy of satisfying the hunger of the young Ten-Tails. He had no doubt it would delight in such a banquet.

While he was at it, he might as well uproot the remnants of Ninshū from the world entirely.

For now, however, a more pressing matter loomed before him—the urgent need to locate both Momoshiki and Kaguya, who had escaped her ancient seal.

During the earlier battle, he had already sensed the hollowness of the barrier. It was no longer firm, no longer whole. That alone was proof that Kaguya had broken free from the seal left behind by the Sage of Six Paths.

People often remembered Kaguya as soft-spoken, simple-minded, a gentle fool with an unquenchable appetite. But that was only because she had been shackled and stripped of her freedom.

Now, though her chakra reserves were not yet fully restored, and despite lacking the Ten-Tails' augmentation, her body remained immortal.

The divine flame still burned within her. So long as it endured, no wound, no matter how grievous, could bring her down. She would always rise again.

Of course, to possess the divine flame was not to be invincible. If that were the case, Kaguya would have had no need to fear the judgment of her own kin.

To slay one who has consumed the chakra fruit—to destroy a being of that level—one must wield a power equal to theirs. Only one who also bears the divine flame can hope to annihilate such a divine vessel.

To many intelligent lifeforms scattered across the universe, the Ōtsutsuki who had awakened the divine flame were the very embodiment of what mortals might call gods.

They could bend time, traverse dimensions, command wind, fire, lightning, and earth, even manipulate gravity and direction itself. These were not the tools of mortals. They were powers of the divine.

It was precisely because of this that factions like Saint Sanctuary emerged, faiths built entirely around the divine authority of such beings, seeking to control civilizations through doctrines of godhood.

Perhaps Kaguya no longer possessed the strength to destroy the entire shinobi world. But if her goal was to plunge it into chaos, nothing short of the Sage of Six Paths and his brother returning together could stop her. Not even Madara or Hashirama, were they still alive, would be enough.

"This woman... she's truly a troublesome one," Kyōsuke sighed once more, though he had long lost count of how many times he had uttered those very words.

For now, both Kaguya and Momoshiki had become immediate threats. They required swift resolution. Everything else could be set aside for the time being.

Take, for instance, that inherently rebellious soul: Uchiha Kagami.

In the original history, this man had made a bold and rather spectacular choice. He had defected. At a time when the Uchiha and the Senju still harbored deep mutual hatred, he had chosen to serve under Tobirama Senju.

This was nothing like what came later with Shisui and Itachi. In their time, the word "Senju" had already all but disappeared from the Uchiha's vocabulary.

The tensions then were focused squarely on the ruling powers within Konoha; the Senju had long faded into the dust of history.

While Shisui and Itachi had simply chosen to side with Konoha, Kagami had unmistakably crossed the line. His actions were, by every definition, a betrayal of his own clan.

Even now, that enmity lingered beneath the surface. Many from both sides still harbored resentment toward one another. It was merely that the times no longer allowed such hatred to be openly displayed.

After all, how could wounds be so easily healed when the kunai still bore the blood of the fallen kin?

The fact that hostilities had been reduced to mere silence was, in itself, already a rare and valuable peace. Even the Senju could not have imagined that one of the Uchiha's own would one day willingly come over to their side.

The circumstances might look similar on the surface, but the truth was different. Shisui and Itachi had merely committed themselves to the village. Kagami, on the other hand, had cast his lot with the enemy.

He might as well rename himself Uchiha Griffith tomorrow.

And what was even more absurd was that this man had somehow managed to cozy up to the ranks of Ninshū.

Apparently, maintaining peace in Konoha was no longer enough to satisfy Kagami's saintly heart. His ambition had grown. Now, he wished to save the entire shinobi world and become a savior sung by all.

Such grandeur of vision. Truly.

Most people could only dream or brag idly about such things. But Kagami did not merely talk. He acted. He moved with conviction.

Why had Ninshū remained quiet for so long?

The answer was simple. Konoha's technological advancement had placed it generations ahead of its rivals. If anyone dared to act with force, the result would be mutual destruction.

But if someone could secretly steal Konoha's core research and technology—what then?

It would mean the end of Konoha's dominance. The balance would shatter.

According to Yayoi, Kagami had entered a relationship with a researcher from the science division. He had built ties with several key scientific personnel. If they had not become aware of it in time, he might very well have succeeded in his plan.

"It's alright," Kyōsuke said at last, flashing a smile as bright and warm as the sun. "Whatever it is he wants to do, don't stop him."

"The actions of a disciple... must ultimately be accounted for by the master. And isn't Tobirama still his teacher, after all?"

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