Uchiha Setsuna pushed his Sharingan’s ocular power to its absolute limit.
He saw it.
In the shadows between the crowded masses, a small, unruly tuft of silver hair that stood out even in the darkness!
A Senju!
It was that brat from the Senju Clan, the one treated like a precious treasure!
How could he be here?!
“There’s—”
The shout Uchiha Setsuna was about to roar out got stuck in his throat; the surging killing intent and fury nearly incinerated his sanity!
He couldn’t shout.
Once he spoke out, the appearance of this Senju brat would instantly turn his meticulously prepared “Welcoming the Saint” mobilization into a massive joke!
It would be a supreme humiliation—their arch-rival, a Senju, had infiltrated the clan’s sacred ground and reached the Naka Shrine stone tablet!
His face turned ashen in an instant, veins bulging like writhing dragons on his forehead as he ground his teeth audibly.
He didn’t make a sound, but that tangible killing intent, like the sharpest ice pick, pierced through the boisterous crowd and pinned itself firmly to that corner!
Every hair on Naoki’s body stood on end in an instant; he was spooked!
He had been discovered!
He didn’t know where he had slipped up, but he knew that the man standing before the stone tablet—that Uchiha Setsuna whose gaze could kill—had already sliced him into a thousand pieces with his eyes.
What should he do?
Run?
He was surrounded by forty or fifty Uchiha maniacs with Three-Tomoe Sharingan, many of whom were battle-hardened Elite Jonin.
Where could he go?
He’d likely be caught in a genjutsu the moment he lifted his foot and then hacked to pieces.
Fight?
Don’t be ridiculous.
Right now, he was just a squishy mage with low HP and MP, and one who hadn’t even learned any skills yet.
The unlucky fellow he was holding as a hostage and meat shield didn’t even groan when he met Uchiha Setsuna’s murderous gaze; his eyes rolled back, and he promptly fainted from sheer terror.
“…”
Naoki slowly let go, letting the free shield slump to the ground, his heart turning cold.
He knew he couldn’t hide anymore.
Slowly, very slowly, he stood up from the shadows.
He raised his head.
Shua— Shua— Shua—
The fanatical shouts in the secret chamber came to an abrupt halt, as if an invisible giant hand had seized everyone by the throat.
Dozens of pairs of crimson eyes, flickering with the ominous pattern of the Three-Tomoe Sharingan, turned in unison, filled with scrutiny, confusion, and blatant malice.
In that moment, the air seemed to be sucked dry, turning into tangible ice.
The temperature plummeted.
Dozens of cold, murderous gazes wove together into an airtight net, firmly enveloping Naoki’s eight-year-old body.
Naoki’s heart nearly stopped.
His mind went blank, with only one thought echoing wildly, drowning out all fear.
It’s over!
I’m really going to suffer a social death now!
That pink, lace-trimmed, outrageously gaudy women’s kimono…
That demonic, shameful dance that gave him PTSD whenever he saw a butterfly in his previous life…
And Second Grandpa’s face that could freeze a person to death, along with Great Grandma’s shiny Camera, ready to record all his dark history…
No!
Anything but that!
I, Senju Naoki, would rather die!
Even if I’m chopped into mincemeat and my ashes are scattered by you Uchiha, I will never perform that dance!
Never!
Just as his mental defenses were about to crumble, and he was on the verge of biting his tongue to commit suicide to preserve his dignity, that familiar yet detestable mechanical voice rang out.
[Detected that the host’s dignity is facing a trampling threat; a fatal crisis has arrived.]
[“Madara’s Majesty” must not be provoked!]
[Crisis response mechanism, forced activation…]
[Congratulations to the host for triggering an emergency limited reward: Majesty Experience Card (Uchiha Madara – Peak Version)!
Time limit: ten minutes!]
In the next second.
Naoki even didn’t have time to react before an indescribable terror—originating from the depths of his bloodline and soul, a mixture of endless slaughter, mountains of corpses, seas of blood, ultimate solitude, and absolute dominance—erupted from his small eight-year-old body like an awakening god from an eon-long slumber!
There was no sound.
There was no light.
But the candlelight in the secret chamber was pressed outward as if in worship, the light distorting!
The finest dust on the ground was crushed into nothingness by an invisible force!
It was something sharper than “Water Style: Water Severing Wave,” a keenness that could slice the soul; hotter than “Great Fire Annihilation,” a burning pain that could incinerate the will; something heavier and more irresistible than death itself!
“Ugh!”
The Uchiha elites closest to Naoki didn’t even see what happened.
They only felt an unrivaled, massive force appear out of thin air, as if the weight of the entire world had condensed into an invisible mountain, slamming hard against their chests and their dignity!
Their knees let out a groan of being overburdened, and they all fell to their knees with a “thud,” completely out of control!
Warm blood seeped uncontrollably from their mouths and noses.
Their pupils constricted violently.
Their proud Three-Tomoe Sharingan, capable of seeing through all the world’s illusions, were like fireflies encountering a creator god; they trembled and spun wildly, the tomoe patterns even beginning to crack, showing signs of collapsing and dissipating!
This…
what is this?!
A veteran Jonin who had never even flinched on the battlefield was now shaking like a child; he felt as if his very soul had been frozen!
Panic spread wildly among these Uchiha elites like the most terrifying virus.
Their pride, their bloodline, and their Sharingan all became the most pathetic jokes at this moment.
The killing intent and anger on Uchiha Setsuna’s face had completely vanished.
In its place was an expression as if he had seen a ghost—no, it was a look of even greater horror than seeing a god or demon.
He stared fixedly at the brat standing motionless on the spot.
The child was forced to raise his head—no, it wasn’t force, it was a natural awakening.
His silver hair emitted a cold, deathly halo under the dim light.
Those naturally red eyes of his could no longer be called eyes.
They were like two slowly burning blood-colored black holes—cold, indifferent, and devouring all light and hope.
There was no fear, no tension, not even any emotion belonging to a “human.”
Uchiha Setsuna felt his soul trembling.
From those eyes, he understood the meaning.
It was a look of looking down from above.
An absolute disdain that didn’t even bother to view them as “ants,” but as a group of meaningless dust that could be wiped away at any moment.
This…
this was not the Saint they were supposed to “welcome” at all!
What the hell…
kind of monster is this?!