“How can you speak of being late when the negotiations haven’t even begun?”
The two clan heads faced off against each other, the Chakra fluctuations in the air setting the surrounding leaves rustling without any wind.
At that moment, you felt a wave of dizziness and had to stop in your tracks to steady yourself.
The subtle movement drew Madara’s attention.
He turned his head to look at you, a flicker of worry passing through his eyes.
“Your body…” Madara lowered his voice.
“I’ve already sent people to the other great nations to look for an antidote.”
You forced yourself to stand straight, refusing to respond to Madara’s concerned gaze.
But your heartbeat hammered like a drum in your ears.
You knew Madara could hear it—his senses were terrifyingly keen.
Madara seemed to notice your fluster.
The corner of his mouth lifted in a barely perceptible arc before he turned back to face the Senju.
But you could still feel the lingering warmth of his gaze, like summer sunlight branding itself onto your skin.
“Since everyone is here,” Uchiha Tajima’s voice broke the tense silence, “let us begin.”
Madara withdrew his attention from you, once again becoming the Uchiha young clan head who made enemies tremble.
But your thoughts uncontrollably drifted back to last night—
Crouching in your room, your teeth chattering beyond your control, your fingers clutching the bedding until your knuckles went white, as if that could resist the Cold Poison ravaging your body.
Bracing yourself, you crawled toward the medicine chest in the corner, only to find it empty when you opened it.
You should have replenished the medicine after the last mission, but the endless string of reconnaissance tasks had left you no time.
A searing pain swept over you like a tide.
You grunted, a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of your mouth.
Your vision began to blur, and before your eyes appeared Madara’s eternally calm black eyes.
A cat’s cry made you raise your head with effort.
A jet-black ninja cat leaped lightly onto the windowsill, its red pupils gleaming in the darkness.
You tried to stand, but pitched forward instead.
The cold floor you expected never came.
A pair of strong arms caught your falling body, and the familiar scent of sandalwood surrounded you—the incense Madara always used.
“Uchiha Nagi!” Madara’s voice carried a rare trace of panic.
He cradled the back of your neck with one hand and pressed the other to your forehead—icy cold to the touch.
“The Cold Poison again?
Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
You tried to answer, but could only cough up a mouthful of blood that spattered onto Madara’s dark navy clan robes.
Through your blurring vision, you saw Madara’s brows knit tightly.
Those always-calm eyes now held an emotion you couldn’t read.
“Hold on.” Madara’s voice was low and firm.
He lifted you into his arms in one motion and carried you to the tatami in the inner room.
You felt yourself laid down gently, and then Madara’s warm palm pressed against your ice-cold stomach.
A stream of pure Chakra slowly flowed in, temporarily suppressing the raging Cold Poison.
The pain eased, and you could finally make out Madara’s face, inches away.
His compressed lips and taut jawline showed he was exerting immense control over himself.
“The medicine…
it’s gone…” You forced out the words.
Madara’s eyes darkened.
“Why didn’t you tell me?
As your lover, I have the right to know the state of your body.”
You turned your face away, not wanting Madara to see the frailty in your eyes.
“Sorry.” Your voice was so quiet it was almost inaudible.
Madara didn’t respond, only continuing to feed you Chakra.
His fingers tightened slightly at your waist, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thin fabric of your clothes, while your heartbeat quickened beyond your control.
Before you knew it, you had sunk into a deep sleep.
Between waking and dreaming, you felt someone gently brush the stray hairs from your forehead, and a warm body wrapped around you from behind, dispelling the remaining chill within you.
When you woke again, it was already deep night.
You found yourself held tightly in Madara’s arms.
One of his hands had even slipped inside your clothing, pressed directly against the skin at your waist.
His head rested at your collarbone, his breathing even and long.
You froze.
This had gone far beyond proper bounds.
“Madara…”
Madara’s eyes opened at once, his black pupils like deep pools in the moonlight.
Your gazes met, and you could see the unconcealed concern in his eyes.
“I’m here.” Madara’s voice was husky with just-woken sleep.
The hand at your waist tightened slightly, as if confirming your existence.
A flutter of panic went through you, and you pushed at him gently.
“It’s late.”
Madara didn’t let go right away.
Instead, he lowered his head and pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips.
“Don’t you want me to stay the night?”
“Stop joking.” You turned your head, but couldn’t dodge the light kiss.
You could feel that Madara’s lips were a little dry, carrying a faint scent of tea.
“I have never joked with you.” Madara’s thumb traced your ice-cold cheek, and at last, reluctantly, he let go.
In the end, he rose and left.
His figure paused at the paper door for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he didn’t look back.
Four crescent-shaped bloody marks were left in your palm…
“Uchiha Tajima,” Senju Butsuma’s resonant voice pulled you back to reality, “our two clans have fought for a thousand years, rivers of blood shed.
Today, the Senju clan is willing to set aside hatred and propose an alliance.”
Tajima sneered.
“Alliance?
Since when did the Senju become so naive?
The Uchiha’s Sharingan won’t close just because of a few pretty words.”
Senju Hashirama stepped forward.
“Lord Tajima, war only brings more sacrifice.
If our two clans joined forces—”
“Hashirama!” Butsuma cut him off sharply.
“Step back!
This is not the place for you to speak!”
You noticed Madara’s body lean forward slightly, as if by instinct he wanted to stand at Hashirama’s side.
Madara’s subtle movement didn’t escape Tobirama’s eyes.
He narrowed his red eyes, his hand already resting on his ninja tool pouch.
At just the right moment, Izuna gave a soft cough, and Madara immediately resumed his cold demeanor.
“Father,” Madara spoke, his voice steady, “Hashirama’s words have merit.
Years of continuous warfare have left our clansmen exhausted.”
Tajima’s sharp gaze turned to his son.
“Are you questioning my decision?”
“No.
I am merely presenting another possibility.” Madara was neither servile nor overbearing.
“The Uchiha need time to recuperate.”
Standing behind Madara, you could clearly see the taut lines of the muscles in his back.
At this moment, Madara had to both uphold the Uchiha’s dignity and advance the vision of reconciliation with the Senju.
Just then, Izuna spoke up suddenly.
“What my brother said is right, but…”
He gave Hashirama a meaningful look.
“What we need isn’t a weak peace, but for the Senju clan to pay for their crimes!”
“Izuna!” Madara shot his younger brother a warning look.
The atmosphere at the negotiating table grew even tenser.
You felt the Cold Poison begin to stir in your body again, cold sweat trickling down your spine.
You focused your mind.
If conflict erupted now, you had to protect the safety of the Uchiha.
Senju Tobirama suddenly let out a cold laugh.
“You see, big brother?
This is the Uchiha you trust.
Their so-called peace is nothing but another way of saying surrender.”
Hashirama shook his head painfully.
“No, Tobirama, Madara, he—”
“Enough!” Senju Butsuma slammed the table.
“Uchiha Tajima, it seems we’ll reach no agreement today.
Either the Uchiha accept unconditional ceasefire, or we continue the war!”
The three tomoe of Tajima’s Sharingan revolved slowly.
“Then let war continue.”
Your heart sank.
You saw the same flicker of despair pass over both Madara’s and Hashirama’s faces at once.
“Clan Head.
In last month’s mission, we lost seven elite warriors.
Continuing the war will only weaken the Uchiha.” You spoke up suddenly, your voice not loud but clear enough.
“It seems the Uchiha’s death warriors have learned to interrupt.” Butsuma mocked.
“Tajima, your discipline seems to have grown lax.”
Madara’s Chakra instantly surged, the tomoe in his Sharingan spinning rapidly.
You gently touched his wrist, signaling him to stay calm.
Just as the atmosphere reached its breaking point, a flash of cold light suddenly shot out from the Senju camp, aimed straight at Madara’s throat!
Your death-warrior instincts activated in an instant.
At a speed ordinary eyes couldn’t track, you flashed in front of Madara and knocked the shuriken out of the air with a precise kunai strike.
“Protect the clan head!” Izuna shouted, and the Uchiha ninjas immediately formed formations.
The Senju side likewise drew their weapons, Tobirama already forming Water Release seals.
“Everyone, stop!” Hashirama placed himself between the two sides.
“This is a misunderstanding!”
You kept your defensive stance, your back pressed against Madara’s chest, feeling his powerful heartbeat passing through the fabric, gradually syncing with your own rapid pulse.
“That wasn’t the Senju’s attack.” You said in a low voice to Madara.
“The trajectory of the shuriken is wrong.
Someone is trying to sow discord between the two clans.”
“Go trace the source of the attack!”
Without a moment’s hesitation, you set off straight after the direction the attack had come from.
A second wave followed close behind—this time a rain of shuriken wrapped in poisonous mist.
Hashirama and Madara stood back to back, forming seals in perfect accord.
“Water Release: Water Formation Wall!”
“Fire Release: Great Fire Annihilation!”
The collision of water and fire produced a great cloud of steam, neutralizing the poisonous mist.
But the attacks clearly came from more than one direction.
“It seems someone doesn’t want us to make peace.” Madara sneered, a kunai already in his hand.
Hashirama’s face was grave.
“These people aren’t Senju ninja.”
“Nor Uchiha.” Madara confirmed.
“A third-party force?”
There was no time to think; the enemy was already upon them.
Hashirama used Wood Release to bind several attackers, while Madara’s Sharingan illusion turned several others against each other.
The two displayed astonishing teamwork, like longtime partners.
As the last attacker fell, the sound of more ninja footsteps came from afar.
Hashirama and Madara turned around alertly at the same time.
“It’s the Senju reinforcements!” Tobirama reported, leaping down from a height.
“They sensed the Chakra fluctuation here.”
Almost simultaneously, Uchiha Kakunetsu’s voice came from the edge of the forest.
“Young clan head, the Uchiha reinforcements are here!”
The reinforcements of both clans poured into the ruins from different directions, and the moment they saw each other, they were ready to clash.
“Uchiha!
Prepare for battle!”
“Senju clan, form ranks!”
The situation reached an instant peak of tension.
Hashirama and Madara stood in the middle, exchanging a complicated look.
“It seems we have no choice.” Madara said in a low voice, helplessness flashing through his Sharingan.
Hashirama took a deep breath.
“At least let us control the scale of the battle.”
Madara gave a barely perceptible nod, then raised his voice.
“Uchiha Kakunetsu, take a squad and guard the east side!
Everyone else, follow me!”
The battle inevitably broke out.
The ninjas of both clans clashed rapidly—the clang of kunai, the roar of ninjutsu explosions one after another.
Hashirama and Madara, too, were forced to fight symbolically, to maintain their image as young clan heads.
“Can’t we really sit down and talk?” Hashirama asked in a low voice after blocking one of Madara’s Fire Release techniques, his tone full of earnestness.
Madara’s attack was fierce, but clearly held back.
“It’s too late for that now, Hashirama.
The clansmen are watching.”
“Then let them see our true strength!” Hashirama suddenly raised his voice, his hands flashing through seals.
“Wood Release: Deep Forest Emergence!”
Giant trees surged up from the earth, carving the battlefield apart.
Appreciation flickered in Madara’s eyes, and he activated his Mangekyou Sharingan.
“Now that’s more like it!
Hashirama!
Let me feel your true power!”
The two moved at high speed through the forest of trees, every collision sending out violent Chakra fluctuations.
But in truth, their attacks deftly avoided all vital points.
“There’s an open clearing to the northwest,” Hashirama murmured during a close pass.
“We can draw the battle there and reduce casualties among our clansmen.”
Madara gave a barely perceptible nod, then sent Hashirama reeling toward the intended direction with a Great Fireball.
The two gradually left the main battlefield and arrived at an open area.
Once they were sure no clansmen could see them, they both stopped at the same time.
Your toes lightly touched the decaying tree stumps as you traced the lingering traces of Chakra in the air.
The Naka forest was unusually deep here, even the midday sunlight filtered through the heavy canopy into scattered fragments.
“Too obvious…” You frowned slightly, keeping your pace but alertness rising within you.
The traces left by these attackers seemed deliberately placed—every so often a deliberately broken branch or footprints left behind, as if they were afraid of losing their pursuer.
The dampness of the deep forest condensed into dew hanging on spiderwebs.
Your breath formed a faint white mist in the air.
You stopped suddenly—not because you’d spotted an enemy, but because you sensed that the surroundings were too quiet.
Even the insects and birds had fallen silent, leaving only the thumping of your own heartbeat in your ears.
A bone-chilling cold crept up your spine without warning, and your left hand instinctively pressed against your chest.
Beneath the skin there, it felt like an ice spike slowly rotating.
The Cold Poison, normally suppressed by medicine and Chakra, had suddenly begun to stir.
“Not now…” You gritted your teeth and pressed on, but the scene ahead began to distort.
The tree trunks bent like melting candles, and the ground rippled with an unreal undulation.
You shook your head, forcing your Sharingan to stay focused, and finally spotted three attackers in grey-brown ninja garb in a clearing a hundred meters away.
Just as you began to form seals, your heart suddenly clenched.
Agony lanced through your body like lightning.
You grunted and dropped to one knee, your fingers digging deep into the damp soil.
The Cold Poison moved through your blood vessels like a living thing, each heartbeat bringing fresh pain.
Worse, a huge red moon suddenly appeared before your eyes, filling your entire vision.
Something dark seemed to writhe within that eerie blood-red.
“The Eye of the Moon…
plan…” A vague whisper sounded directly in your mind, impossible to tell whether male or female.
You had never heard these words, yet a nameless fear rose from the depths of your soul.
Cold sweat dripped from your chin.
Just then, your Sharingan caught an anomaly in the shadows on the ground—besides your own silhouette, a vague dark figure was slowly approaching from behind.
The shadow twisted and deformed, extending tentacle-like branches like melting pitch.