Chapter 10:The Demon at The Gates

Konoha Prepares for War

The skies over Konoha were clear.

Yet, every shinobi in the village felt an approaching storm.

The attack on Iwagakure had sent a message.

Madara Uchiha was back.

And now, with the Nine-Tails under his control, there was only one target left—Konoha.

Tobirama stood on the village walls, watching as squads of Anbu and Jonin moved into position.

"We don't have the numbers to face him head-on," he muttered.

Hashirama stood beside him, arms crossed. "That's why we won't fight him head-on."

Tobirama glanced at him. "You think we can outmaneuver him?"

Hashirama didn't answer.

Because deep down, he knew the truth—this wasn't just any enemy.

This was Madara.

And no amount of strategy could prepare them for what was coming.

Gojo, standing nearby, let out a sigh. "Man, you guys really do love overthinking things."

Tobirama shot him a look. "This isn't a joke, Gojo."

Gojo stretched, cracking his neck. "Never said it was. But let's be real, the only ones who stand a chance against Madara are me and Hashirama."

Hashirama nodded. "Which is why I need you to—"

Boom.

The air shattered.

A shockwave tore through the village, sending buildings crumbling as a figure emerged from the flames.

Madara Uchiha had arrived.

The Demon Walks

The street was silent.

At least, it was—until the first Anbu moved.

Madara didn't even look at him.

A single slash.

Blood splattered against the ground.

The other Anbu didn't hesitate. Ten elite shinobi rushed forward.

Madara exhaled.

Ten bodies hit the ground.

One by one.

Effortless.

He walked forward, stepping over corpses as if they were nothing.

"I expected more from Konoha's best," he muttered.

Another squad appeared on the rooftops. They launched a barrage of kunai, infused with explosive tags.

Madara raised a hand.

Boom.

A gust of pure force obliterated the projectiles midair, sending the Anbu flying backward.

He smirked. "Pathetic."

Then—he reached for the hilt of his war fan. His chakra surged. His Susano'o began to form—

Until a hand grabbed his face.

The world blurred.

The Challenger Appears

Boom!

Madara was ripped from the battlefield, his body flung through the sky at blinding speed.

The ground shattered as he was slammed into the outskirts of Konoha, dust and debris erupting everywhere.

A long silence.

Then—

Madara stood up, brushing off his armor. His Sharingan burned.

He looked up.

And there, standing above him, blindfold in place—was Gojo Satoru.

Madara touched his face, feeling the lingering force of Gojo's grip.

Then he laughed.

"I see." His lips curled into a grin. "So it's you."

Gojo cracked his knuckles. "Took you long enough to recognize me, old man."

A new voice cut through the air.

"Madara."

Hashirama stepped forward, standing beside Gojo, his eyes filled with resolve.

Madara's smirk widened. "So, this is how it is?"

Gojo grinned. "Oh yeah."

Madara lifted his war fan, his chakra rising. "Good."

The ground beneath them shook.

The battlefield was set.

Madara vs. Hashirama and Gojo.

And this time, there would be no holding back.