CHAPTER 89

While speaking, Madara turned his head slightly, glancing at the black tubes connecting his back to the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path.

"Zetsu, help me adjust it a bit," he ordered calmly, referring to the chakra receiver embedded behind him, which now sustained his fragile body.

Without the Demonic Statue constantly supplying life energy, Madara would have perished long ago. What he wanted now was for Zetsu to extract even more life force from the statue to stabilize and slightly strengthen his condition.

"This is the power of Hashirama," Madara muttered to himself.

With Black Zetsu's assistance, Madara successfully drew more life force from the statue. His body, though still frail with his long white hair and aged features, visibly regained some vitality. His sharp gaze, filled with the spirit of a once-invincible warrior, returned.

"Although I'm still far from my prime," Madara said, flexing his arms stiffly, "this much should be enough to deal with small fry."

He moved his long-unused limbs, recovering a sliver of the sensation he once had in battle.

However, just as Madara was relishing his partial recovery, a certain fool ruined the moment.

"Madara-sama, you're really old now. Are you sure you'll be alright? If not, maybe you should merge with Tobi?" a voice suggested.

The so-called "merging" meant allowing Tobi — an early White Zetsu clone — to physically merge with Madara's body. This would temporarily bolster Madara's strength using Hashirama's cells, similar to how Obito later relied on Zetsu's prosthetics to recover.

Though it might have provided some benefits, Madara's pride would not allow it. He inwardly rejected the idea a thousand times over.

Even if it meant dying here and now, Madara would never allow himself to be parasitized by a brainless creature like Tobi — especially one who constantly babbled about nonsensical things like what it felt like to poop.

Without hesitation, Madara tore the chakra transmission tube out from his back, grabbed his iconic war fan (gunbai), and slowly walked toward the cave entrance.

Behind him, Tobi tilted his head in confusion. "Madara-sama didn't answer... Does that mean yes? Or no?"

Black Zetsu merely glanced at Tobi silently before sinking into the ground.

Meanwhile, deeper inside the limestone cave, several Iwagakure ninja were cautiously advancing. They had been dispatched by Ōnoki to investigate the rumored hideout of the white monsters — the White Zetsu army.

At first, they assumed they would be ambushed by white humanoid monsters. But the eerie calm and emptiness unsettled them even more.

Years of battlefield experience told them: in silence, true danger lurked.

Tap… tap… tap...

Footsteps echoed from the darkness ahead.

Tense, the Iwagakure ninja readied their weapons. In the dim light, they finally glimpsed a human-like figure emerging.

"Attack!" someone shouted, and without hesitation, the Iwagakure shinobi charged, aiming to capture a live enemy for interrogation.

"Hmph." A disdainful snort responded.

Before they could even react, screams erupted.

Madara moved like a phantom. Despite decades of isolation, his taijutsu was as deadly as ever. The Iwagakure ninja, considered elite among their ranks, were effortlessly slaughtered in the narrow confines of the cave.

Partly because they underestimated him — but mostly because Madara's strength was simply overwhelming.

"They're Iwagakure shinobi… After all these years, still so pitiful," Madara muttered coldly. Crushing the neck of the last ninja, he cast the corpse aside and continued forward.

Outside, one Iwagakure scout, hearing the chaotic screams from within, rushed to report to Ōnoki.

The remaining forces outside raised their guard, anxiously awaiting whatever monster might emerge.

Even Ōnoki himself floated midair using the Light-Weight Rock Technique, preparing to unleash Dust Release at a moment's notice.

"Something's coming out."

"Wait... it's a person."

"An old man? And he's wearing... ancient armor?"

When Uchiha Madara finally emerged from the cave into the light, the assembled Iwagakure shinobi were stunned.

They had prepared themselves for anything — except this: a withered old man clad in battered traditional armor.

But those screams from earlier...?

None of them could reconcile the sight before them with the massacre they just heard.

Only Ōnoki, floating above, instantly recognized the figure — and his heart nearly stopped.

Uchiha Madara.

The memories, long buried, flooded back. Memories of standing beside his teacher, Second Tsuchikage Mū, humiliated and dismissed by Madara during tense negotiations in Konoha.

Madara — who was supposed to have died fighting Hashirama Senju at the Valley of the End.

How could he still be alive?

Amid the shock, Ōnoki's mind raced.

But alongside the fear came another emotion: hope.

Madara looked ancient and frail. If they struck now, maybe... just maybe, they could kill him.

Avenging the shame of the past, redeeming himself and his teacher — it was too tempting.

He realized he might just be a pawn in someone else's larger scheme — likely the masked man who manipulated space-time to bring them here — but he didn't care.

If it meant slaying Uchiha Madara, Ōnoki was willing to be used.

"Everyone, prepare for battle!" Ōnoki shouted.

Far above in the clouds, the Third Raikage, observing from a distance, frowned deeply.

He muttered to himself:

"They're fighting already... but who the hell is that white-haired old corpse crawling out of a grave? He's terrifyingly strong."

Seeing that fighting had already erupted below, Raiga Kurosuki was surprised. He hadn't expected that an old man like that would still possess such overwhelming strength.

"Haha, as expected of a legend. He noticed us so quickly," Aoba Kawaki said with a chuckle.

Perhaps others hadn't realized it yet, but his keen senses had clearly captured it—below, even while fighting, Uchiha Madara was already aware of their presence in the sky.

Aoba wasn't surprised. After all, this was Uchiha Madara—the Asura of the Ninja World.

"Be prepared," Aoba warned. "Even if he's not at full strength, he's still not someone Ōnoki can handle alone. Be ready to join the fight—and ready to die again."

Suddenly, a deep voice echoed from below:

"Fire Style: Majestic Destroyer Flame!"

Although technically a B-rank ninjutsu, in Madara's hands, it was more devastating than even high-level A-rank techniques.

A monstrous wall of flames surged out, forcing a large number of Iwagakure shinobi to retreat in panic—a sight that made even the spectators in the sky twitch.

"Hey, hey, you gotta be kidding me! Such a terrifying fire jutsu... and he's not even at his peak?" Kisame Hoshigaki exclaimed, his face full of disbelief.

"You still don't get it? That old man down there is none other than Uchiha Madara—the nightmare of the Ninja World. I didn't think he was still alive," said Jūzō Biwa, pulling out a canteen from his waist and gulping down its contents.

It wasn't water—it was preserved blood, prepared in advance to temporarily boost his chakra and physical abilities.

Using it alongside his sword Kubikiribōchō, he could unleash even more devastating attacks.

Nearby, Raiga Kurosuki checked over his twin swords, Kiba, which were infused with lightning chakra.

The opponent they were facing was the legendary Madara—no one dared to be careless.

Even the Third Raikage, A, looked eager, his muscles trembling with anticipation as if he wanted to leap into battle immediately.

Suddenly, a flash of blinding white light exploded below—the sign of Dust Release.

Ōnoki had finally unleashed his most devastating jutsu: the Dust Release: Detachment of the Primitive World Technique.

In an instant, mountains, rocks, grass, and trees disintegrated into fine dust, obliterated on an atomic level.

But Madara was faster.

Using the Body Flicker Technique, he dodged at blinding speeds, far beyond that of an ordinary Jōnin—faster than even some taijutsu masters.

Even without his Mangekyō Sharingan, this was Uchiha Madara—the man who had once fought against the entire ninja world.

Ninjutsu, taijutsu, genjutsu—Madara stood at the pinnacle of all of them.

As the three tomoe of his Sharingan spun rapidly, Madara activated a simple genjutsu, instantly taking control of several Iwagakure Jōnin who met his gaze.

Without resistance, they turned on their comrades, causing chaos within their own ranks.

Watching from above, Ōnoki's expression darkened.

That crimson gaze... it brought back painful memories of the terror he had felt in his youth, dominated by the power of those eyes.

Even now, though Madara was old, he was still the Asura of the Ninja World.

But something was wrong.

The towering blue Susanoo from his memories—the one that once crushed entire battlefields—was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, Madara fought personally, relying on physical strength and conventional ninjutsu.

"Everyone, scatter!" Ōnoki roared. "Don't clump together! Numbers won't work against someone like him!"

He continued launching smaller Dust Release attacks, but Madara dodged them all effortlessly, as if playing with children.

Yet, the longer the fight dragged on, the more Ōnoki noticed something.

Although Madara was killing shinobi with terrifying skill, it was still slower—less overwhelming—than the monster from his memories.

Something was off.

"Could it be... old age?" Ōnoki thought grimly.

Eventually, he realized the truth: the eyes.

Though powerful, Madara's current Sharingan wasn't the same invincible force it once was.

Was there a problem with them? Or had time finally dulled the blade of the world's deadliest Uchiha?

Yet, even suspecting Madara was weakened, Ōnoki didn't dare test it by locking eyes with him—he knew better than anyone how dangerous Madara's genjutsu could be.

Still, all signs pointed to a single truth:

Madara was no longer the invincible god of the past.

He was aged, diminished.

Just then, a new flash of light filled the battlefield—a teleportation technique.

Four figures appeared.

The loudest among them, the Third Raikage, scoffed openly:

"So this is the legendary Uchiha Madara? Hmph, he's not as impressive as the stories made him out to be!"

Without hesitation, the Raikage turned into a bolt of lightning and charged toward Madara.

Ōnoki, mid-battle, narrowed his eyes in alarm.

Even if these newcomers seemed like allies, they were no friends of Iwagakure.

He hadn't forgotten that they, too, were enemies in the past.

If not for these troublemakers, Iwagakure might never have had to deal with Madara awakening in the first place.

"Hey, old man!" Raiga Kurosuki shouted. "Don't glare at us like that. We're here to help you, whether you like it or not.

If we hadn't shown up, your village would be a pile of corpses already."

Ōnoki snorted coldly but refrained from launching a Dust Release attack.

"Tch, what an ungrateful geezer," Raiga muttered under his breath before adding,

"Anyway, our boss asked me to deliver a message."

He grinned maliciously.

"He said to tell you this: Iwagakure fights like a pack of scared dogs. The current Uchiha Madara doesn't even have his legendary Mangekyō Sharingan anymore, and his strength isn't half what it used to be.

If you're still trembling against this version of Madara... maybe it's time Iwagakure just packed up and shut down.

That way, you won't embarrass yourselves—or wet yourselves—like you did back in the day."

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