Chapter 430 — Shock
In the Land of Rain, deep within a heavily concealed cavern—
a gaunt, emaciated figure was fixed into a strange apparatus.
Black rods pierced through his body, anchoring him in place.
Behind him loomed a towering, wooden, humanoid entity—dozens of meters tall, silent and ominous.
The man had long red hair, yet it was dry and lifeless—
much like him.
His eyes were closed, as though lost in deep thought—
until a figure quietly entered.
"Nagato," a gentle voice called out.
It belonged to a woman with long blue hair.
"…Konan," Nagato replied hoarsely.
He opened his eyes—
revealing those eerie, concentric purple rings.
The Rinnegan.
A pair of eyes possessing unimaginable power—
and yet, constantly devouring his life.
Nagato himself didn't know why he possessed them.
But he believed in Jiraiya's words:
That someone with these eyes would one day bring an end to the chaos of the shinobi world.
He would bring peace—
true peace.
Not this fragile illusion—
where smaller nations suffered whenever great powers clashed.
A peace built on others' suffering—
was no peace at all.
What kind of "peace" was it, to speak of harmony while standing atop the pain of others?
And between the great nations—
did peace even exist?
How long had it been since the Third Shinobi War ended?
Yet Kumogakure and Konoha were already at war again.
Worse still—
their battlefield lay within the territory of the Land of Hot Water.
The Hidden Cloud had tried to push into the Land of Fire—
but Konoha would never allow it.
So their conflict remained within another nation's borders.
The Land of Hot Water had no power to refuse.
It had become nothing more than a battlefield.
The casualties of Konoha and Kumogakure were unknown.
But the innocent civilians of the Land of Hot Water—
they suffered all the same.
And if the war escalated further—
the devastation would be unimaginable.
"Still thinking about the war?" Konan sighed softly.
"These great nations… are an inescapable problem," Nagato replied, his tone calm—but not devoid of feeling.
Konan shook her head slightly. "But we can't just destroy them, can we?"
"No. But we also can't keep believing in naive ideas like mutual understanding," Nagato said, lifting his gaze toward the sky—though only rock lay above him.
Yet it was as if nothing could block his vision.
"We're still gathering strength. And when that strength is sufficient…"
"When we reveal it to the world—"
"They will fear us."
"They will restrain themselves."
"They will never dare to wage war so easily again."
The plan was clear:
Gather the nine tailed beasts.
Fuse them into the Ten-Tails.
Turn that power into a force of absolute deterrence.
This idea had been proposed to him by a mysterious figure claiming to be Uchiha Madara.
Nagato didn't trust the man.
But he believed in the plan.
Because only overwhelming power—
could suppress the ambitions of others.
"I have news," Konan said quietly. "Something… unbelievable."
She understood Nagato's resolve—
but she didn't fully believe in his path.
Still, he was the only person she had left.
The only one she trusted.
No matter what choice he made—
she would stand by him.
Even if it meant opposing the entire world.
"What news?" Nagato asked, slightly curious.
"The war between Kumogakure and Konoha… is over."
Konan's voice remained calm.
"It was ended by a single person."
"…I see."
Nagato paused briefly, then returned to his usual composure.
The end of a war was a good thing.
As for it being ended by one person—
he assumed it meant negotiation.
Wars between great nations were always about interests—
never about lives.
Perhaps one side had reached its limit.
Or someone had mediated between them—
forcing both "beasts" to retreat.
Konan had said the war was "ended,"
but Nagato didn't believe it in the literal sense.
A true ending—
would mean overwhelming both sides through sheer power.
Forcing them to feel pain.
To suffer unbearable losses.
Only then would war truly cease.
And that…
was something only he believed he could achieve.
With the Rinnegan—
Nagato was confident.
After all, he had defeated Hanzō—
the so-called "demigod" he once admired, but later came to despise.
His faith in his own power was absolute.
To him, the Rinnegan was a divine gift—
proof that he was chosen to end this chaotic world.
He was the will of heaven made manifest.
A god walking among men.
Konan looked at him—
and immediately understood what he was thinking.
They had known each other too long.
A single glance was enough.
Sighing softly, she decided to tell him the truth.
Whether to warn him of that mysterious Uchiha's danger—
or to reveal what had truly happened—
she knew she had to be honest.
"Yes," she said.
"One person."
"He defeated the Fourth Raikage…"
"And fought the Eight-Tails Jinchūriki alone—leaving him gravely wounded."
Nagato's expression finally turned serious.
"…Is that so?"
"Then this person is quite capable."
"There's more," Konan added.
"The Eight-Tails Jinchūriki is a perfect host."
"He can fully transform into the Eight-Tails."
Konan continued in a calm, steady voice:
"The aftershocks of their battle… nearly wiped out over eight thousand Cloud shinobi stationed around the camp."
"…What?!"
Nagato's expression changed instantly.
Eight thousand combat-ready ninja—what did that even mean?
If such a force entered a smaller nation, they could erase it from existence in moments.
Shinobi were not infinite in number.
An army of eight thousand was already considered massive.
And yet—
such a force had been annihilated by nothing more than the aftermath of a battle?
How could that be possible?
How could anyone reach such a level?
"…It's true," Konan said, even she unable to completely mask her disbelief. "Their fight has already surpassed the limits of what humans can do."
"One was the Eight-Tails in its complete form."
"The other… a chakra giant over a hundred meters tall."
"The battlefield itself was utterly transformed—mountains split apart, rivers cut off, the earth collapsed."
"They…"
"…might as well be gods."
Silence fell.
Nagato said nothing.
This was… difficult to accept.
If it were merely a matter of defeating enemies, he believed he might one day achieve such a feat.
But what Konan described—
a colossal chakra construct towering over a hundred meters…
that level of destruction…
That was something he could not do.
At least—
not yet.
Taking a slow breath, Nagato finally spoke, his hoarse voice low:
"…Who was the Eight-Tails Jinchūriki fighting?"
"An Uchiha," Konan answered softly. "According to the intelligence… it appears to be the one who found us."
"…Uchiha Madara."
---
Meanwhile, in the Land of Earth—within Iwagakure's Tsuchikage office—
An ANBU operative hurried in and placed a report on Ōnoki's desk.
"Tsuchikage-sama, this just arrived from the frontlines."
Ōnoki nodded but didn't open it immediately.
The ANBU shinobi understood and quietly withdrew, leaving the office in silence once more.
Time passed.
Only after finishing his paperwork did Ōnoki finally lean back, rubbing his aching lower back.
Age was catching up to him.
The older he grew, the more his body reminded him of it.
Lately, he had even begun considering finding a successor.
But unfortunately—
no suitable candidate had emerged.
It was… frustrating.
He had even thought about selecting someone young, talented, and trainable—
raising them specifically as a future Tsuchikage.
"…That brat Deidara has potential, but his personality…" Ōnoki muttered to himself.
The boy was undeniably gifted, sharp in battle instincts—
but his temperament…
was unpredictable, to say the least.
Still, he had value.
Sighing, Ōnoki's thoughts drifted to his son.
Kitsuchi.
He would have been a good choice.
A bit too straightforward, perhaps—
but that could be tempered over time.
After all, as long as Ōnoki was still around, he could guide him.
Even if the boy made mistakes, they could be corrected.
But now…
that future was gone.
Kitsuchi's arm had been severed—
by that damned Uchiha Kei.
Worse still, his mind had been scarred by Kei's genjutsu.
His spirit had been shaken.
The best candidate—
his own son—
was no longer an option.
"That brat… if I ever catch you alone on a mission…"
A cold glint flashed across Ōnoki's aged, yet still fierce face.
The damage Kei had inflicted on Kitsuchi was devastating—
enough to nearly end his career as a shinobi.
Kitsuchi wasn't like the Fourth Raikage.
That man was a madman—his entire lineage was.
Even with one arm gone, he could still fight with terrifying power.
Ōnoki despised that recklessness—
but even he had to admit,
those "madmen" had their strengths.
"…Forget it. I'm not that old yet," Ōnoki muttered, standing and stretching slightly. "And my fighting style doesn't rely on physical strength anyway. There's still time."
His gaze soon fell upon the report left on his desk.
It had arrived earlier—
but he hadn't had the time to read it.
Now, curiosity got the better of him.
He picked it up.
The first thing he saw was:
"Battle Report — Land of Hot Water."
"The Land of Hot Water…"
So, the war between Kumogakure and Konoha.
Ōnoki had already seen through Kumogakure's intentions.
He simply chose not to intervene.
To him, the Fourth Raikage's maneuvers were little more than political theatrics—
building reputation, consolidating power.
Eventually, once everything was in place—
he would strike Konoha for greater gains.
But what did that have to do with Iwagakure?
The Third Shinobi War had left them heavily weakened.
They hadn't fully recovered even now.
Meanwhile, Kumogakure—
had suffered minimal losses and recovered quickly.
In many ways, they were already the strongest village.
Naturally, they wanted more.
Perhaps even to dethrone Konoha—
and claim supremacy.
Ōnoki couldn't care less.
Let them fight.
As long as the flames didn't reach Iwagakure.
If Kumogakure won, they'd still suffer losses—leaving opportunities.
If they lost…
even better.
Iwagakure could step in, seize missions, and take advantage.
Besides—
Ōnoki had no love for Konoha.
From Uchiha Madara's legacy of hatred—
to what Uchiha Kei had done to his son—
he remembered it all.
"Always the Uchiha… damn them all."
He muttered under his breath and opened the report.
Moments later—
his face went pale.
Completely pale.
A hundred-meter chakra giant.
The Fourth Raikage gravely injured.
The Eight-Tails defeated.
Those descriptions—
stirred something deep in his memory.
A lone figure.
Proud. Untouchable.
A presence so overwhelming it crushed resistance with a single glance.
"Uchiha Madara… Uchiha Madara…"
"No… that's impossible… impossible…"