215. Final Battle

The battle raged on across the battlefield, yet a curious silence fell between the Uchiha and Senju clans. Both sides tacitly paused their fighting, lifting their heads to witness a truly awe-inspiring scene.

Eyes widened in shock, no one even noticed the dust settling in their eyes. Mouths hung open, saliva dripping as if they'd forgotten how to close them.

"Clan leader! You can do it!" x2

Two warriors from either side, who had been locked in deadly combat moments before, now stood shoulder to shoulder. With wide grins, they raised their arms in unison, cheering enthusiastically for their respective leaders.

“Hmph! As if those shabby wooden constructs of yours could ever defeat our clan leader!”

An Uchiha warrior, eyes tinged with Sharingan red, sneered at the Senju warrior beside him, whose face was flushed with excitement.

“Oh? I know an ophthalmologist. Want me to book you an appointment?”

The Senju warrior smirked coldly in response, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he taunted the Uchiha beside him.

“Despicable Senju!”

“Evil Uchiha!”

“Whoooosh—whoooosh—whoooosh—”

Before their escalating feud could reignite, a massive shockwave swept through the battlefield. Both warriors squinted against the turbulence, their gazes locking on an unforgettable sight.

In the heart of the battlefield, Uchiha Madara stood unflinching. Controlling his colossal Susano’o, he grabbed hold of the four massive wooden dragons in one swift motion. With a cold snort, he bellowed:
“The Uchiha Taijutsu Secret Art: Uchiha Suplex!”

This move, perfected over years of clandestine practice, found its moment of glory. Tightening his grip on the wooden dragon heads, Madara inhaled deeply, steadied himself, and with perfect balance, unleashed the full weight of Susano’o in a devastating throw.

“Ah! Ah! Ahhh!”
Caught off guard by this unexpected technique, Senju Hashirama felt his head spin as he clung desperately to the wooden golem's head, gripping any available protrusion to avoid being flung off.

“Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—”
After several powerful rotations, Madara—himself slightly dizzy—released his grip. The massive wooden golem soared through the air like a falling meteor, finally crashing into a distant mountain with a deafening boom!

“Thud!!!”

The mountain trembled under the impact, and the enormous wooden construct lay embedded in the rock.

“Shhhh!”

Madara’s scarlet eyes glowed fiercely. Sensing victory, he pushed forward, commanding his Susano’o to draw its massive longsword. Step by thunderous step, he approached the wreckage, determined to finish the fight.

“Boom! Boom! Boom!”

The ground quaked with each of Susano’o’s strides, and Madara’s resolve deepened with every step.

“Rustle—”
Through the swirling dust, a massive hand emerged, scattering the debris. Standing atop the golem’s head, Hashirama attempted a final plea:
“Madara! We were once close friends, sharing the same dream!”

Looking up at Hashirama’s sincere expression, Madara hesitated briefly. Yet the memory of his father’s tragic death reignited the fury in his heart.

“Hashirama! How long will you cling to such childish ideals?”
Raising Susano’o’s blade high, Madara’s eyes gleamed with a mix of rage and anguish. “Mutual trust? That doesn’t exist!”

The blade fell, slicing through the air with unparalleled force, aimed directly at Hashirama atop the wooden golem.

“Madara!”
Hashirama’s face tightened in resolve. If words couldn’t reach Madara, then he would force him to submit through battle.

Hashirama clasped his hands together, and the battered wooden golem surged with renewed energy. Its enormous fist met Susano’o’s descending blade in a cataclysmic clash.

“Boom!!!”

The sheer force of their collision released a massive shockwave that engulfed the battlefield. Both Uchiha and Senju warriors scattered, fleeing from the overwhelming impact.

“Whoosh—”
At the epicenter of the chaos, Senju Tobirama activated his Flying Thunder God Technique, vanishing from the battlefield in an instant. He reappeared several hundred meters away at the temporary camp, watching as the impact obliterated the surrounding landscape. From above, the battlefield now resembled a colossal crater.

“So this... is the power of the Uchiha?”
Standing on higher ground, Tobirama surveyed the devastation. A deep sense of caution took root in his heart as he began formulating strategies to counter the Uchiha's terrifying might.

After all, among the Senju, only Hashirama had the power of Wood Release, while the Uchiha clan’s Mangekyō Sharingan seemed far more prevalent.

“Boom!”


Although the terrain was devastated, the battle raged on. However, after witnessing the earth-shattering power, neither the Senju nor the Uchiha dared to step back onto the battlefield.

This battle lasted a full day and night.

“Huff… huff… huff…”

Uchiha Madara, breathing heavily, swayed a few times before collapsing to the ground. After struggling for a long time, he realized he no longer had the strength to stand.

“Whoosh—”

A faint sound broke through the air as Senju Tobirama arrived first at the battlefield's aftermath. Upon seeing his father’s killer, Madara could only glare at him hatefully, awaiting his death in silence.

“Madara, it’s over.”

Having assessed the enormous threat posed by the Uchiha clan from this battle, Senju Tobirama, both personally and politically, was determined to eliminate Madara immediately and send him to reunite with his father.

Sigh… I really am a benevolent person!

“Wait, Tobirama!”

Sitting cross-legged beside Madara, Senju Hashirama raised his head, stopping his brother’s reckless action. Madara, unable to move, gave him a sideways glance.

“Why, brother? This is the perfect opportunity!”

This time, it was Tobirama’s turn to be anxious. Madara was a massive threat, whether in life or on the battlefield. He had to be eliminated to prevent future troubles.

“No attacks allowed!”

Hashirama slightly raised his fierce eyes, exuding an intimidating aura that made Tobirama’s heart skip a beat. He immediately broke into a cold sweat.

“Just give me a clean death, Hashirama…”

Compared to the defiant Tobirama, the fallen Madara seemed more reasonable.

Turning his head to face Hashirama, he said slowly, with a look of resignation in his eyes.

“Dying by your hand would be an honorable end.”

I’m a failure. Even after transplanting my father’s Mangekyō Sharingan, I’m no match for Hashirama. I’ve let down my Uchiha ancestors. I’d be better off dead to atone for my father.

“Enough with the dramatics. If I kill you, your brother and the young Uchihas who follow you will rise up in fury.”

As the conflict reached its critical point and the dream of the ideal village loomed on the horizon, Hashirama decided to appeal to reason and emotion. Taking advantage of Madara’s broken spirit, he began his persuasion.

“Humph! The Uchiha clan no longer has people with that much backbone…”

Believing he was about to die and fearing that the Senju would annihilate the Uchiha after his death, Madara, as clan leader, began to denounce his people, indirectly pleading for their survival.

“No, they do. Also, if I kill you, your wealthy cousin won’t let me off the hook.”

Hashirama scratched his head, recalling the extravagant curly-haired relative, and felt a twinge of fear.

“What?”

Now it was Madara’s turn to be bewildered. He had no idea his cousin carried such influence. Could that curly-haired person truly be hiding their strength?

“That cousin of yours even sends New Year’s gifts to my kids every year without fail… hahaha.”

Seeing no way to keep this secret, Hashirama awkwardly laughed as he revealed the truth to the confused Madara.

“That scoundrel! We’re out here fighting for our lives, and he dares to aid the enemy?”

Madara, who had resigned himself to death, was instantly infuriated upon hearing this. Clenching his teeth, he growled, “Help me up! I’m going to cut down that curly-haired fool!”

“Hahaha, that’s the spirit! So, how about we end this war here? Didn’t we agree to build our dream village someday?”

“Sigh…”

Hearing his brother once again dream aloud about their lifelong goal, the soft-hearted Tobirama sighed internally and reluctantly lowered his blade. He knew Madara’s life was now safe.

“Can’t we go back to skipping stones by the river like before?”

Seeing Madara’s attitude soften, Hashirama began reminiscing about their childhood, recounting their playful moments in an attempt to rekindle Madara’s will to live.

“That’s unrealistic. My father is dead; there’s no going back. Now that I’ve lost, I’m no longer fit to protect the Uchiha clan.”

Madara cast a glance at Tobirama, standing nearby, his black eyes flashing with hatred. However, utterly exhausted, he could only explain in a strained voice.

“Besides, I don’t trust you.” Though he said “you,” his mistrust was clearly directed at a certain white-haired individual.

He didn’t entirely close the door, leaving a glimmer of hope.

“What will it take for you to trust us?”

Hashirama, sensing an opportunity, asked eagerly.

“If you want mutual trust, then kill your brother or kill yourself.”

The moment of truth had arrived. Madara’s words were meant to see if he could drag Tobirama down with him.

“If you do this, we’ll be even. I’ll believe in the Senju.”

“Tch, enough nonsense.”

The voice of someone interjected from behind, scolding loudly. “Exactly! That’s utterly absurd.”

Tobirama agreed but subtly prepared his blade.

“Thank you, Madara. You truly are kind…”

“What are you planning, brother? Are you going to kill me?”

Seeing Hashirama still smiling, Tobirama, feeling indignant, puffed out his cheeks and asked angrily.

'Am I not your most beloved little brother'