Naruto :Madam, You Don't Want Anything To Happen To Sasuke, Right? Chapter 235 : The Impure World Reincarnation Army!

At that mont, just outside the Hidden Leaf Village, a deafening roar tore through the air.

The ground quaked violently as dust exploded skyward, obscuring the horizon with a thick gray haze.

Uchiha Haru’s eyes imdiately shifted toward the source of the disturbance beyond the village’s walls.

He could feel it—a terrifying force that sent shivers down his spine.

It was overwhelming, far surpassing anything he had encountered before. Even the power of the Rinnegan, Tendo Pain, or the masked man who had manipulated events from the shadows paled in comparison to this presence.

Sensing the intensity of this aura, Uchiha Haru’s lips curled into a slight smile.

Excitent surged through his veins.

And in the blink of an eye, he vanished from sight.

Back within Konoha, both shinobi and civilians had noticed the chaos erupting outside.

Though they couldn’t see clearly through the cloud of dust, they understood what was happening.

They had prepared for this for days—perhaps even longer.

Now, the ti had co.

As the Sixth Hokage, Kakashi Hatake moved swiftly to take command. He mobilized the village’s ninja forces and began evacuating civilians to secure zones within the village.

From the gates, Terumi i, the Fifth Mizukage, led her Hidden Mist forces to Konoha’s entrance to provide backup and assist Uchiha Haru in the coming battle.

In an instant, the once peaceful and quiet Konoha beca a whirlwind of activity and preparation.

Outside the village, Uchiha Haru materialized atop a ridge.

Smoke billowed, and dust engulfed the landscape—but none of it hindered his vision.

His Mangekyō Sharingan cut through the haze like a blade, and even without it, the oppressive chakra ahead was unmistakable.

It wasn’t just his eyes.

It was the aura—the overwhelming pressure leaking from that person’s very existence.

Uchiha Haru recognized the figure without hesitation.

Uchiha Madara.

No one else in this world could command such dominance simply by standing still.

Only Madara.

And Madara, too, quickly noticed Uchiha Haru.

So individuals were born to be at the center of the world—forces of nature destined to bend history around them. Even without lifting a finger, their very presence shifted the flow of fate.

There was no doubt that both Uchiha Madara and Uchiha Haru were such people.

They stood across from each other, wordless at first, the air between them humming with tension and chakra.

"You’re quite impressive," Madara finally said, his voice low and calm.

He looked Haru up and down, nodding slightly, his face showing a rare glimr of approval.

"To think soone like you would erge from our clan. You’ve exceeded expectations."

He extended his right hand toward Haru, palm open in invitation.

"Join . Together, we’ll reshape this rotten world into a true paradise."

Madara’s tone held no deceit—just conviction.

He genuinely admired Haru’s strength and presence, enough to offer an alliance.

It was, in his mind, a generous gesture—one he didn’t offer lightly.

If Haru refused, Madara would not offer it again.

But Uchiha Haru only chuckled, folding his arms across his chest.

His black robe flapped in the wind, his eyes unwavering as he t Madara’s gaze.

"A perfect world? That’s nothing more than a perfect delusion."

"You claim to be the puppeteer begins in it all. But you don’t even realize—you’re soone else’s pawn."

"Truly pathetic."

His words were sharp, each one slicing through the illusion Madara had built over the decades.

To Haru, the reality was simple: everything Madara believed in, everything he had done, had served another’s plan.

The so-called dream world was nothing but a farce.

Madara’s expression didn’t change.

He had lived too long, seen too much. Words alone could no longer shake him.

But still, sothing about Haru’s insight left a faint trace of regret within him.

That soone of such brilliance, soone with such bloodline purity, would oppose him—what a waste.

Yet regret could not change the course of war.

In this world, those who stood in his path were simply removed.

That was the law he lived by.

"There are truths in this world that you cannot comprehend, no matter how perceptive you are," Madara said, voice steady, resonating with ancient authority.

"You’re still young. Naive. But if you join —I will teach you everything."

Haru didn’t even flinch.

He saw through Madara’s unwavering belief. It wasn’t wisdom—it was obsession.

He snorted coldly. "Stupid. Stubborn."

Four words. Clear and precise.

Madara remained silent for a mont.

He did not rage. He did not frown.

He simply stared, silently acknowledging the divide between them.

After so many years of struggle, betrayal, war, and bloodshed, his heart no longer stirred for the small things.

Even so—he could not help but feel disappointed.

Haru was extraordinary. A true prodigy. A force worthy of the Uchiha na.

But in the end, if he wouldn’t join Madara... then he had to be destroyed.

Regret was not enough to change destiny.

Those who obstructed Madara’s vision of the world would be eliminated—no exceptions.

"Don’t fool yourself into thinking your power makes you untouchable," Madara said coldly.

"You’re not the only one with the Mangekyō Sharingan."

As his words fell, Madara’s eyes flared a vivid, blood-red hue.

The three tomoe inside were linked together, forming a seamless circle like a spinning blade.

Uchiha Haru didn’t answer.

But at almost the exact sa mont, his eyes turned a deep crimson, revealing the pattern of the Mangekyō Sharingan.

Uchiha Madara’s lips curled into a smile.

He could instantly sense that Uchiha Haru’s eyes were anything but ordinary.

But in the next instant, that smile froze.

A flicker of genuine surprise crossed his expression.

Because he suddenly realized that Uchiha Haru’s eyes weren’t just Mangekyō Sharingan—they were the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.

Identical to his own.

No wonder this boy dared to shout at him.

But did he really think that possessing eyes on par with his own made him his equal?

Madara folded his arms across his chest.

He didn’t form any hand seals.

Yet in the next second, a jet-black wooden dragon surged from the earth at his side. The creature towered nearly a hundred ters high, cloaked in dark light, its body gleaming like steel—intimidating, unrelenting.

"I have everything you possess," Madara said with a playful glint in his eyes, "but you may not have what I do."

He gazed at Haru, smiling with a knowing arrogance.

The masked man had given him so intel on Uchiha Haru.

He knew Haru’s biggest trump cards were the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan and Wood Release.

And now, Madara had revealed both—right in front of him.

He could already picture the look of astonishnt on Haru’s face.

Except... that look never ca.

Haru’s expression remained perfectly calm, unaffected—like everything was still within his control.

And indeed, it was.

As soone who had crossed over from another world, Haru knew Madara’s capabilities well.

Before the Battle of the Valley of the End, Madara hadn’t yet possessed Wood Release.

But shortly afterward, he had transplanted Hashirama Senju’s cells into his body.

That was when he awakened both Wood Release and the Rinnegan.

Uchiha Haru had morized every detail.

So he wouldn’t be rattled by such displays.

After Madara unleashed his wooden dragon—

Uchiha Haru followed with a summon of his own.

His own wooden dragon surged up from beneath him.

But unlike Madara’s black dragon, Haru’s was a deep, luminous blue.

Though similar in size, Haru’s was visibly thicker, sturdier—its bark glistened with raw vitality, its eyes blazing with chakra.

This wasn’t just another Wood Release.

This was the product of a pure and complete bloodline limit—an uncorrupted Mokuton inheritance.

Madara’s Wood Release, while formidable, ca from implanted Hashirama cells. It lacked the essence of a true lineage.

Haru’s Wood Release, however, was different.

It was real. Natural. Innate.

That made all the difference.

Madara’s eyes narrowed.

He had originally intended to crush Haru with this jutsu.

But the tables had turned. His own tactic had been countered—no, surpassed.

When it ca to the Mangekyō Sharingan, they were equals.

But in terms of Wood Release...

Madara was at a disadvantage.

He stared at Haru, who still wore that casual, almost mocking expression.

A cold fury surged through Madara’s body.

He was done holding back.

At that mont, the other mbers of the Akatsuki finally arrived at the battlefield.

At the forefront stood the masked man—Tobi—and Orochimaru.

Behind them walked the First Hokage, Hashirama Senju, brought back through Impure World Reincarnation.

Originally, Orochimaru hadn’t planned to appear on the front lines.

But because of Hashirama’s presence, he had dared to co anyway.

After all, in his pri, Hashirama Senju feared no one.

Even soone as powerful as Uchiha Haru couldn’t easily take his life—not while Hashirama was guarding him.

That confidence was enough for Orochimaru to step onto the battlefield.

This ti, he wanted to witness the fall of Uchiha Haru—the man who had once made even him tremble.

Behind the three of them marched the rest of the Akatsuki.

And following closely behind them...

The massive army of Impure World Reincarnation.

Countless shinobi—brought back from the grave.

Among them were the infamous Seven Ninja Swordsn of the Mist.

There were forr Kage from each of the Five Great Nations.

Legendary figures from across shinobi history—like Hanzō of the Salamander, from the Hidden Rain Village.

There were even those who had died only recently—like Nagato, now returned from the afterlife.

And others: the Third Tsuchikage, Ōnoki. Chiyo from the Sand Village. The Fourth Raikage, who had perished not long ago.

Each one, now under the control of the Reanimation Jutsu, marched forward.

anwhile, the shinobi of Konoha and the Hidden Mist had just finished evacuating the villagers.

They arrived at the village gates—just in ti to witness the approaching army.

The mont their eyes landed on the advancing enemy...

Shock, disbelief, and dread spread across their faces.

This wasn’t just an army.

This was a collection of the deadliest figures from shinobi history.

So had been legends.

Others had been ntors... comrades... friends.

Now, those sa faces glared at them as enemies.

Their bodies had been reanimated. Their souls bound.

And their hearts... silenced.

The grief weighed heavily.

How were they supposed to raise their weapons against their forr teachers?

Their comrades?

Even knowing these were just corpses, animated with chakra—it didn’t make it easier.

But this was war.

Whether they could bear it or not no longer mattered.

Whether they hesitated or not would determine whether they lived... or died.

Whoosh—

A breeze passed through the battlefield.

Blowing away the stillness.

Shaking loose the silence.

The storm of war was about to begin.

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