The unwillingness in his heart churned like molten lava in his eyes, nearly breaking through the mask of gentleness and wisdom he had always worn.
“Why should I possess the power to reshape the world, create a new era, and yet in the end live no longer than those ignorant, powerless ordinary people? Why should I have only a few short decades to live, watching my life’s work potentially lose its way—or even collapse—after my death?”
He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.
“I cannot accept this!”
The low growl seemed to be wrenched from the depths of his soul, filled with rage at the unfairness of fate and the deepest fear that his own existence was approaching its end.
For someone who possessed godlike power and harbored ambitions to transform the world, aging was more terrifying and helpless than any powerful enemy.
Anxiety and obsession wound themselves around his thoughts like vines. He needed an answer—a breakthrough.
Then suddenly, his gaze sharpened.
A detail he had once overlooked flashed through his mind like lightning in the darkness, illuminating the chaos within.
Gamamaru!
That seemingly frail toad who had always appeared as a wise elder!
“Toads are short-lived creatures by nature. Countless of them are born and die within the span of a fleeting life…”
Hagoromo’s thoughts raced. His eyes grew brighter—and colder.
“But ever since I first met him, I have never known his true age. He witnessed my birth, fought alongside me against Mother, helped me establish the Ninshū, and assisted in spreading Chakra… Yet time itself seems to have stopped for him!”
It made no sense!
It was far too unnatural!
This longevity, which so greatly exceeded the limits of his species and perhaps even approached immortality, was no longer merely a trait worthy of respect in Hagoromo’s eyes.
Not now, when his own aging had driven him into fear and obsession.
It had become a tangible clue—a treasure trove that might contain the secret he desired more than anything else.
“There must be… a secret to immortality hidden within it!”
Once that thought took root, it spread like wildfire and could no longer be extinguished.
It perfectly matched his most desperate desire and gave him what seemed like a reasonable motive for what he intended to do next.
Deep down, he did struggle.
To directly threaten Gamamaru—a companion who had fought beside him, someone who had been both teacher and friend—would betray the image of benevolence and guidance he had maintained for so long.
But before the ultimate temptation of immortality, and the fear that the world might descend into chaos once more after his death, that struggle seemed pale and powerless.
Moments later, the last trace of hesitation vanished from his eyes, replaced by a fierce mixture of resolve, greed, and self-justification.
He took a deep breath and murmured to himself, as though searching for a noble and unquestionable reason for what he was about to do.
“For the lasting peace of this world… it needs me to continue protecting it.”
“My death would only divide the Ninshū and plunge the world back into chaos.”
“Therefore, I must… find a way to prolong my life.”
That excuse was like an ornate shroud, covering the most primal feelings buried within his heart: his fear of death and his desire for eternal life.
“Gamamaru.” He gazed in the direction of Mount Myōboku, his expression complicated, though his voice had become cold and resolute. “I hope… you won’t disappoint me.”
His decision made, Hagoromo turned around. The calmness and majesty of the past returned to his face as he summoned the members of the Ninshū and announced publicly:
“I must leave for a time to travel the world, contemplate the natural order, and further my training. I will also seek a path toward a more distant future for the Ninshū.”
“During my absence, all matters concerning the Ninshū shall be discussed and managed jointly by Indra and Asura.”
He temporarily entrusted authority to his two sons, whose personalities were completely different and whose relationship had already become increasingly delicate. Perhaps even this decision carried some element of observation—or a test.
Though the others were reluctant and uneasy, no one dared question the decision of the Sage of Six Paths.
Once all the arrangements had been made, Hagoromo departed alone from the increasingly prosperous settlement of the Ninshū without a lengthy farewell.
His destination was clear—Mount Myōboku.
And his purpose was no longer pure.
As the lonely figure of the Sage of Six Paths disappeared from the Heavenly Curtain, pursuing immortality and straying from his original ideals, a bone-deep chill had already risen in the hearts of those watching throughout the shinobi world.
“Has the Sage of Six Paths… completely fallen to darkness?” someone asked in a trembling voice, filled with the terror of shattered faith. “For the sake of immortality, has he abandoned the very nature of benevolence and guidance he always claimed to possess? Is he really going to force Lord Gamamaru to reveal his secret?”
“Is that really surprising at all?!” someone nearby immediately retorted, their face filled with bitter mockery and disappointment. “Just as Lord Hamura said in the end, arrogance was always part of his nature!”
“And don’t forget who he is! He is the being created through the fusion of the ‘good corpse’ and the essence of the ‘evil corpse’! How could that evil truly have disappeared? It was merely suppressed beneath the appearance of goodness!”
“Now that he’s confronted with the fear of his own death, hasn’t that hidden evil—and his selfish desire—finally been completely exposed?”
“Exactly,” another person said scornfully. “He’s clearly just afraid of dying and greedy for eternal life, yet he hides behind grand words like ‘for the lasting peace of the world’ and ‘the world needs me to protect it forever’! He’s deceiving himself. How hypocritical can he be?”
Disappointment, anger, and even a sense of humiliation at having been deceived spread through the crowd.
The image of the Sage of Six Paths—revered for generations as the creator of the shinobi world and the source of the shinobi way—had completely shattered at that moment, revealing the selfish, vulnerable, and even dark side of his humanity.
That was more unsettling and disillusioning than any powerful enemy could ever be.
Yet the events unfolding within the Heavenly Curtain did not stop because of the viewers’ disappointment.
After Hagoromo left the Ninshū and vanished beyond the horizon, powerful undercurrents began to surge beneath the surface of what had once seemed to be a united and hopeful community.
Almost naturally, the Ninshū quickly divided into two clearly distinct factions.
One faction rallied tightly around the elder son, Indra.
They admired Indra’s extraordinary talent, his genius in creating the system of hand seals, and his profound understanding of the nature of power.
They believed that only a genius like Indra could truly lead the Ninshū to greater heights and bring the power of Chakra to its fullest potential.
Deep down, they looked down upon the younger son Asura’s supposedly “ordinary” talent. They considered him dull and unremarkable, believing that his only advantage was being well-liked and that he was unfit for great responsibility.
The other faction, meanwhile, gathered around Asura.
They were drawn to Asura’s gentle and sincere nature, his selfless willingness to help others, and the leadership he displayed in bringing people together and allowing them to accomplish more through their collective strength.