They detested Indra’s aloof, arrogant manner and the way he seemed to look down on everyone around him, finding his presence suffocating. Moreover, Indra was overly obsessed with individual power and the perfection of techniques, seemingly lacking any genuine concern for people themselves.
Friction between the two factions gradually began to grow.
Their opinions clashed during discussions, their philosophies conflicted during training, and even their everyday interactions inevitably led to disputes.
Although the lingering prestige of the Sage of Six Paths remained, and the two brothers maintained a superficial degree of brotherly affection, preventing matters from escalating into an outright rupture or armed conflict, an atmosphere of mutual incompatibility and covert rivalry had already spread throughout the entire Ninshu.
Yet beneath the open struggle between these two major factions, even deeper currents were stirring in the shadows.
The heavenly screen quietly shifted its focus to an inconspicuous room within the Ninshu compound, its doors and windows tightly shut.
The room was dimly lit, with only an oil lamp providing a faint glow. Two figures sat facing one another.
One of them had a resolute face and sharp eyes, with a trace of hidden depth and calculation between his brows. He was none other than Hiruzen Sarutobi.
The other bore some resemblance to him, but possessed a gloomier, more reserved temperament. His eyes flickered constantly. This was Danzo Shimura.
“Brother!” Danzo was the first to speak, deliberately adopting a relaxed and affectionate tone, as though this were nothing more than an ordinary family visit.
Hiruzen reached out and patted him on the shoulder, the gesture familiar and carrying the bearing of an elder brother.
“Danzo, how has the family been lately…?”
This simple question revealed a startling fact—Danzo was not from an unrelated clan!
He was a descendant of the Sarutobi clan’s branch family, the “Sarutobi Branch,” which had split off from the main family!
Hiruzen and Danzo’s fathers were biological brothers. The two of them were, in fact, cousins connected by blood!
“Things have been fairly stable,” Danzo answered with a slight bow, his tone respectful. “Thanks to you, Brother, our numbers are… approaching a hundred now.”
For a branch family that had separated from the main clan to grow to nearly a hundred members in such a short time was no small achievement.
“Haha, that’s quite good.” Hiruzen laughed heartily. His laughter echoed through the cramped room, yet somehow carried very little genuine warmth.
“In the end… we’re still no match for your side, Brother,” Danzo added softly.
There was a complicated emotion hidden in his words—perhaps envy, perhaps self-pity, or perhaps something else entirely.
The smile on Hiruzen’s face vanished abruptly, as though he had changed masks in an instant. His expression became grave and solemn.
He waved a hand and fixed Danzo with a sharp gaze.
“Let’s get to business.”
The atmosphere immediately became tense and secretive.
Danzo likewise shed every unnecessary expression. Leaning forward slightly, he lowered his voice and asked in a grave tone:
“Brother, what… should we do next?”
Hiruzen did not answer immediately. His eyes were dark and thoughtful as his fingers unconsciously tapped against the tabletop in a soft, steady rhythm, as though weighing and calculating something.
The flame of the oil lamp danced in his eyes, reflecting a glimmer of political scheming that seemed bottomless.
Only after a long while did he slowly speak. His voice was low and clear, every word carrying an icy weight.
“Continue… driving them apart.”
He paused, and a flash of ruthlessness and resolve passed through his eyes.
“Make the factions of Indra and Asura fight as fiercely as possible. Their contradictions must intensify. Their opposition must become unmistakable.”
Danzo’s brow immediately furrowed, and obvious hesitation and concern appeared on his face.
“Brother, I understand what you mean. But… letting them keep fighting like this isn’t a solution either.”
He looked up at Hiruzen. “The Sage of Six Paths has gone traveling, and no one knows when he’ll return. Sooner or later, the Ninshu will have to choose an official successor.”
He left the rest unsaid, but his meaning was obvious—what if they played with fire and got burned, or the final outcome did not go as they intended?
Seeing Danzo’s worried expression, Hiruzen’s lips curved into an almost imperceptible smile filled with calculation.
He seemed to have considered this long ago. Slowly leaning back in his chair, he gazed through the window at the night sky—symbolizing the future of the Ninshu, yet already filled with turbulent undercurrents—and murmured meaningfully:
“A successor… Heh. It’s precisely because we’re choosing a successor that the waters need to become muddier.”
“Danzo, remember this.” He withdrew his gaze and looked once more at his cousin, his eyes unfathomably deep. “Sometimes, a deadlocked balance is… more advantageous to us than a clear victory or defeat.”
“When they’re fighting so fiercely that neither side can completely suppress the other… that will be our opportunity.”
With those words, the room fell silent.
“Then what exactly should we do? If we’re discovered, we’re finished.”
Inside the secret chamber, the flame of the oil lamp flickered uneasily, stretching and twisting the shadows cast by the two men against the wall until they appeared enormous and distorted.
Danzo’s question hung in the stifling air, carrying both anxiety about the future and an urgent desire to understand his cousin’s plans.
Hiruzen did not answer at once.
He closed his eyes, as if repeatedly playing out a complicated game of chess in his mind—or perhaps suppressing some deeply buried emotion.
After a moment, he slowly opened them. His gaze was sharp as a blade. But rather than answering directly, he posed a question of his own.
“Danzo, tell me… given the current situation, between Indra and Asura, who do you think is more likely… to inherit leadership of the Ninshu?”
Danzo was briefly taken aback, but the question was not difficult to answer. After a moment’s thought, he replied frankly:
“Naturally, Indra.” His tone carried the certainty of something almost universally acknowledged.
“You know it as well as I do, Brother. His talent is simply extraordinary. His strength surpasses everyone else in the entire Ninshu—no one can compare to him. And on top of that, he created the hand-seal system, a foundational achievement for the Ninshu. His prestige is at its peak.”
“As for Asura, while he’s quite popular with people, his talent is comparatively ordinary, and his strength far inferior… No matter how you look at it, Indra should be the successor.”
“Yes…”
Hiruzen softly uttered those two words, but his voice suddenly turned cold, like an icicle in the depths of winter.
In his eyes, a hatred he had kept suppressed—a hatred so intense it seemed to have seeped into his very bones—finally flashed into view uncontrollably.
Though it lasted only an instant, it inexplicably sent a chill through Danzo’s heart.
“And that is precisely why,” Hiruzen said, lowering his voice even further, each word seeming to be forced through clenched teeth with icy weight, “he… must never inherit the Ninshu!”
“!?!” Danzo’s face was filled with astonishment. He could not understand at all.
“Why? Brother, when choosing a successor to lead such a vast Ninshu and safeguard the legacy of chakra, shouldn’t… shouldn’t we choose the strongest and most capable person? What’s wrong with that?”
To him, it was simply the natural order of things.
Seeing the confusion on his cousin’s face, Hiruzen’s lips slowly curled into an extraordinarily complicated smile—a mixture of mockery, insight, and secret calculation.