Chapter 120: Shattering Salada Star

The migration was in full swing. In the blink of an eye, three months had passed, and all the Shinkō tribe from the Salada planet had relocated to Earth.

In fact, it wasn’t only the Shinkō tribe; a great many species surviving on Salada all migrated to Earth, making the planet bustling with life.

Uchiha Madara and Senju Hashirama sat side by side atop a high mountain, overlooking the scenery below.

At the foot of the mountain stood the war fortress, with strange birds and beasts occasionally taking flight around it.

The sun was setting in the west, casting a faint yellow glow, yet the sky held not one but five suns—one dim in the east, a glaring one in the center, and the fading yellow one in the west.

The sight was extraordinary.

Madara and Hashirama sat quietly together, enjoying the view, their lips curling into faint smiles as a gentle breeze brushed past.

Comfortable moments slipped by swiftly. Madara’s eyes beneath his spiky hair involuntarily glanced toward Hashirama, then quickly snapped back.

A glance and a turn, moved with agility.

“Madara, you’re just the same as ever,” Hashirama smiled, turning to face Madara. “After all these years, haven’t you missed me?”

His eyes shone with anticipation, his smile wide.

Madara turned his head to the side but then adjusted his angle so Hashirama could see half his face. He hummed softly and said, “Who would miss you?” pressing his lips together as he spoke.

Hashirama laughed heartily, gazing at Madara’s profile. “You’re the one who misses me! Don’t deny it—you’re even blushing!”

Flustered and embarrassed, Madara snapped his head back, glaring with his eyes. With a loud bang, Hashirama was flung away.

Not only that, part of Hashirama’s body dissipated into gray mist, then reformed.

After being resurrected through the Impure World Reincarnation, his body was immortal, sustained by spiritual power. Madara’s playful glare had actually caused him to scatter.

Luckily, it was just a casual move; otherwise, Hashirama wouldn’t have been able to recover.

Realizing his mistake, Madara was about to make amends but then withdrew his intention.

Midair, Hashirama formed hand seals, then clasped his hands together. Vines sprouted from the rocks atop the mountain, curling around him and pulling him back.

Madara watched silently as Hashirama returned, his eyes filled with unspoken apology.

Hashirama shook his head, signaling that it was nothing to fret over. Meeting Madara’s gaze, he smiled, “Madara, I’ve missed you too.”

When they were together, one always had a heart full of words to say, and the other was eager to listen.

Perhaps it was for this reason they had become such close friends.

Hashirama said, “I only have today to spend with you. Soon, I must return.”

Since unifying Earth, Orochimaru had proposed a new experimental project: advancing the Impure World Reincarnation technique.

This jutsu called forth the dead to fight, essentially harnessing the souls of the deceased.

It bore some relation to the soul cultivation methods of the Sage of Six Paths.

Now that the realm of the dead had been taken away by the Sage, and the people on Earth were immortal, those resurrected through Impure World Reincarnation, led by Hashirama, had become rare treasures.

Usually, Hashirama remained in a designated research chamber, dormant for observation.

Madara snorted, “Who wants your company?”

After a pause, he added, “I could truly bring you back to life, not this half-living, half-dead state. I could even make your Wood Release stronger.”

Madara had long wanted to fully revive Hashirama, but Hashirama always refused; he did not wish to be truly alive again.

This time, Hashirama shook his head, “No, I think this is fine. Among those resurrected, I have the greatest experimental value. I no longer intend to be truly human.”

A faint smile curved Hashirama’s lips as he gazed toward the horizon, a spark in his eyes. Madara looked there too, his eyes heavy with a sigh.

His old friend harbored the dream of eradicating all wars in the world, sharing a vision with him. It seemed Hashirama planned to burn with purpose, lending his greatest value to supporting Orochimaru’s cosmic unification.

...

The residents of Salada had completed their migration. Viewed from space, this once vibrant living planet now floated alone and desolate.

Only one living thing remained: the Divine Tree.

The Divine Tree spread its canopy to eclipse the sky, growing so vast it almost overwhelmed Salada itself.

No one dared to touch the Divine Tree, for it belonged to the natural energy of Salada, which was the natural energy destined for Earth’s future.

With the migration complete, the next phase was the devouring.

Madara watched Hashirama’s retreating figure with a stoic face, though his eyes betrayed a hint of reluctance.

When Hashirama disappeared from sight, Madara soared into space, facing Salada and the Divine Tree.

He then summoned a Susanoo—a colossal blue warrior that rapidly expanded until it dwarfed the Salada planet.

The Susanoo wielded a massive sword, striking down toward Salada.

Instantly, the Divine Tree awakened, attacking Madara like a giant celestial beast.

The destruction of Salada caused a tremendous commotion. From Earth, people witnessed a towering blue energy giant battling the living Divine Tree, with fragments of the planet flying everywhere.

At the same time, Earth sprang into action. Hyūga Hizashi piloted Earth itself toward Salada, as if to collide, while others began maneuvering the mobile fortress.

Earth was about to engulf Salada.

At that moment, ten pale-skinned humans with horns and white eyes appeared at the edge of space.

They were the Ōtsutsuki clan’s cosmic patrol guards.

“Stop!”

“Spare the tree!”

“...”

Though they had not arrived physically, their voices resonated through space—an advanced chakra technique allowing sound to travel through the void.

Not only Madara but everyone on Earth could hear.

The native Earthlings felt little concern; they feared Orochimaru, not the Ōtsutsuki.

Without Orochimaru, they might never have known the experience of interstellar travel.

But the newly arrived Shinkō tribe immediately changed color. A formidable enemy had arrived!

Despite having been on Earth for days and witnessing Orochimaru’s terrifying cultivation methods, their confidence wavered.

The Ōtsutsuki clan’s reputation was overwhelming.

In space, the blue giant under Madara’s control looked toward the Ōtsutsuki with a faint smile. He swung his sword in a swift strike, severing the dying Divine Tree.

“You dare!”

“How bold!”

“Mortal!”

“...”

Amid the Ōtsutsuki’s shouts, Madara’s second strike fell, slicing the planet in two.

The energy sword vanished, and Madara smashed a fist into the split planet, sending a shockwave that shattered the halves completely.

The ten Ōtsutsuki were enraged.