The sun was descending behind the scarlet rooftops of Konoha, its last embers bleeding across the sky like fire on silk.
Inside the grand Uchiha estate—once quiet, now the heart of Konoha's new regime—Indra Uchiha sat cross-legged on a low platform of polished stone.
He did not need to speak. His very presence made the air still.
Mikoto and Izumi stood nearby, silent, their expressions calm yet reverent. The aura around Indra had grown beyond mortal comprehension—dark, commanding, and divine. They no longer looked at him as clan kin but as something higher, something that eclipsed the notion of family or rank.
They served tea, arranged scrolls, and kept order in the mansion as if performing rituals before a god. Indra didn't command their loyalty anymore—it had become instinctive.
The house was silent except for the faint crackle of burning incense.
A cold breeze passed through the window screens, fluttering the ends of old scrolls scattered before him—scrolls seized from the Root archives, many written in secret codes, old tongue, and forbidden seals.
Indra's sharp violet eyes traced each page with a focus that could cut through steel.
The words on the scroll spoke of chakra transformation, nature fusion, and mystical balance.
He muttered to himself, almost whispering a truth he already knew:
> "To command the earth, one must understand patience.
To command water, one must understand change.
But to command both… one must understand life."
A faint smirk curved his lips.
"The old fools feared what they could not create," he murmured, referring to Danzo and Hiruzen's secret experiments. "They mimicked the gods but lacked divinity."
His hand lifted slowly, chakra forming in his palm—swirling like mist, flickering between blue and green hues. He was trying to blend two opposite natures—Earth and Water—to give birth to the legendary Wood Release.
But the process was fierce.
The air trembled. Dust rose.
Sweat trickled from his forehead as his chakra fought against itself.
The floor cracked under his feet, and a wave of pressure filled the entire room.
Mikoto took a step forward instinctively. "Lord Indra—"
"Don't interfere." His tone was calm but absolute.
She froze immediately.
The chakra in Indra's body surged like a raging storm. The floor around him rippled with unstable energy, the earth bending to his will and the moisture in the air vibrating as if answering an ancient call.
And then… silence.
For a moment, nothing happened.
But the next instant, a small sprout broke through the cracked tiles beneath him—fragile yet luminous, glowing faintly with green chakra.
Indra opened his eyes, and a rare flicker of satisfaction appeared.
A seed.
It was not yet Wood Release, but it was the sign that the fusion of attributes had begun.
He looked at the sprout and chuckled quietly.
> "Even creation begins from struggle," he said. "The gods carved life from chaos. Why should I be any different?"
Izumi, who had been observing quietly, lowered her gaze.
The weight of his words, calm yet filled with terrifying conviction, made her shiver.
As he stood, the air seemed to bend around him again. His chakra—still vast from his Ashura Template—radiated with such intensity that the shadows in the room seemed to bow to him.
He walked toward the large mirror near the wall, observing his reflection.
The faint traces of the Rinnegan's power still shimmered within his eyes, now quiet but not asleep.
Power, knowledge, and divine will—these had become his pillars.
> "In the Dao De Jing, Lao Tzu said: 'The greatest virtue is to follow the way of nature.'
I will follow it not by surrendering to it—but by becoming it."
He clenched his fist, and the sprout beneath his feet grew instantly into a small sapling before withering away as his control wavered.
"Not perfect yet," he murmured. "But soon."
Mikoto quietly approached and placed a tray of scrolls beside him.
"These were the last of the sealing techniques recovered from Root's archives, my lord," she said respectfully.
Indra nodded without looking.
"Keep the rest locked. Only I may access them. If anyone asks, say they were destroyed."
"Yes, Lord Indra." Her voice was obedient, calm, and composed—no hint of resistance.
He turned and looked at her for a long moment. Her loyalty wasn't blind—it was bound by the invisible gravity of his power.
To defy Indra now was to defy fate itself.
> "The wise conquer not through swords but through spirit," he quoted softly, recalling an ancient Sanskrit line:
"'Atmanam viddhi'—Conquer the self, and the universe bows in return."
Izumi watched as Indra returned to his meditation position.
Every time he closed his eyes, the entire mansion seemed to hold its breath.
Hours passed. The moon rose high.
Indra's mind wandered deeper into the flow of chakra—an endless ocean where energy and consciousness merged.
He visualized the balance of opposites—earth's firmness and water's fluidity—and tried to make them dance together.
But it wasn't easy. Even with his divine bloodline and the Ashura Template, true balance required absolute willpower.
He thought of Yamato—Konoha's artificial Wood Release user. His existence was proof that the art could be replicated, even if weakly. Indra wanted to perfect it—not as an imitation, but as the birthright of his soul.
Opening his eyes, he called out coldly, "Toru."
The loyal subordinate entered immediately. "Yes, Lord Indra?"
"Bring me the one called Yamato," Indra commanded. "The man Danzo used as an experiment. I want to see the results with my own eyes."
Toru hesitated for only a second before nodding. "At once, my lord."
When he left, Indra turned toward the moonlit window. The village lights shimmered in the distance, each house unaware that a new god was preparing to ascend among them.
> "Power is not given," he whispered, voice soft but sharp as a blade.
"Power is taken.
And I have taken everything."
He closed his eyes again, continuing his internal cultivation. The chakra within him circulated like divine fire, melting away all fatigue.
Every breath he took resonated with a pulse of life—the merging of nature energy and bloodline heritage.
> "In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna said:
'Action is greater than inaction, for without action, even the body's life cannot be sustained.'"
He smiled faintly.
"Then I shall act. I will not meditate in fear of sin like the sages. I will rewrite the very law of chakra."
Outside, the wind carried whispers through the Uchiha district—rumors of Indra's growing might, his experiments, and his unshakable will.
Some called him a tyrant. Others called him a savior.
But no one could deny one truth: he was inevitable.
When Toru returned, Yamato followed—nervous, silent, and visibly sweating.
The once-loyal ANBU member of Konoha, now walking through the lion's den.
Indra did not move as Yamato entered.
Only when he was close enough did Indra finally speak.
The silence within Indra Uchiha's training chamber carried the weight of destiny. The air was thick, vibrating with the faint scent of earth and the distant coolness of water. Indra stood at the center of the large wooden floor, scrolls and papers scattered around him — each one filled with secrets, diagrams, and notes he had seized from the disbanded Root division.
Before him, Yamato stood nervously, his every breath shallow. His mind was clouded with fear, for he had heard countless tales of Indra's cruelty, ruthlessness, and unpredictable nature. In Yamato's eyes, this man was not just a Uchiha — he was a walking calamity wrapped in human flesh.
Indra, however, did not bother to hide the smirk that crept across his lips. "You don't need to look like that, Yamato," he said, his voice calm yet commanding. "I won't eat you or something."
The words were casual, even light-hearted, but they made Yamato's skin crawl.
Inside his mind, he screamed silently: "Who says such things? This man… he's a lunatic! He kills without blinking and jokes as if death is mere entertainment."
Despite the storm inside him, Yamato managed to keep a polite smile plastered on his face. His instinct for survival was strong, and he bowed slightly. "I-I understand, Lord Indra…"
Indra's crimson eyes gleamed like burning rubies. He could read Yamato's thoughts effortlessly. Every flicker of doubt, every trace of fear was as visible as daylight to him. Yet, he did not expose the man. He found it amusing instead — like watching a mouse pretending to be brave before a dragon.
He leaned back against the wooden chair and spoke, his tone soft but carrying the pressure of authority.
"You have the Wood Release technique, don't you? And the training manuals that came with it."
The room instantly felt colder. Yamato's heart skipped a beat.
That information was supposed to be top-secret — hidden deep within the confidential archives of Konoha. Only the Hokage and select ANBU knew of it. For Indra to know meant only one thing: he had already seen everything.
Yamato's face turned pale. He quickly lowered his head, speaking in a trembling voice, "Yes, I… I do possess the Wood Release… but it's not natural. My ability was artificially created. It's far weaker than the power of the First Hokage, Lord Hashirama."
Indra's smile deepened, a quiet and confident curve that held both mockery and fascination. "I know. I've read all your files, Yamato. I know every injection, every experiment that turned you into what you are. But I don't care about that."
He stood, his cloak swaying as he took a slow step forward. His presence alone felt like a wave crashing against Yamato's spirit. "What I need," Indra continued, "is your guidance — in understanding the way of the Wood Release."
Yamato blinked in disbelief. "Y-You want me to… train you?"
Indra nodded slightly. "Indeed. You will instruct me in every process of molding earth and water chakra. Every breathing rhythm, every energy circulation path. You will not hide a single thing."
Even though Yamato was confused about why Indra, of all people, would be so desperate to learn something he could easily take by force, he dared not question it aloud. He only nodded obediently, "Yes, Lord Indra."
A faint light flashed in Indra's eyes — not the light of mercy, but ambition. The kind of brilliance that burned through heavens and crushed all beneath it.
He closed his eyes and sat cross-legged on the floor. His hands formed precise seals as he began channeling his chakra. The room trembled faintly.
Yamato stood beside him, his voice trembling as he guided the Uchiha prodigy.
"First, you must calm your spiritual energy. Earth chakra is heavy, stable, and dense. Feel the stillness beneath your feet… let the weight of the ground merge with your own."
Indra inhaled slowly. His chakra surged and began to resonate with the soil beneath. The wood floor creaked under the growing pressure of his energy.
"Now," Yamato continued, "summon the flow of water chakra — fluid, calm, yet adaptable. Let it merge with the stillness of earth within you."
Indra's control was terrifying. Even Yamato was stunned. The combination of the two chakras began to circulate around Indra's body in perfect harmony. The air rippled like waves disturbed by divine power.
Beads of sweat rolled down Yamato's forehead. "This man… his chakra flow is monstrous. It's even more refined than any I've ever seen. He's not a human… he's a reincarnation of destruction itself."
Indra's mind, however, was perfectly calm. As he felt the two natures blending, he remembered an ancient Chinese quote he once read among the Root archives:
> "To control nature, one must first become nature itself. The mountain does not move, but it shapes the rivers that bow before it."
That line echoed in his heart as he pushed the fusion further. The pressure intensified. Dust rose. Cracks spread across the walls. Yamato could barely stand.
But Indra continued, his voice a whisper filled with unshakable will. "Wood… release…"
Thin green roots emerged from the cracks in the floor, trembling slightly before fading. The first attempt was incomplete — but it was a start.
Yamato looked in awe. Even with his artificial body, he could never produce that kind of resonance in his first try.
Indra opened his eyes, his Sharingan glowing faintly. "Again."
The process repeated. Again and again. For hours, Indra trained relentlessly — adjusting the chakra flow, balancing the elements, refining the connection between life and death.
Every failure was met with calm analysis. Every attempt grew stronger. The faint sprouts of wood became thicker, longer, and more vibrant with each repetition.
"The patience of the mountain, the adaptability of the river…" Indra murmured. "When they unite, creation begins."
In that moment, he remembered an old Indian saying he had once read carved into a stone tablet in an ancient ruin:
> "Within the stillness of earth and the flow of water lies the rhythm of creation — the song through which gods build and destroy worlds."
He smiled faintly. "So that's the key…"
Hours turned into night. Sweat soaked his robes, yet his focus never wavered. Mikoto and Izumi occasionally peeked from the doorway, their faces a mix of admiration and silent fear.
They had seen Indra's power before, but witnessing his dedication to mastering a new nature transformation was something entirely different. His eyes were filled with an unrelenting fire — a thirst for supremacy that bordered on madness.
Finally, as dawn began to break, a faint green light filled the chamber.
From Indra's palms, a single sturdy wooden branch burst forth, its surface smooth and pulsing with natural energy.
The chakra in the room harmonized, calm yet majestic. Even Yamato stepped back instinctively.
Indra looked at the creation before him — his expression unreadable. Then, a faint smile crossed his lips. "So this is the beginning."
He released the technique, the branch dissolving into dust.
"Yamato," he said quietly. "You did well today. Continue guiding me until I perfect it."
Yamato bowed deeply, still trembling. "Y-Yes, Lord Indra."
As Yamato left, Indra gazed at his own hands — the hands that would soon master both life and destruction. His Sharingan glowed faintly as he whispered to himself:
> "The river carves its path through stone not by power, but by persistence."
He clenched his fist. "And I will carve my name into the very roots of this world."
Outside, the first light of morning fell upon Konoha. A new era was awakening — one that would tremble beneath the will of Indra Uchiha.
> "When the tree of power takes root, even gods must bow before its shade."
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End of Chapter
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