If we're talking about pure combat ability, the Great Elder still has it; most likely, he remains a combatant above Jonin level, much like the legendary Eternal Genin, Maruboshi Kosuke.
But for him to take action would mean his already battered old body would have to endure the agony of reopening fresh wounds. If suffering can be avoided, there is no need to seek it out.
After cramming medical ninjutsu knowledge these past few days, Uchiha Gen also knew just how poor the medical standards of the shinobi world were let alone twenty or thirty years ago.
Not to mention that Tsunade has not yet created the Mitotic Regeneration technique that can restore organs and tissue; his injuries are essentially incurable.
"Forget it. These old stories have no meaning now; the future belongs to you youngsters."
The Great Elder sighed and waved his hand.
"Continue, you two. I will watch. Do not worry about hurting each other; I am old, but a few tricks remain."
"Yes, Great Elder."
"Yes, Grandfather."
The boy and girl nodded to the elder and stepped onto the training ground together. Without a word, they simultaneously formed the Seal of Confrontation.
"Little Gen, here I come!"
Uchiha Mikoto stood daintily opposite Gen, smiling. The two-tomoe Sharingan reappeared in her eyes; her right hand drew a gleaming short blade from behind her waist, while her left settled quietly on her ninja pouch.
"Bring it, Sister Mikoto."
Adopting the stance of Uchiha-style Kenjutsu, Gen slowly drew the new shinobi sword at his hip.
This was the perfect chance to familiarize himself with the Young Madara card's abilities just like in a competitive game: same character, same stats, and same mechanics, yet the outcome depends entirely on the player's skill, awareness, and practice.
Far away, the Great Elder had already activated his three-tomoe Sharingan to observe the fight. When Gen took his opening stance, an inexplicable sense of familiarity surged through the elder's heart.
Clang!
Mikoto flung several shuriken; Gen's eyes were quick, his sword flicked, and the spinning stars were knocked aside.
In the next instant, Mikoto drifted like falling cherry petals, drawing her blade in a lightning-fast thrust at him.
So fast!
Startled, Gen dropped his weight to steady his center and, gripping the sword in both hands, slashed upward from below. The two blades met with another sharp metallic ring.
I can see it, and my body can keep up.
Gen's mind settled at once. Mikoto really was strong. In the original timeline, she would become a Jonin with a three-tomoe Sharingan, likely awakening that third tomoe by nineteen the age she gave birth to Itachi. Though not yet sixteen, she was already a formidable Tokubetsu Jonin.
Before, he would have retreated to gain distance, relying on shurikenjutsu and superior ninjutsu to maneuver for an opening though victory would still have been unlikely. Now, with the Young Madara card, Gen was certain he could meet her head-on even against her two-tomoe Sharingan.
With a thought, he twisted his waist and whipped his arm, the blade slicing the air in a horizontal cut. Mikoto, anticipating this, flipped nimbly and covertly launched three senbon at his brow, throat, and heart.
His next move caught her off guard.
Though the senbon were stealthily thrown, she assumed his Sharingan would spot them and he would dodge backward or sideways. Forcing him to give ground would create distance, letting her form seals and pull the fight into her preferred rhythm.
But Mikoto hadn't expected Gen not to retreat; instead, he advanced, leaping straight at her in a sudden burst of speed, his sword sweeping out.
"Uchiha Style: Sword Leap Slash!"
At that moment, the watching elder's eyes widened, his three tomoe spinning faster as they reflected his inner turmoil. Different time, different person, yet the intent and aura behind the movement were eerily alike.
"Madara..."
The elder murmured a name one once so mighty that it brought despair to all, one that every Uchiha took pride in.
This boy feels like Madara especially a young Madara!
The Great Elder was close in age to Senju Tobirama and Uchiha Izuna, only slightly younger than Uchiha Madara himself. Though not as brilliant as the two brothers, he had been a top-tier prodigy who often sparred and fought alongside them. No one still alive in Konoha knew Young Madara's combat style better than he.
"To resemble him so closely..."
The Great Elder watched two massive Great Fireball Techniques collide in the air, the daze in his eyes quickly receding.
Fortunately, the resemblance was mainly in close-quarters swordplay; in ninjutsu and other areas, though there was a faint flavor of Madara, the difference was still noticeable. Years of training and Orochimaru's guidance had allowed Gen to develop his own style. Their temperaments also diverged clearly.
Madara was overwhelmingly forceful and fierce, domineering yet meticulous an unmistakably intense personal style whereas Gen felt different.
Still... the similarity is striking.
The Great Elder suddenly felt a touch of gratitude. He was thankful that the despicable white-haired devil, Senju Tobirama, had died eighteen years ago.
The man had possessed a certain magnanimity, yet his methods were underhanded and his fear of the Uchiha Clan ran bone-deep; he and Hashirama had clashed countless times with Madara and Izuna in their youth.
There is a saying that if someone resembles a lost love by even thirty percent, one loses their composure; today, Gen's resemblance to a young Madara was far more than thirty or fifty percent.
Had Tobirama lived to see this, he would have lost sleep that night and struck at Gen by the next day using every tactic at his disposal. Luckily, he was dead, and the few old-timers who once witnessed Madara's youthful prowess had mostly passed as well. Those who remained, like himself, had long since stepped back from the front lines.