Chapter 187: The Buddha and the Beast
Dance, Rakshasa.
Show me your strength. Your potential.
In this world, there is no one besides Hashirama who matters in my eyes.
Entertain me. Prove yourself worthy.
On the distant hilltop, Uchiha Madara's ancient form trembled—not with weakness, but with something that had been dormant for decades. Excitement. Anticipation. The blood in his veins, long grown cold with age and isolation, was finally beginning to burn again.
If only—if ONLY—this body were still in its prime. If only he could descend to that battlefield himself, meet this boy face to face, and test his mettle with his own hands.
But even from afar, even through the eyes of a controlled beast, this was… exhilarating.
On the battlefield, King Mu had stopped its indiscriminate destruction. Its massive head was fixed on Ragnar, its Sharingan eyes burning with malevolent purpose.
Through those three tomoe, Ragnar could sense it—a presence behind the beast. A consciousness lurking in the darkness, watching, judging, controlling.
Uchiha Madara.
The name crystallized in Ragnar's mind with cold certainty. Only one Uchiha in history could seize control of a fully manifested Tailed Beast and bend it to their will. Only one had ever achieved true unity with these ancient creatures.
But why? Ragnar wondered. Why target the Three Villages? Why reveal yourself through this attack?
The answer, when it came, was simpler than he expected.
He's testing me.
A strange calm settled over Ragnar. All his training, all his battles, all his relentless pursuit of power—it had all led to moments like this. To standing against legends. To proving that his ambition was not empty pride.
If Madara wants a show, he thought, then let him watch.
His hands came together with a thunderous SLAP.
*"Golden Body Transformation: Manifest Buddha!"
Golden light exploded from his form.
It began as a faint glow on his skin, then intensified, brightened, became blinding. Ragnar became a sun—a radiant, burning presence at the center of the battlefield.
From the void, a sound emerged. Distant at first, then growing. Chanting. The deep, resonant intonation of ancient sutras, echoing across the plains. The sound carried peace, calm, transcendence. Ninja who had been frozen in terror felt their hearts steady, their fear quiet, their spirits soothed.
Behind Ragnar, something took shape.
Golden. Massive. Divine.
The Buddha emerged.
Last time, it had been sixty meters—an awe-inspiring giant, but still within mortal comprehension. This time, it was more. Over one hundred meters of pure, radiant gold, towering over the Five-Tails like a parent over a child. Behind its head, a halo of golden light floated—a mark of true transcendence, of power that had moved beyond mere technique into something sacred.
Ragnar's body rose, merging with the Buddha's center. He became its heart, its mind, its will.
The Buddha opened its eyes.
And the world held its breath.
"Iwa's ninja fell to their knees.
Not from gravity. Not from fear. From reverence.
"A god," one whispered, tears streaming down his face. "A true god has descended!"
"Buddha… the Buddha has come to this world!"
Even Suna ninja, raised in a different spiritual tradition, found their knees bending. Some force beyond their control—beyond any control—pressed them toward the earth in worship.
The Third Kazekage watched his ninja kneel and could not stop them. His eyes were fixed on the golden colossus, and behind the horror, behind the shock, something else was forming.
A thought. A desperate, mad, beautiful thought.
If that power… if that presence… could be turned… could be used…
He pushed the thought away. For now. But it lingered at the edges of his mind, waiting.
In the Konoha camp, the Sannin stared in stunned silence.
"Stronger than last time," Orochimaru murmured. "So much stronger."
Jiraiya's jaw worked, but no words came. Finally, he managed: "I need to train. I NEED to train. Mount Myōboku. The toad sages. Ten summons, nine failures—I have to get serious!"
Tsunade said nothing. Her eyes were fixed on the golden figure at the Buddha's heart, and her heart swelled with something too large to name.
Ragnar. My little brother.
On the hilltop, Madara's composure finally broke.
"YES!" The roar tore from his throat, raw and powerful despite his failing body. "YES! THIS IS IT! THIS IS WHAT I CAME TO SEE!"
His ancient eyes blazed with a fire that had been cold for decades.
"The Buddha! The power of the Senju! And the will—the will of the Uchiha! This boy carries both! He IS both!"
Black Zetsu watched with growing unease. This Rakshasa grew too fast. Too powerful. If he could not be used, he would have to be removed.
But for now, he said nothing.
On the battlefield, King Mu faced the Buddha.
For the first time since its manifestation, the Five-Tails seemed to hesitate. Its massive form, seventy meters of pure destruction, suddenly looked small before the golden colossus.
But the Sharingan in its eyes flared, and hesitation became rage.
*"ROOOOAR!"
King Mu charged.
Its massive horns—weapons that had once pierced the Eight-Tails—lowered like spears. Its five tails lashed behind it, propelling it forward with terrifying speed. The ground shattered beneath its hooves. The very air screamed as it was displaced by the beast's mass.
The Buddha watched its approach with serene, compassionate eyes.
Then it raised one massive golden fist.
*"Shockwave: Buddha's Wrathful Fist."
The fist descended.
Not fast. Not rushed. Simply… inevitable.
*BOOM!
The impact was cataclysmic. Shockwaves radiated outward in visible rings, flattening everything for miles. Mountains in the distance cracked. Rivers vaporized. The earth itself seemed to flex under the force.
King Mu was hurled backward like a child's toy. It tumbled across the devastated landscape, carving new canyons with its passage, before finally—finally—coming to a stop.
Before it could rise, the Buddha moved.
One golden hand reached down, massive fingers closing around the Five-Tails' neck. It lifted the ancient beast as easily as a man might lift a dog.
*"Roooar…?" The sound was different now. Uncertain. Afraid.
King Mu struggled. Its tails thrashed, each blow powerful enough to level mountains, but against the golden flesh of the Buddha, they might as well have been whispers. Its hooves kicked. Its horns jabbed. Nothing worked.
The Buddha held it aloft, serene and terrible, and looked into its Sharingan eyes.
And through those eyes, Ragnar looked back at the man in the darkness.
Is this enough? that gaze asked. Is this enough to prove myself?
(End of Chapter)
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