Thank you all so much for your support!!
--------------------------------------------------
Before long, a bright, eager voice rang out from beyond the bamboo grove, carrying the same barely contained excitement as always.
"Founding Patriarch! Founding Patriarch! I'm here!"
Indra hiked up his robes and hurried into the grove. On any normal day, Manji would already be waiting by the boulder—but today, the familiar figure was nowhere to be seen.
The bamboo leaves seemed quieter than usual. Too quiet. Even the insects had gone silent. A creeping chill climbed Indra's spine without invitation.
"Hm? Where's the Patriarch?"
His brow furrowed. His footsteps slowed instinctively, each one lighter than the last. Two more cautious steps forward.
And his pupils collapsed.
His heart seized—as though an invisible fist had clenched around it mid-beat.
There, on the clearing beside the boulder—
Manji lay crumpled on the ground, drenched in blood. His robes were soaked through—crimson so vivid it burned the eyes. No breath. No movement. No chakra.
"F-Founding… Patriarch…?"
Indra's voice shattered into fragments. His legs turned to stone. He dropped to a trembling crouch and reached out to check for breath—but his fingertips found only ice. Not a trace of warmth.
"The Founding Patriarch is… dead?"
"He's dead…"
Indra staggered backward—two lurching steps—eyes wide with a horror that swallowed everything else. His mind went blank. The world itself seemed to crack and tilt.
The man who had always been there—patient, warm, guiding him through every technique with that quietly amused expression—was just… gone?
Grief hit like a flood wall.
Indra threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around Manji's cold body, tears crashing down in an uncontrollable torrent—each one leaving a dark stain on the blood-soaked robes.
"Founding Patriarch! FOUNDING PATRIARCH! How can you be dead?? Please, don't leave me!"
His voice tore apart, shredded by sobs.
Worse than losing a parent. Worse than anything he'd ever felt.
His arms tightened around Manji's body as though he could hold the man's soul in place through sheer desperation. The composed, preternaturally calm boy of every other day had dissolved completely, replaced by a child drowning in grief.
And in the deepest pit of that agony, something erupted.
A savage, churning force surged from behind Indra's eyes, crashing through every barrier like a dam breaking.
Flash—
Crimson irises blazed to life. Three jet-black tomoe materialized in each eye—spinning slowly, hypnotically, radiating a cold and terrible beauty.
The three-tomoe Sharingan—fully awakened.
Indra's head snapped up. Those newborn crimson eyes blazed with volcanic fury and seething hatred. Chakra boiled off his body in visible waves.
"Founding Patriarch, I'll AVENGE you! Whoever did this... I'll drown them in their own blood!"
His fists clenched until the knuckles cracked. The vow ripped from his throat like a war cry.
And then, a voice materialized from thin air, cutting through the grief-soaked silence with absurd casualness:
"Type 1 to resurrect the Founding Patriarch."
Indra froze. Every muscle locked. His tear-blurred eyes darted wildly in every direction—half-convinced his own grief had driven him to hallucination.
"ONE! ONE! I type one! BRING HIM BACK!"
He screamed it to the sky, to the earth, to anything that would listen.
The instant the words left his mouth—warm, gentle laughter rose from directly behind him.
Indra whipped around.
And there stood Manji—perfectly composed, robes immaculate, not a speck of blood anywhere—smiling at him with quiet amusement.
"Found… Founding Patriarch!!!"
Shock. Joy. Disbelief. Indra's face cycled through all three in the span of a heartbeat—tears still streaking his cheeks even as a brilliant, uncontrollable grin split across his face.
He launched himself forward and wrapped his arms around Manji's waist, burying his face in the man's robes, his whole body shaking. His voice came out thick and nasal from crying.
"You're okay! Thank god you're OKAY! That voice was real—you actually came back!"
Manji felt the boy trembling against him—felt the hot tears soaking through the fabric—and sighed with a mixture of helpless amusement and something warmer than he'd expected.
He reached down and patted Indra's back gently. "Stronger than I anticipated, jumping straight to three tomoe on the first awakening."
His fingertip rose and lightly tapped the center of Indra's forehead.
Indra blinked, looking up through damp lashes. "Founding Patriarch—what do you mean?"
Manji smiled, formed a quick seal, and a disc of crystalline water materialized in the air—a perfect mirror.
Reflected in its surface was Indra's face—and those eyes. Crimson irises. Three slowly spinning tomoe in each, dark as obsidian, sharp as blades.
"This is…"
Indra stared, unconsciously blinking several times before realizing his entire field of vision had transformed. Everything was impossibly sharp—the veins on every bamboo leaf, the invisible currents of the wind, the finest details of the world laid bare in stunning clarity.
Manji watched the boy's stunned expression and began to explain—the origin of the Sharingan, its nature, its power. He also revealed that everything Indra had just witnessed was nothing more than a genjutsu he'd crafted.
By the time Manji finished, Indra's face had gone scarlet—embarrassment and indignation fighting for dominance. He scrubbed furiously at the tear tracks on his cheeks, his voice carrying a rare edge of genuine anger.
"Founding Patriarch—please don't ever do that again. I'd rather never have this power than see something happen to you."
Manji studied those reddened ears—and reached out once more, tapping Indra's forehead with a single finger, his eyes carrying a gentle warmth.
"But wasn't the whole reason you sought me out… because of power?"
Indra froze.
'He's right...'
He'd pursued strength—and that pursuit had led him to the Founding Patriarch.
But if the Patriarch had truly died… then all the power in the world would mean nothing against the void it left behind.
"So remember—on the road to gaining strength, you will always lose something along the way."
Manji spoke lightly, a quiet smile on his lips.
Indra stared at him—half-understanding, half-lost—looking down at his own hands, then back up at Manji's face.
"How is your father's health lately?"
Manji asked, shifting the subject with practiced ease.
"Father is… aging quickly."
Something dimmed in Indra's eyes.
Manji felt the familiar weight settle in his chest. The child he'd once taught was becoming an old man. Soon—he would watch another friend depart.
"Indra, don't come here anymore. I won't be returning."
The words fell gently, but with finality.
"Why, Master? Did I do something wrong?"
Indra's voice cracked with confusion.
Manji chuckled softly. "You've been an excellent student. There's simply nothing left for me to teach you."
He'd passed on the hand-sign system. Everything else—Indra would forge on his own.
The only reason Manji had invested this much time was to cultivate a successor to Hagoromo—a bridge connecting him to the human world.
Indra straightened immediately and bowed with deep, formal reverence.
"I will carry the Founding Patriarch's teachings for the rest of my life. And when the day comes that I lead Ninshū—I will honor your name above all else!"
Manji's eyebrow rose. This boy is already certain he'll inherit Ninshū?
"Oh? You seem quite confident about becoming its leader."
Indra's smile was sharp with self-assurance. "Of course. Thanks to the Founding Patriarch's hand-sign system, I'm the one who gave everyone real power. My standing in Ninshū couldn't be higher."
"Father will only pass the succession to his bloodline. And Asura is too naive—too soft. Only I have the vision to carry Ninshū forward."
"So the old man will choose me. There's no other option."
His conviction was absolute, unshakable.
In his own eyes, the math was simple: Hagoromo had given people philosophy. He had given them power. Between ideals and results—results won every time.
And Asura? Too innocent... Too trusting... Utterly incapable of leading.
--------------------------------------------------
~ 15 Advanced Chapters Available on Patreon!
https://p-atreon.com/dragonnx
(Just remove the hyphen to access Patreon normally.)