CHAPTER 10

Obito stopped running when the child mentioned the Hagoromo clan. The name-drop almost made him stumble into the sea. For once, he was speechless and astounded by this discovery; amazed by the secret his ancestor has kept from him for years. In all his travelling, not once has he come across a Hagoromo. He only heard stories about them when he was a kid; such stories were passed down from the lips of his ancestors that he believed were just old tales meant to frighten the children off. Before the hidden villages existed, the Hagoromo was one of the earliest clans during the war-torn era. They were known as a clan of heartless savages – killing their enemies in the worst manner of cruelty, which was practically inhuman to anyone's eyes. In battles, they fought alongside the Uchiha clan to oppose the Senju clan. A once strong and fearless ally of the Uchiha has now resided on an unknown island and away from the Shinobi world.

"Give me your hand," said the child as she held it out to him. "You're not a Hagoromo, and you lack their marking. This genjutsu wall you're experiencing around you is our first line of defense against the outsiders, especially the shinobi. You won't be able to enter this land if you don't have their marking."

She showed her tattooed hand – a shaded circle within an incomplete one.

"Is that the Hagoromo's symbol?" he furrowed at its odd design.

"No. It's a rune to assist our sight; it allows us to see invisible stuff," she answered bluntly.

"A limitation rune. Any skilled tattoo master can imitate that marking and grant access to this place."

"That is impossible," she chuckled. "The marking is uniquely mixed with the Hagoromo's blood, and only with their blood we are allowed to enter this land."

Obito took the child's hand as she led the way. Grandly, what he saw was no longer an open sea, but a huge island surrounded by bountiful greens, a lonely mountain and canopied trees that stretched across the undulating hills. As he stepped onto the white sandy beach, he immediately sensed a strong force in his body. It was as though gravity held his chakra down. He kneeled to the ground, holding the pressure on his weight.

"You felt that," she said in a manner of obvious.

"What trickery is this?!" he demanded, activating his Sharingan to check his body only to realize that he was not able to. He glanced at the child; her wary eyes were calculating. The seriousness in her expression said it all – he was vulnerable, and she could kill him at any moment.

"It's just a precaution," she warned and curled her finger as a gesture to follow her. "Come."

The path began at the base of the hill. They walked into the woods that was filled with vines and fir trees. Huge granites were heavily arranged along the stony path, producing echoes of sounds to warn others should their enemy reach the shores. Obito browsed the sky. The sun has started to set; its lowlight slowly filtering through the clouds, cresting over the nearby hills, and casting shadows on the deep valleys below.

"We must hurry; twilight is upon us," she rushed to ascent a small hillside, which oddly resembled the main entrance of a hidden village.

As the last light filtered through the leaves, fireflies started to emerge from the woods. They were floating around like some mystical lights, illuminating the path to the hidden village. When he reached the village, he was truly amazed by the gigantic trees that were as huge as any tall buildings, with wooden cottages built snuggly inside its trunks. And despite the beauty of this place, the villagers were not seemed to be very welcoming. Men sheltering their women and children in their cottages, away from his sight. They held farming tools in their hands as they continued to glare at him with suspicion on their expression.

"They don't seem…" he paused, searching for the right word to say, "friendly."

"Forgive them for being wary of you. It's not in their nature to display such conduct, and it's not their fault when your kind destroyed their homes."

"What are you accusing me of here?" Something in her words made him irritated with annoyance.

"Accused you? Did I ever accuse you? I don't think so." She rolled her eyes, pretending to be dumbfounded. "I simply accused your kind – the shinobi. Did you know that these people once believe in your system? The shinobi swore an oath to protect them. Hearing this, they provided aid and support – medical, food, water, and shelter. Unfortunately, such agreements had brought to them more wars, bloodshed, and death. These people don't wield chakra. They're just normal human beings who managed to escape and survive the horrible wars. The Hagoromo labelled them as the lost people."

Refugees of wars, he thought and wondered why Madara would send him here to recruit them, knowing that these people would not bring victory.

"The Hagoromo received a new batch of refugees every year, but due to the recent war, the number increased – staggeringly. These people sacrificed only one shinobi as payment to pass through, which is unacceptable because trading lives are supposed to be equally exchanged. Hence why I had suggested a game of battle royale among themselves – spilling their blood and chakra into the sea as payment. I got into trouble for that, but luckily, I was forgiven; never to disobey and create new law ever again."

"What was the law supposedly?" he asked.

She paused for a while before answering, "to execute them all."

She's good, he sensed her attempts to place him on a guilt trip. Perhaps she knew that he was the one who was responsible for the Fourth Shinobi War. The term 'your kind' was a simplification of saying that he was part of the blame without saying the obvious that he was to blame.

Smart girl, he thought.

The child further explained that the refugees stayed on the ground level, whereas the Hagoromo clan lived within the inland cliffs. And once again, Obito could not stop absorbing the natural beauty of this village. Waterfalls created a steady pattern of endless rhythm, dividing the cliff into two and allowing the fresh water to stream from the mountain to the village. There was a dense mat of ferns and moss covering the stone walls, giving the air an earthy ambience and age. At the peak, he found more cottages within the trunks of the giant trees, but the designs were more defined and beautifully crafted. Unlike the lost people in simple clothes, the Hagoromo clan were dressed elegantly – the women in kimono, whereas the men in hakama and haori. Such display alone presented the differential of classes and social norms between the refugee and the Hagoromo clan. And despite the differences, he found the Hagoromo to be quite at the odds – all of their hairs were platinum blond.

As he made it through the hallway, there were hushes, whispers, and phrases of 'Uchiha' and 'Madara-dono'. The Hagoromo seemed to recognize which bloodline he belonged to even though they have never met or known him before. Their glances followed him as the child led him into the grand hall. There, he noticed a majestic throne made of iron situated at the end of it. Just as he drew closer, the grand doors burst open. A man – approximately his age – approached them with a powerful stride. Like his clansmen, his hair was also platinum blond – though short – with well-built features and very tall. He wore partial dragon-scaled armor from shoulder to toes, which seemed to be overprepared to welcome a guest. The expression he gave, however, was cold.

The child kneeled before the man, whereas Obito did not bother to.

"An Uchiha. I felt his presence the moment he stepped into the borders," the man said as he redirected his attention from the child to his guest. "Return to your station, Mariko, and should more refugees arrive, kill them all."

"As you wish, Ryūjin-sama," the child bow before leaving.

For a while, neither of them uttered a word. The man simply walked away with Obito following closely behind. They passed through multiple hallways like an endless maze. Guardsmen stood strictly at every turn.

"Your clansman – the girl – she's very much a little charmer," Obito commented sarcastically to strike the first conversation.

"I doubt it. She enjoys implementing pain on others and likes to watch them suffer. Has she mentioned what she did to a group of refugees? If so, by now you should know that she's a sadist," he countered. "Besides, she's not a clansman of mine, nor any. I was there when her mother gave birth to her at the borders. There was no shinobi to pay the debt. So, her mother decided to sacrifice her life… in payment for a daughter's survival."

"Such… atrocious details from a Hagoromo without a proper introduction," his brows twitched as he sensed a similar vibe between Sasuke and Ryūjin's snobbish attitude.

"Introduction isn't necessary until the revelation of your name and identity are firstly known to the Lord of Hagoromo. My father," he paused in his steps and turned to his guest, "his rule is absolute. Despite his offensive language, I expect you to mind your manners and etiquettes when you speak to him."

Well said for a sadistic asshole, he thought and caught a short moment of temper in the Hagoromo's green eyes.

Ryūjin opened the iron gate and walked down the spiralling stairs with Obito staying close behind. Aged walls were damped and stained with fungal growth; the misty air was surrounded with the smell of decay as they went deeper into the dungeon. Dim light finally cast, setting aglow on the aged walls as they made their way through. The walls were cobblestone, with moss and mildew growing from each crevice. Chains hung on the walls, draping with hammered metal shackled to the floor. The cool air hung with the scent of suffering and death; and on that scent of death, Obito witnessed hundreds of human bodies gruesomely impaled by the black rods. Some of them were vertically impaled – suspended by these rods, leaving gravity to drain their blood onto the floor.

"I'm walking on a pool of human blood," Obito pointed out the obvious.

"Don't let that frighten you from meeting the lord," he replied with a lack of concern.

Tired of the Hagoromo's snobbish manner, Obito decided to glance at the surroundings. He noticed a mass of dead White Zetsu amongst the pile of human bodies.

There was a movement at the center of the dungeon. A man busied himself with impaling and dissecting the victims' bodies before stabbing his hunting knife on the wooden table for a short break. Now, he stood before Obito, tearing his mask away to study his disfigured features.

"So, it is true! You have finally returned!" claimed the man who seemed to be in his mid-fifties. He took a step closer for observation. "Interesting… Eyes of Sharingan and Rinnegan."

The man then returned to his activity, dragging a dead body, and tossing it at his guest's feet.

Despite a dead body presented at his feet, Obito stood still. He did not move an inch because a movement was a sign of fear. He knew better not to mess around in a presence of a tyrant.

"You look like shit, Madara! Younger than I, and I envy you for that, but you still look like shit! What happened to that beautiful face of yours?"

The man known as the Kage of Hagoromo was covered in blood from head to toes. Knowing that White Zetsu could not produce blood and that the impaled bodies still have their head protectors on their foreheads, Obito was certain that the blood belonged to none other than the shinobi. As though sacrificing was not enough, the lord has been mutilating the bodies of his victims. Such a clan of barbaric and heartless savages; for now, he could confirm that the stories of the Hagoromo were indeed true.

"These white zombies with no balls tried to cross into my borders! These bunch of talkative wankers insisted that you are alive and younger!" With his double-edged sword, the Lord of Hagoromo decapitated one of Zetsu's heads with a swing before shoving it into Obito's face. The stench of decayed corpses was starting to get to him. "Is this your doing, Madara?! Because if it is, you better give me an explanation!"

"I am not the person that you assumed me to be, for my name is Obito – an ally and a descendant of the great Uchiha Madara. He asked me to come here in seeking to recruit your men and reform our alliance."

The Lord of Hagoromo dropped the Zetsu's head. He glared at Ryūjin and commanded, "remove it."

Ryūjin quickly clasped his hands together, forming hand seals and chanted, "release!"

Instantaneously, the strong force that acted like a heavy weight on Obito's body has finally lifted. He could sense chakra rushing from his core and spreading throughout his veins. He could already feel his strength returning. The Lord of Hagoromo took a step closer to him. His green eyes fixated on his abdominal region – the source of his chakra.

"A mistaken identity," the lord admitted as he leaned back and glared at Ryūjin again. Disappointment and awkward silence filled the air as he walked to the sink to wash off the stained blood on his face and arms. "My son has brought an infant into my dungeon. I bear no shame; this is my pleasure, and you are the second Uchiha to have witnessed it. I should have known from that expression you gave me; unlike you, Madara likes what he sees."

He offered Obito to take a seat on a bench across from him. There was no anger, just annoyance in his tone of voice.

"I am Hagoromo Mizuchi, Lord of the Hagoromo Clan, the First of My Name, Protector of Hone-shima and the one who guards the Lost People," he introduced himself and sat on an armchair. His clothes were still drenched with the shinobi's blood, and despite washing his arms clean, his fingers were still stained. He has an old scar from his left temple down to his broad jaw. He kept his beard unshaved, which made him look more rugged and fierce.

None of those truly bother Obito except for those familiar green eyes that he could not be precise on where he had seen them before.

"The jutsu just now; it felt heavy like someone had put weight on my chakra. What was it?" Obito asked.

"You felt that," the lord paused and then answered, "it was Mukōka no Jutsu, a nullification technique wielded only by the Hagoromo Clan. We used this jutsu during battles to cut off the Shinobi's chakra before attempting a direct kill."

"Simple technique, but a deadly one. The shinobi depend on their chakra to form jutsu; nullifying it from their main core will leave them nothing but taijutsu."

"Indeed. Yet, not all shinobi can feel it when their chakra is threatened. As expected, an Uchiha is the exceptional one," he chuckled while shifting in his seat for comfort. "So, how is dearest Madara? Has he finally ceased scheming around? Has he managed to find peace? Has his lecture days about the shinobi, their philosophy, peace, war, and the failure of this world finally over?"

Something then piqued Obito's curiosity.

"You talked as though you and Madara have known each other for ages. He is more than a century of age, whereas you seem to be in your fifties."

The Lord of Hagoromo kept his silence. He was waiting for his questions to be answered. Obito knew well enough that there was no point in having this conversation if it did not gain the trust of the tyrant Hagoromo.

"Madara died but was later brought back to life by Gedō – Rinne Tensei no Jutsu during the Fourth Shinobi World War. He said that there is no peace in this world; it does not go as one desires no matter how much we attempt to find it. In the beginning, I thought he was just babbling about a nonsense topic, but it turned out that he was right about this reality. The selfishness of shinobi's desire in which they had let themselves believe that they can achieve peace; yet, there is no peace when wars and hatred still exist."

"It seems that Madara has entrusted his teachings to you. Answer me honestly, child," the lord shifted to the edge of his seat. "You have gone through the light and dark of this world. With your own eyes, you have seen how this world changes – it changes them; it changes you. What makes you think that you can guarantee peace in this world?"

For the first time, Obito's opinion about the world's peace was being tested – such could not afford to answer it with simplicity.

"It is because I know the truth, I have seen it, and I have experienced it," he answered boldly. "It was hell when I lost the love of my life to human greed. The pain, the suffering, and the emptiness – a life without Rin – it was hell, and it still is." He stared at the pile of bodies – both shinobi and White Zetsu. "My only goal is to end this world's cycle of hate. If I must rule it with tyranny to obtain that peace, then so be it."

"Love… Nothing turns to hate so bitter as what once was love," the lord quoted and shook his head in disappointment. "I see so much of Madara in you; a dead ringer of him per se. Madara's love for his brother still holds his heart when he is supposed to move on. The love of your life still clings to your heart, and here you are, changing the world for your version of peace. It is the Uchiha's curse – for those who know to love will also know to hate. I wonder when will it end?

The Lord of Hagoromo stood, hands clasped behind his back and mumbled to himself.

"Throughout my life, I have witnessed shinobi – men and women – made foolish promises and beliefs to seek peace. They seek peace through wars," he scoffed. "Then my beloved sister was taken away by my mortal enemy; my father was killed in battle, leaving me to take over his reign. During my reign, I have lost five of my children – all died in battles too, leading my wife to suicide. I have but one hopeless son who desires war and spreads bloodshed in the shinobi world. I do not seek foolish death for I have responsibilities to keep – my clan needs me here as their lord, and the Lost People keep coming through. I am too old, too tired, and too grumpy to play war with the shinobi.

Old? Obito was confused because the lord's physique seemed close to Madara's.

"Century over a century, I have reigned this forsaken land for far too long," he grumbled. "Child, those white zombies with no balls, are they your ancestor's doing?"

"They are his failed experiment – a rejected specimen to be specific. We did use them in the fourth war."

"Chikushō," the lord cursed, slamming his fist on the desk. Obito could feel the tremors echoing throughout the dungeon hall. "I had entrusted my sacred treasure to him. It was meant for him to absorb the chakra so that he could outlive his true lifespan, amend his mistakes, and live in peace before death takes him. Aghast! He is scheming it away! Tell that ancestor of yours to stop scheming around and return what is mine! The Gedō Mazō belongs to me! I want it back!"

"I believed Madara summoned it from –"

"From the stone it was sealed into," he interrupted. "The origin of that stone is from the Hagoromo Clan. It is something of ours – a heritage. It is sealed and cannot be summoned so easily unless one possessed the Saṃsāra eyes similar to the Rikudō Sennin's. I see that you have a Rinnegan. Now summon my sacred treasure here."

Obito was trapped between a rock and a hard place. He did not want to meddle with broken promises or agreements between two ancient men. He needed to focus and stay firm on his purpose here.

"The Hagoromo Clan is one of the oldest bloodlines in the shinobi world; one that is still equal to ours. I am here to recruit your men. Madara claimed that you will listen to one particular bloodline, which I believed to be the Uchiha. We are your closest and only ally."

Silence filled the dungeon. The Lord of Hagoromo prowled towards Obito, reading his eyes to seek truth in his words.

"Otōsan," Ryūjin called as he slowly approached his old man.

"Say no further," he held up his hand. "Have the men prepare my journey and inform the steward to watch this land for I am heading to the shinobi world. You and Mariko will join me."

"Only the three of you?" Obito was shocked. "For sure you can provide us with more. Madara has requested an army."

"He did not request an army. He requested men," the lord corrected, emphasizing the specification of the request. He then smiled a devilish smile. "It seems that bloody fossil of Uchiha has kept his promise after all. If it is true, I would like to see it with my own eyes."

The specific choice of words, Obito thought, knowing it was a huge mistake on both his and Madara's account. Such cleverness of the Lord of the Hagoromo Clan. Still, he could not seem to shake the unknown promise his ancestor has made to the tyrant, and that was something Madara has failed to mention.

A backstabbing ally, indeed.