The moment the River God's spirit body became completely trapped, an incomparably brilliant yet impossibly complex divine soul truly emerged from the immobilized spirit.
The River God's divine soul possessed no concrete form.
It was merely a gigantic sphere of radiant light.
Within that light, countless colors shifted and intertwined endlessly, representing the stitched-together nature of its existence.
Beyond that, however, were the divine abilities Uchiha Yoru had been longing for—the powers embedded within the very essence of the god's soul:
Faith.
Faith Communication.
Offering.
Bestowal.
Yoru smiled.
Unable to help himself, he said,
"This Water God is surprisingly lucky."
"This is my first attempt, and yet all four abilities I wanted have revealed themselves."
His eyes remained fixed on the glowing divine soul as he asked playfully,
"Are we simply extraordinarily lucky?"
"Or have you already developed a true ego during the fusion process?"
"If you have, flash three times."
"If not…"
"I won't keep a hidden danger like you around."
The sharp killing intent caused the divine soul to shrink abruptly.
It seemed to hesitate and think for two full seconds.
Then—
The soul flashed three times.
As expected.
This stitched-together River God had truly completed its integration.
Perhaps the process of being shattered and reconstructed by Yoru had helped it cross the final threshold.
But that wasn't important.
What mattered was that a River God with a unified will was controllable.
It was no longer a ticking time bomb that might lose control at any moment.
That meant Yoru could tolerate its existence within his Purple Mansion World rather than cast it out into the shinobi world, where the natural laws of reality would eventually erase it.
A god was still a god.
Even though Chakra had altered the world's rules and forced gods into becoming something akin to extradimensional demons, their fundamental nature remained extraordinarily high.
If the River God remained uncontrollable, it might one day sacrifice itself in front of the Five Heart Manifestations and inflict irreversible damage upon the Purple Mansion World.
Compared to that, Little Keke the Hollow Octopus was strange enough, but its essence was merely a product of human madness.
It lacked the qualifications to cause any truly catastrophic damage.
Pinching a corner of the membrane-like body, Yoru gave it a gentle tug.
The River God peeled away from the Divine Hall's surface and transformed back into a tiny fish.
Its appearance had changed completely.
The four heads were gone.
The oversized fins were gone.
Now it was merely a normal red-tailed goldfish.
Today's harvest had already exceeded expectations.
Without lingering further, Yoru tossed the goldfish back into the water basin and departed from the Purple Mansion World.
The moment he returned to reality, dizziness hit him.
It felt like squatting in an outhouse for two straight hours and standing up too quickly—a violent spinning sensation accompanied by darkness creeping into his vision.
As someone thoroughly familiar with human physiology and his own body, Yoru immediately understood the cause.
Mental exhaustion.
Yet instead of worrying, he felt delighted.
Entering the Purple Mansion World was indeed draining.
But he had not remained inside for very long today.
The level of dizziness he felt could not possibly have resulted from normal expenditure.
That meant the cause was something else.
The only unusual activity today had been his experiments with the River God.
Especially the moment he had observed those four divine abilities.
Using Purple Mansion Memory to observe powers that touched the world's fundamental laws was, by definition, peering into the foundation of reality itself.
Such a thing naturally consumed tremendous amounts of mental energy.
Yoru's heart filled with joy.
The exhaustion might be troublesome, but it proved something important.
Those four abilities were real.
Every single one was a divine technique tied to fundamental laws.
That also meant the newly born ego within the goldfish River God was either astonishingly naïve or frighteningly intelligent.
If it was naïve, he could cultivate a relationship from scratch and turn it into a reliable assistant.
If it was intelligent, he could coordinate through mutual interests and make it a dependable subordinate.
Either way, the River God possessed tremendous potential.
Not in terms of combat power.
Its true value lay elsewhere.
Although it currently existed as an extradimensional demon, its essence remained that of a native god born from the shinobi world itself.
As long as it could adapt to Chakra under his guidance, it might eventually transform into a new deity compatible with the world's current laws.
When that day came, its survival would no longer be a problem.
Nor would there be any limits on its future development.
As the River God's controlling shareholder, Yoru would naturally reap immense benefits as well.
After all, throughout history, gods and immortals had never truly been separate.
Both were higher lifeforms born from the laws of the world.
Gods wielded rules and transformed them into divine authority, serving the operation of reality.
Immortals comprehended those same rules and transformed themselves into embodiments of law, pursuing transcendence beyond the world itself.
There was never a clear boundary between the two.
If divine authority became dominant, gods would conscript immortals into service and bind them to the functioning of the world.
If immortals became stronger, they would reduce gods to servants and turn the entire world into a laboratory for studying universal laws.
Since Yoru intended to establish a Divine Court and proclaim himself Divine Emperor, he naturally had no objection to accommodating the River God within his organization.
At the very least, having a genuine god around was better than pretending to be one all by himself.
After resting for a while and letting his thoughts wander, the dizziness gradually faded.
He then immersed himself once more in studying divine abilities.
Only when evening arrived and the tabby cat returned from a highly successful hunting trip, dragging a string of prey behind her, did Yoru finally stop.
Together, he and Miiwa Masayo grilled their catch and enjoyed a dinner rich with wilderness flavor.
That night, beneath the moonlight of early summer, Masayo stood atop the shelter, drawing in natural energy beneath the silver moon while refining the instincts she had unleashed throughout the day.
Through repeated experimentation, Yoru and Masayo had discovered that a Cat Sage cultivated differently from humans.
Masayo needed play and hunting.
By liberating her instincts and drawing out the primal power hidden within her bloodline, she could establish a deeper connection with nature itself.
In other words, following the path of a beast immortal advanced her cultivation far faster than Yoru's meditation and standing-post practice.
Cat Sages clearly possessed ancestral origins.
After all, the existence of the Two-Tails Matatabi proved that powerful feline yokai had once existed in the shinobi world.
Reverse-engineering one's bloodline.
Returning to one's origins.
Then surpassing one's ancestors and becoming a new progenitor.
That was the path Masayo had chosen.
Of course, releasing her instincts had drawbacks as well.
While it strengthened her feline nature, it simultaneously weakened her rationality and wisdom.
She needed methods to temper herself constantly and avoid becoming trapped by instinct alone.
Absorbing natural energy beneath the moon had been Yoru's suggestion.
He didn't fully understand why it worked.
But after practicing for three months, Masayo discovered it was genuinely effective.
At the very least, it surpassed blindly copying Yoru's standing meditation.
Thus, moon-howling became her nightly cultivation routine.
Regardless of wind or rain.
Regardless of clear skies or cloudy nights.
She never missed a single session.
There was only one problem.
A Cat Sage was still a cat.
When addressing people, cats produced cute little "meow meow" sounds.
But otherwise?
Their vocalizations were all sorts of bizarre howls, screeches, yowls, and wails.
To Yoru's ears, Masayo's moon-howling sounded either like a torrent of profanity or a soul-crushing lament.
One word described it perfectly:
Awful.
Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it.
It was simply a consequence of feline biology.
As her cultivation partner, all he could do was endure it.
Whenever it became unbearable, he would shut down his senses and retreat into the Purple Mansion World to continue refining the details of the Cloud Palace.
Still—
Once they returned to Konoha, what would happen when a fully liberated wild Cat Sage howled at the moon every single night?
Wouldn't Masayo become a public nuisance?
The thought was strangely amusing.
Maybe I shouldn't torment my own neighbors.
I'll move into the village center.
Right next to the Sarutobi Clan compound.
Let them enjoy the experience.
If that doesn't work, maybe I'll move beside the Shimura Clan…
Actually, forget the Shimura Clan.
They won't be around much longer anyway.
That was right.
Yoru was convinced the Shimura Clan did not have much time left.
His strength continued to grow.
And that strength constantly inflated both his courage and his temper.
Back when he was weak, he had always acted cautiously.
Even when he suffered unfair treatment in mission squads or the Military Police Force, he swallowed his grievances and avoided causing trouble.
Then came the Hundred-Day Foundation Establishment.
The moment he stepped onto the path of cultivation, his courage and temperament underwent a complete transformation.
The very next day, he killed four Root operatives simply because they suspected him.
After breaking through Foundation Establishment and proving his strength in actual combat, his confidence grew further.
When Root agents dared track him, he set a trap and annihilated fifteen of them.
Now his power had risen once again.
And so had his temper.
Yoru already anticipated being recalled to Konoha.
To be honest, he himself had lost interest in the Land of Hot Water and the Eastern Sea for the time being.
He wanted to return home and enjoy a peaceful life.
But every time he thought about how this transfer was merely another act of suppression by Konoha's Four Elders, his mood soured.
You four old bastards think you can decide my fate?
Then I'll prove something to myself.
I can decide yours too.
And so—
It was time for Danzo Shimura to die.
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