Chapter 429: The Sharingan Awakens

Then, word by word, with brutal clarity, he revealed the bloody truth that Indra had forgotten—but which he had sent people to investigate and confirm:

"They... persevered in their efforts and gratitude for only a few days."

"Before long, the inertia born from years of hardship, combined with their lack of lasting inner motivation and guidance..."

"They returned to their former apathy and aimlessness."

"The wells remained, and the threats had been eliminated. Yet they... never truly pulled themselves together again."

"In the end..."

The Sage of Six Paths' voice carried the calmness of someone pronouncing a tragedy.

"The entire village scattered as refugees..."

"That village where you believed you had 'solved' every problem..."

"In the end... it still... fell apart."

"What?!"

Indra felt as though he had been struck by a bolt from the blue!

Every trace of indignation, anger, and resentment vanished from his face, instantly replaced by pure, overwhelming shock and disbelief!

His pupils contracted sharply, and his body even swayed slightly against his will!

He simply could not believe it!

He had solved their water problem. He had wiped out the bandits. He had cleared away every obstacle!

He had given those ordinary people all the material conditions they needed to survive—and even to live a good life!

How could they... How could they have persevered for only a few days?

How could they have returned to their old ways?

And in the end... the entire village had scattered? The village itself had ceased to exist?

This completely overturned everything he believed—his logic, and his entire understanding of the relationship between solving a problem and achieving a lasting outcome!

Indra stood frozen, his face filled with horror and his eyes vacant, as though his entire worldview had been shattered.

Behind him, a growing wave of genuine cheers rose for Asura.

Before him stood his father's calm yet unfathomable gaze—and the cruel truth of his own "failure," one so brutal that it made his very soul tremble.

The glory of victory belonged to his younger brother.

The mission he had considered "perfect" had actually been utterly meaningless... an exercise in futility that had failed to change even the people it was meant to help?

After announcing that cruel truth, the Sage of Six Paths turned his gaze toward his second son, Asura, who still appeared somewhat dazed.

This time, the deep calm usually in his eyes was replaced by undisguised approval and warmth. His voice was equally clear, as though guiding everyone toward an understanding.

"And Asura..."

The Sage of Six Paths spoke slowly.

"He ate and lived alongside the villagers, meeting sincerity with sincerity. Over the course of half a year, he truly won over every one of them."

"What he taught them was not merely the skills needed to survive. He rekindled their hope for life and their belief in self-reliance."

"After he left, that village not only avoided decline, but gradually grew more prosperous. The villagers lived in abundance and continued to thrive, becoming a community capable of sustaining itself—and even helping the surrounding areas."

The Sage of Six Paths paused and swept his gaze across the countless pairs of eyes below him, some enlightened, some admiring, and others still conflicted.

Finally, his voice became firm and resounding, like a final judgment.

"This... is the true and final result of your competition."

To help others was not a one-time project of removing obstacles. It was an ongoing process of igniting the heart and guiding growth.

Power was not the only measure by which problems could be solved. It might not even be the most important one.

And inheritance did not require the sharpest sword. It required a spark capable of uniting people's hearts and leading everyone forward.

These standards of judgment were like an invisible hammer, striking not only Indra's heart but also leaving a deep mark upon the hearts of many shinobi who revered strength above all else.

Indra felt as though he had suddenly fallen into an abyss of ice!

All the resentment, pride, and anger he had felt over his father's supposed favoritism were extinguished like flames doused with icy water before these ironclad facts and his father's clearly stated standards.

All that remained was bone-deep cold... and a despair that reached into his very bones.

He had lost.

Not because he lacked strength.

Not because he lacked intelligence.

He had lost because of something he had never truly understood—or perhaps had never even bothered to confront: the human heart and the process itself.

He had lost to the younger brother he had never taken seriously, the one he believed was inferior to him in every way.

An immense sense of loss and the collapse of his own self-worth washed over him like a tide.

He said nothing. Without even looking at his father or younger brother again, he abruptly turned around and almost roughly pushed his way through the crowd behind him—a crowd still buzzing with discussion, but gradually turning their attention toward cheering for Asura.

He left all the noise behind.

The glory of the victor.

The piercing praise.

He discarded it all as though fleeing from a humiliating nightmare.

Alone, he returned to his residence and shut the doors and windows tight, cutting himself off from the outside world.

He sat quietly by the window. The lingering light of the setting sun streamed through the lattice, casting a long, lonely shadow across his body.

As he watched the sky outside gradually darken, emotions too heavy to disperse churned in his eyes: frustration, confusion, self-doubt... and a darker feeling that he forcibly kept suppressed.

No one could understand the storm raging within his heart.

"I told you..."

Just as that suffocating silence threatened to freeze solid, a familiar, cold voice suddenly echoed through the room without warning, as though it had crawled directly out of the shadows within his heart.

"The position of Ninshū's successor was never going to be yours."

Indra abruptly raised his eyes!

In an instant, all confusion and vulnerability disappeared from his gaze, leaving only the cold vigilance and sharp ferocity of a wounded beast!

His eyes became like tangible icicles as they shot toward the darkest corner of the room.

There, Black Zetsu's figure slowly seemed to rise out of a pool of ink, silently taking shape.

Yet after appearing, Black Zetsu did not immediately continue the previous conversation.

Its pupil-less gaze suddenly fixed upon Indra's eyes. It paused slightly, seemingly surprised.

Then it spoke in a deep voice, with a faint trace of astonishment.

"I never expected... that at this moment, you would directly awaken the... Three-Tomoe Sharingan."

"The Sharingan?" Indra was startled. Instinctively, he raised a hand to touch the area around his eyes.

As his fingertips brushed against the skin at the corner of his eye, he could clearly feel an unfamiliar yet incomparably powerful heat surging deep within his eyes—a force that seemed capable of seeing through falsehoods and enhancing both his perception and spiritual power.

This was the ocular power that would one day make the Uchiha Clan famous—the power of the eyes that symbolized powerful emotions and extraordinary talent!

"That's right. The Sharingan." Black Zetsu confirmed its judgment. After a brief silence, as though recalling the distant past, it slowly continued.

"The eyes of your lineage were originally derived from the essence of your father's power. Back then... when your father experienced overwhelming emotional turmoil and a tremendous upheaval, he too directly awakened a Sharingan approaching the Three-Tomoe stage."

"Later, upon the foundation of those eyes, combined with other experiences and powers, they eventually evolved into those eyes capable of seeing through all creation... the Rinnegan."