Simultaneous Time Travel: What Villain? I'm the Protagonist!

The lightning patterns on the purplish-red blade suddenly blazed brightly, and a chaotic color surged from the tip of the blade, transforming into a torrent capable of devouring everything. At the same time, it crashed into the falling star from the sky and the Otsutsuki Isshiki standing three zhang away.

The moment the star came into contact with that gray light, it disintegrated.

That colossal object, which covered half the sky, was like ice exposed to the scorching sun; countless fragments melted and turned into dust in mid-air before they could even fall.

The dust was blown away by the wind.

Yishi stood there, looking down at his chest.

There was a fist-sized, penetrating wound there, without blood. The force deep within the wound was like a living thing, eroding outwards from the edges of the wound. With each inch it eroded, an inch of his skin was peeled away.

He raised his hand, trying to seal the wound with the Great Black Sky.

The power of chaos crept up his fingertips, and fragments of the black rod slipped through his fingers.

Yishi stared at the fragments for a long time.

"...What kind of technique is this?"

His voice remained flat, but there was a slight, barely perceptible hoarseness at the end.

Sheng Ren did not answer.

He stood three zhang away, still holding the purplish-red sword in his hand, the lightning patterns on the blade's spine completely extinguished. He was covered in blood, his white clothes stained deep red, some of it his own, others of the same style.

But his eyes were bright.

No fatigue, no weakness, like a newly lit lamp.

Yishi looked into his eyes.

"...You're alright."

It's not a question, it's a statement.

Sheng Ren didn't speak; all I could see on Sheng Ren's face was calmness.

There are no signs of chakra depletion.

There was no trace of life force burning.

There was no cost.

Yishi remained silent for a long time.

"...Two thousand years," he said. "I've seen countless enemies and killed countless rivals. Even that traitor Kaguya couldn't kill me after she stole the fruit of the Divine Tree."

He paused.

"But I have never seen anyone who, after unleashing this level of power, can still stand in the same spot, completely unharmed."

A flicker of emotion finally appeared in his voice. For the first time, a being who had lived for thousands of years, traversed the sea of ​​stars, and witnessed the rise and fall of countless civilizations was confronting something he could not comprehend.

Sheng Ren looked at him.

"Now you've seen it."

Yishi did not answer.

All eyes were on the two figures in the center of the battlefield, on the Otsutsuki Isshiki with a hole in his chest, and on the extinguished purplish-red sword.

Ban stood still.

His Susanoo had long since dissipated; he merely stared at the slowly expanding piercing wound on Isshiki's chest, and at the body of the Otsutsuki clan being devoured by the power of chaos.

The magatama in the Eternal Kaleidoscope has long since stopped spinning.

He suddenly laughed.

The laughter was very soft, so soft that only Hashirama, who was standing nearby, could hear it.

"...Sixty years," Ban said. "It took me sixty years to think I had finally touched the truth of the world."

He looked at the first style.

"So that's the truth."

He paused.

"An alien who has lived for thousands of years, with power far superior to mine, wants to turn the ninja world into his own farm."

He was silent for two seconds.

"...and then he was stabbed through by a thirteen-year-old boy."

His laughter stopped abruptly.

Hashirama didn't speak. He simply stood beside Madara, looking at the wound swallowed by the gray arc of light, at the extinguished sword, and at Morihito's calm eyes.

He suddenly remembered those days.

The Valley of the End, the final battle, the one where he killed Madara. He thought it was the end, but little did he know it was just the beginning.

After he left, Madara was resurrected, Madara turned evil, Madara was deceived, Madara became a pawn, Madara's successor betrayed him, Madara's plan was intercepted by another thirteen-year-old child, and Madara watched helplessly as his sixty years of planning turned into a pile of ice shards and a pool of melting blood.

He wanted to say something.

But he couldn't say it.

Within the allied forces, it's unclear who first loosened their grip.

Ding.

A kunai fell onto the ice.

Then came the second round, and the third. The clanging sounds were like a belated rain, particularly jarring on the silent battlefield.

No one spoke. No one shouted surrender, no one ran away, and no one even dared to breathe heavily.

They simply laid down their weapons.

Because it's meaningless now.

Rōshi of Iwagakure died by Sōjin's blade, the Three-Tails of Kirigakure died five years ago, and the Two-Tails Jinchūriki of Kumogakure was just captured. And Ōtsutsuki Isshiki, who controlled all of this and had lived for thousands of years, stood there with a hole in his chest, unable to do anything.

What else can they fight?

Orochimaru stood at the edge of the battlefield, his golden snake eyes narrowed to slits, and he licked his lips:

"...a perfect vessel," he murmured, almost to himself, "perfect enough to control even this kind of power."

He paused.

"I must get it."

Sheng Ren made a move.

He walked toward the first style.

His steps were neither fast nor slow, like taking a stroll. The crimson knife was still in his hand, its tip dragging on the ice, leaving a shallow mark.

Yi Shi watched him approach without backing down, because he knew he couldn't hide, and there was no need to hide.

Sheng Ren walked up to him and stopped.

The two were only three feet apart. At that distance, the tip of the knife was already pressed against Yi Shi's lower abdomen.

Yishi looked up at him.

"You know what," he said softly, as if chatting, "two thousand years ago, Kaguya stood at this distance, looking at me."

Sheng Ren did not speak.

"She was also hesitant at the time," Yi Shi said. "She hesitated for three seconds, and during those three seconds, I thought she couldn't bring herself to do it."

He paused.

"Then she pushed me into the hollow of the sacred tree."

He suddenly smiled. The smile was brief, fleeting.

"You're more decisive than her."

Sheng Ren looked at him.

“I don’t need to hesitate,” he said. “You’re not one of my kind.”

Yishi nodded, as if acknowledging the answer.

Then Sheng Ren swung his knife.

Without gathering strength or adopting a stance, with just a slight twist of the wrist, the purplish-red blade pierced diagonally upwards from the lower abdomen, through the chest cavity, and out from behind the right shoulder.

Yishi's body swayed slightly.

He looked down at the knife that had emerged from his body.

"Good knife," he said.

Sheng Ren drew his sword.

He took a step back, looked up, and looked at Sheng Ren.

Then he laughed.

That smile was different from before. Before, it was just a fleeting moment; this time, it was a real smile, the corners of his mouth widening to reveal his gleaming white teeth.

"...You think you've won."

Sheng Ren's pupils contracted slightly.

Yi Shi raised his hand, his five fingers pointing towards his chest, towards the gray arc of light that was devouring him.

"His childhood name was Biguna."

His voice was very soft, like a sigh.

He shrunk himself, compressing his entire torso, limbs, head, and even the fatal wound, into a tiny black dot the size of a thumb. The dot hovered in mid-air for half a second, and then—

boom.

Silvery-gray light erupted from the center of the black dot, pouring wildly in all directions, like a miniature star exploding on the ice field.

The shockwave spread to a distance of 100 feet within 0.1 seconds.

Within the allied forces' ranks, the ninjas who had just laid down their weapons hadn't even had a chance to look up before being swept away by the shockwave. Dozens of them floated in mid-air like falling leaves before crashing heavily into the ice behind them. Some were knocked unconscious on the spot, while others struggled to their feet only to be slammed to the ground by a second wave of shockwave.

Onoki erected an Earth Release wall, which cracked into a spiderweb within three seconds.

The Third Raikage crossed his arms, and his Lightning Release armor peeled away inch by inch under the impact.

Madara stood still, his impure body disintegrating from his ankles onwards, the scraps of paper being swept away by the storm like snowflakes.

Hashirama clasped his hands together, and Wood Release techniques rose from the ground in front of him, forming a shield wall three zhang thick. The shield wall only lasted for five seconds before it shattered in the middle.

The fabric on Hiruzen Sarutobi's back was torn to shreds by the gale, his flesh was torn open, and blood splattered everywhere.

Kakashi's Sharingan spun wildly, the vortex of Kamui twisting before him, attempting to engulf the oncoming shockwaves. He only lasted two seconds before being sent flying backward like a kite with a broken string, his back slamming into an ice pillar that shattered instantly.

Smoke, ice shards, and silver-gray chakra fragments mingled into a chaotic mess.

Then, from the chaos, a figure emerged from the center of the explosion. Sheng Ren, using the Nine Palaces Divine Steps, landed on a giant rock at the edge of the battlefield.

Within the smoke, a spatial rift silently tore open.

Two words escaped from the crack, very soft, yet they drowned out the cries and the sound of the wind on the entire battlefield.

"Let's do it."

The eternal kaleidoscope of spots suddenly contracted.

Behind him, a figure emerged from the void. The unconscious Second Hokage, holding a half-foot-long black rod, plunged it straight into Madara's nape without hesitation or pause.

Madara's body stiffened, and he began to unconsciously form hand seals.

"Madara! Tobirama!" Hashirama's voice boomed like thunder.

He charged forward, wood-style vines surging forth from his feet, attempting to entangle Tobirama's wrists. Just as the vines touched the hem of Tobirama's clothes, a spatial barrier appeared out of thin air, repelling Hashirama and the vines three zhang away.

Yishi emerged from the smoke.

His robes had changed; they weren't the ones torn by the blade's wind, but another identical black robe without any markings. The penetrating wound in his chest had disappeared, and the new skin was smooth and intact, without even a scar.

He stood there, stretching his right arm joints, like a traveler who had just changed into new clothes.

"...You," Hashirama's throat felt like it was filled with lead.

Yi Shi didn't look at him. He just looked down at his hands, his fingers clenching and unclenching, as if checking whether the newborn body was functioning properly, his eyes full of regret.

In the distance, Nagato's Rinnegan, several miles away, resembled two stars forcibly drawn together, emitting a dazzling purple light.

The art of reincarnation and rebirth.

Nagato's body rapidly withered in the light, like a dried-up tree trunk. Konan's paper wings fluttered towards her, and she screamed something, but her voice was swallowed up by the purple halo.