c12 – The Will of Fire
Uchiha Madara felt mildly uncomfortable being stared at so intently by the little ghost, Gion. With a snort, he handed her the glowing [Chakra Seed], its pale blue light flickering like the Will-o'-the-Wisps from the Forest of Death in Konoha.
"Eat it directly. Then go rest. Once you've stabilized your condition, I'll begin teaching you how to refine chakra," he said, tone clipped like how he once addressed Obito during his youth.
The little ghost held the [Chakra Seed] carefully in her hand, recalling what Zefa had once said with solemn intensity:
"Mr. Madara's inheritance is the power that forges legends. If it were unleashed upon the seas, it would drive every Yonko and Warlord into a frenzy."
---
Chapter 12 – Development Policy
Swallowing hard like someone about to eat one of Sanji's experimental dishes, she hesitantly asked:
"Master… this radiant seed it must be incredibly valuable, right?"
Madara's brow twitched. His face instantly took on the same impatient expression he'd worn when Hashirama once suggested peace negotiations with the Uchiha.
"It's not something you need to concern yourself with. I just happened to have a spare. Now eat it and leave. Don't dawdle around me."
Without another word, Gion popped the [Chakra Seed] into her mouth. The second it dissolved on her tongue, a rush of energy flooded her body, making her eyes widen like Luffy's when he first tried meat from All Blue. She grinned brightly, her enthusiasm nearly blinding, and gave Madara a dazzling look of admiration before turning and skipping away.
Madara, however, visibly exhaled in relief. If the brat had turned sentimental and called him "like a father," he might have flung himself into the sea like Itachi after his first encounter with Sasuke's endless questions.
Shaking his head, he turned to find the scrolls he'd been preparing he needed to select a foundational jutsu for her. Maybe the Clone Technique, or something simpler like the Substitution Jutsu used in the early Konoha curriculum.
But then a gust of wind accompanied by the scent of ocean salt and girlish mischief rushed past him.
With a thud, Gion leaped onto Madara's back, arms dangling over his shoulders like Luffy hanging off Ace, and cheerfully declared:
"Hohoho~! Master, you're the best master in the whole world~!"
Madara froze.
Behind me…? Didn't I always hate people behind me?
And yet, strangely enough, the little girl didn't provoke revulsion. Instead, there was… something warm. Something he hadn't felt since that day on the battlefield when Hashirama had stood behind him and said, "I'll always have your back."
His lips curled into a small, unfamiliar smile. A warmth fleeting but undeniable—spread across his chest. Tch. What a noisy brat.
Without speaking, he reached up and gently tousled the back of her head, his fingers brushing the base of her ponytail.
"Alright, go rest. We begin actual practice tomorrow—don't slack off."
Watching her bounce away, full of life, Madara stood at the threshold of the room, staring at the shrinking figure of his disciple.
"So this is… bond, huh? Hmph. This must be what it felt like, Hashirama… to have someone stand behind you again."
---
The next morning, the warship deck was bustling with anticipation. Four titans stood in a wide semicircle: Monkey D. Garp, Fleet Admiral Sengoku, Zefa, and Uchiha Madara—each a legend in his own world.
Gion stood in the middle of the deck, feeling like she was in a survival exam in the Forest of Death, surrounded by Kage-level examiners. The pressure radiating off the four men was so thick, it felt like walking through a sea of Conqueror's Haki.
Madara frowned.
What are these old fools doing here? I'm the one teaching her—this isn't some public seminar.
Zefa was scribbling furiously on a notepad like Orochimaru dissecting a rare jutsu. Sengoku had two Navy-grade recording den den mushi clacking away. Garp, of course, was munching rice crackers but watching with full intent.
Madara silently cursed his generosity. I only told them they could observe. Now they look like they're ready to write a curriculum based on it! I even told them without Chakra Seeds, you can't replicate it. Where's the trust?
He took a breath and turned to Gion, beginning his explanation in the stern tone of a shinobi master:
"Chakra is formed through the equal balance of mental and physical energy. The 130 trillion cells in the human body generate physical vitality what we call stamina. When you mix that stamina with the mental energies of the spirit, you create chakra."
He paused, watching her concentration.
"This chakra can then be molded and released through techniques known as jutsu by forming specific hand seals. There are twelve basic seals based on the Chinese zodiac, and mastering them takes most genin years."
"However," he continued, his voice steady and crisp like the clang of kunai, "you've consumed a Chakra Seed. That shortcut bypasses the painful initial steps your tenketsu are already awakened, and your chakra coils stabilized. What would take others years will only take you days."
He didn't say it, but each of the men watching knew it: this was no ordinary teaching. This was the passing of a legacy the Will of Fire taking root in a world not its own.
And Gion bouncing on her toes like Naruto waiting for a new jutsu was ready.
"What you need to do first," Uchiha Madara began, his voice calm yet authoritative, "is allow your body to become saturated with chakra. Let it familiarize itself with its flow. From there, it will begin generating its own chakra, driven by external stimulus."
"So I devised the simplest, fastest method."
At first, Gion listened with the seriousness of a new marine cadet receiving orders from Admiral Akainu, her brow furrowed in concentration as Madara explained the process of chakra cultivation. But as he continued, a sense of unease crept in. The way he described chakra flow and physical synchronization reminded her suspiciously of how Garp had trained her to manifest Busoshoku Haki—by using external force and pain to draw out hidden potential.
Her eye twitched. Something felt wrong.
"…Uh, Master," she offered with a nervous smile, "I think I'd rather learn a slower, steadier method. After all, isn't there an old saying about haste making waste…?"
Madara didn't even acknowledge her protest. With a flick of his finger, a massive surge of lavender chakra—the same ominous hue that once spilled from his Susano'o during the Fourth Great Ninja War crashed down like a tsunami.
Caught completely off guard, Gion stumbled and fell flat on her back, coughing as the heavy chakra pressed into her skin like the pressure from a Sea King's dive. But she clenched her teeth, dragged herself upright, planted her feet, and began to concentrate.
She closed her eyes and remembered what Madara had said about mental energy drawing on her resolve, she reached inside herself. Slowly, under the watchful eyes of Garp, Sengoku, and Zefa, her breathing steadied. Her shoulders relaxed.
Then a shimmer of light blue chakra began to ripple around her frame. Not the coarse external wave Madara had sent, but her own energy beginning to awaken and flow.
And then Madara's eyes narrowed, his Sharingan spinning slightly.
Fire and lightning…?
He smirked. Very standard Uchiha elemental alignment.
Though Gion's chakra layer was paper-thin and barely extended beyond her skin, it was enough to stabilize her footing and keep her from collapsing again.
Seeing this, Madara withdrew his chakra surge. There was no need to push further—his goal had been to catalyze chakra awareness, not to burn her out. After all, in the shinobi world, even elite jōnin could collapse or die from chakra depletion. Just ask Hatake Kakashi, the man famous for fainting post-Kamui.
He handed Gion a scroll, neatly labeled and bound with a black ribbon, and turned toward the three veterans watching with barely contained greed.
"Refining chakra is basic," Madara warned coldly. "But jutsu those are a ninja's lifeline. If I catch you trying to peek, I'll kill you where you stand."
The killing intent that radiated off him was strong enough to make Zefa pause mid-note. Garp whistled and took a casual step back, while Sengoku coughed and subtly covered the recorder with his coat.
Madara sighed. Honestly, he didn't want to waste breath on these basics, but the way these so-called admirals hovered around like Orochimaru during a forbidden jutsu auction made him uneasy.
The scroll he gave Gion contained a starter suite of techniques: the foundational three basic jutsu taught at the Konoha Academy—[Transformation], [Clone], and [Substitution]—as well as a signature of the Uchiha Clan:
[Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu].
This wasn't just any fire jutsu. While comparable to the Leaf Village's [Flame Bullet], the Uchiha version used a more refined chakra molding route. It required the same five seals—Tiger, Boar, Ox, Dog, Snake—but yielded better control, more consistent power, and could cover middle-range combat more efficiently. It had been Itachi's signature jutsu before the Mangekyō Sharingan awakened.
Madara had already devised a comprehensive early training path for Gion: ninjutsu augmenting swordsmanship, a system similar to what Sasuke developed under Kakashi's guidance, using elemental ninjutsu to support melee combat.
He didn't dump advanced jutsu on her immediately. Gion had just unlocked her chakra, and overloading her with flashy, high-rank ninjutsu would only create bad habits—unrefined seals, poor chakra control, and long-term damage. For now, hand seal accuracy and speed came first.
Even Sarutobi Hiruzen, the so-called Professor of Ninjutsu, couldn't skip seals before Kage-level mastery. Gion would be no different.
As Garp had mentioned, their warship was nearing Marineford, and once they arrived, Madara's time would no longer be his own. The establishment of Konoha Naval Village—a hybrid shinobi-marine enclave—would require resources, manpower, diplomacy, and more money than the entire Celestial Dragon allowance.
He planned to finalize Gion's curriculum while there was still time.
To be honest, Madara had no real idea how to set up a government. When he and Hashirama founded the original Konoha, they left the paperwork to Tobirama. Madara had been more focused on enforcing peace through power. His political strategy was, in essence: If they resist, crush them.
Now being asked to run things himself, Madara felt like someone had handed Sasuke a baby.
So he decided: forget bureaucracy. If he couldn't build a village the traditional way, then he'd do it the Akatsuki way lean, elite, mobile, autonomous. A small force, strong influence, minimal structure, maximum returns.
Madara Uchiha came to the Navy to accomplish three things:
Recruit the strong. Secure funding. Spread the Will of Fire.
And nothing not Garp's nosy questions, not Sengoku's politics, not even Zefa's notebook—was going to stop him.
---