"A wager?" Genjo paused slightly, then said, "Senior Brother Nitai, it is not suitable for those who have left the world to gamble..."
"We're all fake monks anyway!" Madara Uchiha directly cut him off, his gaze pressing straight toward him. "Well? Do you dare to bet or not?"
Genjo was silent for a moment, then smiled faintly. "Then let it be as you say. Senior Brother, what shall we wager on?"
Madara Uchiha turned his head toward the night sky outside the temple gate, where the clouds still churned darkly. His gaze wandered through the clouds for a moment, and then he said, "We'll bet on when the next bolt of lightning will appear, in which direction it will strike, and what shape it will take."
Madara Uchiha had no interest whatsoever in all those mystical and rambling Buddhist scriptures, nor did he have any confidence in them, but as for this, he had absolute confidence.
Though he was famed for Fire Style, over these years in the lightless depths underground, during that long and tedious period of lurking, he had also worked out many changes in other chakra natures on his own, especially the Lightning nature chakra. He had even fused into it the Dark Style he excelled at most, creating Dark-Lightning Style.
"You go first! Start counting from the moment you speak!" Madara Uchiha stared at the sky outside the temple, and that familiar competitive spirit burned once more in his eyes.
Genjo raised his head and glanced at the night sky, then casually said, "One minute and thirty-six seconds from now, it will begin from north by northwest, shaped like deer antlers, with three forks and slightly curved tips."
After hearing this, the corners of Madara Uchiha's mouth lifted slightly, and then he gave his own judgment. "One minute and fifty-two seconds. North by northeast! It will resemble a withered branch, one main line descending straight down, with five side forks branching from it."
Having said that, he fixed his eyes tightly on the sky, and for a time, the ruined temple held nothing but the mournful sound of wind blowing through the gaps in the roof tiles.
Time passed slowly, and one minute and thirty-six seconds arrived, and nothing happened in the night sky.
At that, the curve at the corner of Madara Uchiha's mouth deepened slightly, while Genjo still maintained that calm smile, as though he cared nothing for victory or defeat.
Another dozen or so seconds dragged by, and the time Madara Uchiha had named had arrived!
At that very instant, deep within the clouds to the north by northeast, a blinding bolt of pale lightning suddenly exploded into being.
That bolt of lightning was like a withered branch hurled down from the heavens, striking straight downward.
In the middle of its descent, it suddenly split into five dense side veins, each one in that instant carving the entire night sky into something like a work of supernatural craftsmanship.
Immediately afterward, a thunderous roar that shook heaven and earth came rolling in, rattling the old tiles of the ruined temple until they trembled and rustled.
"Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!"
At the sight, Madara Uchiha threw back his head and laughed aloud, his laughter bright and unrestrained, completely unlike the Senior Brother Nitai from before, who had been suppressing a body full of secrets.
"This time, I won, Genjo!"
He glanced at the silent Genjo, and without waiting for the other party to say anything, he rose to his feet in one smooth motion and strode toward the mountain path outside the temple, where the rain was gradually easing.
Madara Uchiha walked on while laughing the whole way, his laughter wild and uninhibited, exuberant and utterly carefree, carried through the night after the rain and borne far away by the wind.
Strangely enough, he himself did not know why he was so happy when all he had done was win a tiny wager that was utterly trivial and completely meaningless.
But at this moment, Madara Uchiha felt incomparably refreshed, as though the stifled frustration that had been pressing on him the entire night had finally found an outlet.
The feeling was much like that summer many, many years ago, when he and Hashirama had competed at skipping stones on the riverbank of the Naka River, and he had managed to beat Hashirama for once.
Then... Farewell, Konoha and Junior Brother Genjo!
Such a thought flashed through Madara Uchiha's mind, and then his laughter gradually drifted away, dissolving into the mountain wind after the rain.
The ruined temple gradually fell silent.
At that moment, Isshiki rose to his feet and pressed his palms together. "Excellent! To have met Junior Brother Genjo tonight through the convergence of fate, and to have heard such wonderful words from you, is like being bathed in the spring breeze, like drinking sweet dew. Though the many doubts in this humble monk's heart have not been fully resolved, I have nonetheless gained greatly from it. Now that the rain has stopped, this humble monk will take his leave first. Junior Brother, I hope that if fate allows, we shall meet again someday."
As he spoke, the vigilance in Isshiki's heart had already been raised to the utmost limit. He had never managed to grasp even the slightest bit of the background of this young monk before him, yet the other party had seen through his origins, condition, and even purpose with complete clarity.
If Genjo showed even the slightest sign of wanting to make a move against him, he would stake his life on erupting into a counterattack.
Yet Genjo seemed utterly oblivious to his vigilance. He merely pressed his palms together, returned the salute, and said with a smile, "All Dharmas arise through causes and conditions, and all Dharmas cease through causes and conditions. When fate comes, there is gathering; when fate ends, there is dispersal. Senior Brother, travel safely. This humble monk will not see you out. If fate remains, we will naturally meet again."
Isshiki returned the salute with palms together and turned to walk slowly toward the temple gate. Though his back was turned to Genjo and he appeared completely unguarded, in truth, every nerve in his body was stretched to its limit.
In the darkness, he kept walking, his steps neither hurried nor slow, until at last he blended into the entire mountain forest.
From beginning to end, that young monk did not do a single thing. He merely watched silently in the direction of his departure.
And seeing that he truly had no intention of making a move, Isshiki secretly let out a sigh of relief in his heart.
But even so, he had already made up his mind; he was no longer going to Konoha. He needed to find a place to lie low for a while.
This night had been far too bizarre. Every single thing that had happened, one after another, had gone beyond the framework of understanding he had built of this world over the past thousand years.
And this Genjo… who exactly was he?
Inside the ruined temple, only after that gray figure had completely vanished into the night did Genjo slowly withdraw his gaze, letting out a quiet sigh of relief in his heart.
Although from the very moment this clone had come into existence, he had already mentally prepared himself to put on airs and feign profundity, he had never imagined that the first truly meaningful public display of his holiness would be before two such heavyweight figures, Madara Uchiha and Isshiki Otsutsuki.