Naruto: End of the Shinobi World

What truly drew everyone’s attention, however, was not the land itself—

But the people who lived upon it.

And the relationships between them.

The scene shifted across different regions.

By a river, two small settlements fought over better fishing grounds and access to water. Armed with crude stone tools, bone spears, and wooden clubs, they hurled rocks and charged at one another, screaming.

There were no more than twenty or thirty people involved.

The battle lacked any real structure—more like a chaotic brawl.

Yet blood flowed freely. Cries rang out as people collapsed one after another.

Elsewhere, in a hilly region, several tribal groups clashed over hunting territories and food storage disputes.

Perhaps fifty or sixty combatants.

The shouting shook the air.

The fighting was fierce—

But confined.

Occasionally, the Heavenly Curtain swept over slightly larger ”cities” or ”alliances,” where conflicts involved over a hundred participants.

But that was the upper limit.

The methods remained primitive and brutal. Individual prowess dominated. Tactical coordination was nearly nonexistent.

”This… this is the world from a thousand years ago?”

”Why does it feel like everyone’s just constantly fighting?”

”And the scale… a few dozen people? That’s what they called ’war’?”

”Even a random C-rank escort mission these days runs into bandits bigger than that.”

”The biggest groups here barely reach a hundred…”

”It’s chaos. Compared to today’s Five Great Nations and established shinobi system, this era was far more disorderly.”

Then someone redirected the discussion.

”Hey! Aren’t you missing the point?” a voice called urgently. ”Kaguya! Kaguya Ōtsutsuki came here to ’plant a tree’! The God Tree! That has to fundamentally change everything!”

”Planting a tree… what does that even mean? Dig a hole, bury it, wait for fruit?” someone asked uncertainly.

”It can’t be that simple! Didn’t you hear? ’Sow the God Tree.’ ’Condense the Chakra Fruit.’ That tree and that fruit are definitely related to our chakra!”

Gradually, more people grasped the implication.

”Does that mean… our chakra came from the fruit of that God Tree?”

”And the process of ’planting’ it…”

A chill ran through the speaker before they dared finish the thought.

Combined with earlier hints that chakra was an ”invasion,” and the Ōtsutsuki’s self-proclaimed status as divine beings, an unsettling theory began to solidify:

The arrival from beyond the sky a thousand years ago was no accident.

It was agricultural colonization.

And the chakra-based power system upon which they depended—

Might be the direct result of that sowing.

So what were they?

Crops?

Livestock?

Ingredients?

Most still knew nothing of the precise meaning of ”planting,” nor its process, nor its immediate consequences. They could only speculate—caught between craving truth and fearing it.

Only a handful of those truly informed felt their hearts tremble violently.

The Planting of the God Tree

Kaguya eventually chose a massive basin encircled by mountains.

There were no elaborate rituals.

No earth-shattering spectacle.

She merely raised her hand.

In her palm appeared a seed no larger than a fingernail—yet radiating a pure white light that made one’s heart tremble.

Though small, it seemed to contain compressed stars and condensed laws of reality.

With a flick of her finger, the seed shot downward as a streak of light, silently embedding itself into the fertile, vibrant soil.

Hummm—

A tremor rippled outward.

It felt as though it came from the planet’s core—

Yet it resonated only within sensitive souls.

In the next instant—

A dazzling yet gentle emerald light erupted skyward from the point of impact.

The soil churned.

Stone gave way.

A tender green sprout broke through the earth—

And then it grew.

Not slowly.

But at a speed visible to the naked eye—faster than vision could truly track.

Roots plunged deep like enraged dragons.

The trunk thickened and branched.

Leaves unfurled in shimmering jade brilliance.

In mere breaths—

A colossal tree towered at the basin’s center.

Its trunk was as massive as a mountain ridge.

Its canopy spread like a clouded sky.

Leaves rustled without wind, radiating dense life force and an indescribable, gentle yet supreme pressure.

Streams of emerald energy pulsed between canopy and roots, resonating harmoniously with the land itself.

This was the Ōtsutsuki Clan’s treasure—

Or rather, their tool.

The God Tree.

Kaguya looked up at the miracle tree with quiet satisfaction.

She did not depart.

Instead, beside its smooth, jade-like exposed roots, she found a flat space and seated herself cross-legged.

Like a vigilant guardian.

Or a gardener waiting for fruit to ripen.

”The natural energy here… is sufficient,” she murmured.

”Perhaps the Chakra Fruit will condense sooner than expected. When it does… my mission will be complete.”

Her tone was calm. No anticipation. No impatience.

Only duty.

Black Zetsu wriggled out once more from her sleeve.

Tilting its shapeless body upward, it asked curiously in its sticky voice:

”Mother~ When the fruit ripens… won’t you eat it?”

Kaguya glanced down at it and shook her head.

”All God Tree fruits contain immense power. But they must be submitted to the clan for allocation and study.”

”Consuming one privately… is strictly forbidden.”

Her explanation was simple—and revealed the rigid hierarchy and resource control within the Ōtsutsuki Clan.

For her, completing the mission and delivering the fruit was her obligation.

Black Zetsu made a small ”Oh,” seemingly half-understanding.

It stopped pressing the matter.

Instead, it began crawling around her and between the God Tree’s roots, as if exploring a new and fascinating toy.

In the Real World

Watching this—

The real Black Zetsu nearly exploded.

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