Chapter 432: Indra Is the Most Suitable One

"And... the majesty and resolve to establish rules through absolute strength and wisdom, and make others fear and obey!"

"And those qualities..."

Black Zetsu "looked" at Indra's Sharingan, which was gradually beginning to shine despite the turmoil still swirling within them, and spoke each word deliberately.

"Are precisely what you, Indra, possess."

"And what Asura... lacks!"

Indra was completely taken aback.

The doubts, resentment, and self-doubt in his heart seemed to be peeled away, sorted through, and even... redefined, layer by layer, by Black Zetsu's words, which were filled with such "reason" and lofty perspective.

The self-denial born from his defeat seemed to have found an entirely new—and far more "elevated"—outlet.

It wasn't that he had done anything wrong. It wasn't that he lacked ability.

Rather, his "scope" and "role" were meant to be those of a leader, not an executor!

His father had judged him, a leader, by the standards applied to an executor. The entire test had been fundamentally misplaced—and unfair!

For a moment, he was speechless, his mind churning like a raging sea.

Inside the dim room, the air seemed to have frozen because of Black Zetsu's theory of leadership, only to tremble faintly along with the violent turmoil in Indra's heart.

"So, Indra..."

Black Zetsu's voice sounded once more, low and seductive, like the counsel of a most sympathetic adviser. Every word struck against the cracks that had already formed in Indra's mental defenses.

"You are the one best suited to inherit the Ninja Sect."

"Your talent, your strength, your vision—you were born to stand above others and show them the way."

It paused, then deftly shifted the subject, incorporating Asura into its "blueprint" as well.

"As for Asura... the little patience and affinity he possesses can only be properly utilized under your leadership. Only then can he be assigned to the position best suited to him and bring his abilities to their fullest value."

"Otherwise, with his limited vision and scope, he ultimately... won't be able to accomplish anything truly significant. He'll merely waste himself on endless trivial matters."

These words not only affirmed Indra's position as a "leader," but also "accommodated" Asura's strengths. It was as though Black Zetsu were painting a beautiful picture of the two brothers each fulfilling their respective roles beneath Indra's wise leadership, leading the Ninja Sect toward prosperity.

For Indra, who craved recognition while harboring complicated feelings toward his younger brother, the temptation was immense.

Yet the cold wall of reality still stood before him.

A conflicted expression appeared on Indra's face. His clenched fist tightened until his knuckles turned white, his nails nearly digging into his palm.

Silence spread through the room for a long time—until even the last trace of daylight outside the window had been swallowed by the night.

Only then did he finally speak in a hoarse voice, filled with helplessness.

"But... it's already been decided. Father announced the result himself. Everyone in the Ninja Sect heard it. I... what can I possibly do now?"

That grand announcement, those cheers raised for Asura—they were like invisible shackles, binding him where he stood.

"What do you want to do?"

Black Zetsu did not give him an answer directly. Instead, with a simple question, it tossed the choice back to Indra.

Its "gaze" burned intensely, as though it could ignite the ambition and resentment buried deep within Indra's heart.

Indra froze.

What did he want to do?

Take back the position that should have been his?

Prove that his father was wrong?

Lead the Ninja Sect down the path he believed to be the correct one?

His mind was a chaotic mess. The pride of the past, the humiliation of the present, his confidence in his own strength, his inability to understand his father's judgment, the vision of a "leader" that Black Zetsu had painted for him... every emotion and thought collided violently within him.

"Yes... what should I do..." Indra murmured unconsciously, his gaze unfocused, as though he had lost his way at a crossroads of fate.

Another long, suffocating silence followed.

Finally, he drew a deep breath, as though making some sort of decision, and forcibly suppressed the turmoil in his heart.

Slowly, he raised his head. His gaze refocused as he looked toward Black Zetsu in the shadows, his eyes now carrying an unprecedented gravity and scrutiny.

"Black Zetsu..."

He spoke slowly, his voice recovering some of its composure.

"I don't know where you came from, nor do I understand why you're telling me all this."

Indra stared directly into the darkness. "But you... seem to know my father exceptionally well."

That knowledge went beyond that of an ordinary observer. It even carried a kind of... profound insight into the truth, as though forged through the passage of countless years.

At his words, Black Zetsu gave an enigmatic chuckle. The sound was particularly eerie in the silence.

"Know him? Heh... of course I know him."

It did not deny it. Instead, it admitted it with a calmness—and even a hint of cruelty.

That only made it seem more mysterious and dangerous.

Indra's gaze sharpened. He took half a step forward, and his newly awakened three-tomoe Sharingan emerged on its own!

A crimson light illuminated the dim room. Three black tomoe slowly revolved like living things, radiating a unique ocular power capable of seeing through falsehood and perceiving fluctuations in emotion!

"Then tell me..."

Indra's voice suddenly turned cold and resolute, carrying an oppressive force that would brook no deception.

"Why? Why did you say that Father... doesn't like me?"

Perhaps this was the true core of all his pain, resentment, and struggle.

He needed an answer—one that could unravel the knot in his heart and allow him to understand everything.

"Before these eyes..."

Indra stared fixedly at Black Zetsu as the power of his Sharingan poured forth without restraint.

"You'd better not... try to deceive me."

Faced with Indra's aggressive questioning and the pressure of his Sharingan, Black Zetsu showed no trace of panic.

It merely nodded faintly, as though it had anticipated this moment long ago.

"Of course I won't," it said calmly. "Since you want to know, then I... will tell you."

It paused briefly, as though organizing its thoughts—or perhaps recalling certain distant and weighty memories.

Then, in a slow and clear tone, it began its analysis. Rather than answering the question of whether Hagoromo liked him directly, however, it approached the matter from the more fundamental level of ideals.

"Let's not speak for now of your father's complicated and difficult-to-understand... identity. Nor shall we discuss those actions of his that appear selfless, yet may conceal selfish motives beneath the surface..."

It cleverly avoided directly attacking the Sage of Six Paths' character, instead turning its attention to his ideals themselves—something that would make it easier for Indra to judge based on his own observations and reasoning.

"Let's speak only of the ideals he has always... preached."

A faint, almost imperceptible mockery entered Black Zetsu's voice.

"Spreading chakra and building a peaceful world on the basis of 'mutual understanding between people'..."

It "looked" at Indra and posed a question that struck directly at the heart of the matter.

"Do you think such a world... can truly exist?"

"Or rather, do you believe it is truly... possible?"