Naruto : My Father Ascended — Now What?

One of the Dragnoids—a crimson-scaled warrior named Artak—rose defiantly, spear crackling with dragonic energy.

"Everyone—attack now!" he roared.

In perfect unison, the Dragnoids unleashed their fury. Ten colossal, elemental dragons surged forth—each forged from concentrated Dragonic Essence: Fire, Darkness, Gold, Earth, Wind, Crystal, Ice, Lightning, Light, and Water. Their roars shook the tundra as they barreled toward Reizan like a storm of divine beasts.

But Reizan remained motionless in the sky—unbothered, unreadable.

Then, in a single breath, he twisted his Sword of Nunoboko with precision.

A monstrous black twister erupted from the blade, swirling violently like a vortex birthed from the void. Without pause, Reizan thrust forward an Ash-Bone, its tip glowing with deadly grey energy. The bone was sucked into the twister, and Reizan fired another. And another.

Dozens of Ash-Bones spiraled inside the dark cyclone, creating a monstrous storm of disintegration. It wasn't just wind—it was death incarnate.

The elemental dragons collided with the vortex. For a few seconds, they held.

Then they shattered.

The tornado of ash-bones devoured them whole, reducing the mighty constructs to nothingness. Even the terrain warped and collapsed from the sheer destructive harmony of the spinning Sword of Nunoboko and the ashen storm.

Reizan raised a hand calmly, eyes narrowing.

"Primordial Suppression."

Instantly, the battlefield collapsed under a crushing, unseen weight. Dragnoids shrieked as they dropped to their knees, their wings folding involuntarily. Many coughed blood. The pressure was not just physical—it sank into their very souls, paralyzing body and will alike.

Those who resisted? Their bones cracked. Their minds buckled.

Then came the next wave.

"Conscious Control."

A psychic ripple spread outward like a silent fog. Eyes glazed over. Dozens of Dragnoids twitched—then stood up unnaturally.

Not under their own will.

Half the battlefield was now filled with Dragnoids bowing reverently toward Reizan, their scales glowing faintly from altered soul patterns.

One of them stepped forward. "Forgive us, divine one… we were blind to your glory. We pledge ourselves to your will. Let us cleanse the heretics in your name."

The rest echoed in unison:"All hail our god—Reizan!"

They turned on their kin without hesitation, their claws and Dragonic Energy now aimed at their former allies—those still crushed under the weight of Primordial Suppression.

Reizan hadn't even tampered with their memories. He merely implanted a seed—his belief. And yet, the effect was horrifying. With just a basic form of the skill, he had converted 50 Grandmaster (Pseudo Six-Paths) Dragnoids into his loyal zealots.

Artak, still forced to kneel by the unrelenting gravity, stared in horror.

"This… can't be real…"

Then his blood ran cold.

That black twister—still roaring with embedded Ash-Bones—hadn't dissipated. It was slowly drifting toward them like a god's judgment, cutting through the frozen ground and vaporizing the air itself.

But the converted Dragnoids didn't care.

They flew into it willingly, chasing down Artak and the remaining loyalists—ready to offer them to their new god.

And Reizan?

He simply watched, expressionless.

Artak's body trembled, not from fear—but fury.

Around him, loyal Dragnoids were torn apart—either by the storm of Ash-Bones and black wind or by the traitorous blades of their former kin, now under Reizan's control. It was carnage. Soul-breaking carnage.

His spear pulsed with a dark golden aura, veins of red lightning cracking across it. Despite the suffocating pressure of Primordial Suppression, he rose to one knee, growling like a wounded beast refusing to fall.

"You... cursed demon," Artak spat, his voice strained. "You poison minds… twist warriors into slaves. You're no god. Just a tyrant wearing divine skin."

Reizan descended slowly, his golden eyes gleaming like distant suns, cloak fluttering without wind. The twelve Truth-Seeking Balls behind him rotated ominously, humming with cosmic energy. The Ash-Bone twister was now devouring the far end of the tundra—leaving behind only glassed, scorched earth and floating dust.

Reizan's voice echoed, calm and almost disappointed."If belief in truth makes me a tyrant… then perhaps your world was always too weak for truth."

He pointed toward Artak.

The converted Dragnoids stopped fighting.

"Let him come." Reizan said."Let me show him how futile defiance truly is."

Artak roared.

Golden-Draconic Aura burst from him like a star igniting. His wings flared open, crackling with fire and crystalized energy. Runes appeared along his arms as he channeled every last drop of his Dragonic Core.

"DRAGONIC ASCENT!" he howled, blitzing into the air with his spear aimed at Reizan's heart.

Reizan didn't move.

At the last moment—he simply stepped aside.

BOOM—!!Artak's spear missed by inches, splitting a glacier mountain in two behind Reizan.

But Reizan had already raised his hand.One of his Truth-Seeking Balls compressed midair—then hurled at point-blank range.

Artak tried to defend, but—

CRACK!His spear shattered. His body slammed into the ground, the Truth-Seeking Ball pulsing directly above his chest.

"Your will was strong," Reizan said softly, now hovering just over him."But conviction… means nothing before a higher truth."

The Ash-Bone in Reizan's palm extended one final time.

"Let this be your salvation."

And with that, the bone pierced through Artak's heart. His body immediately turned pale, then crumbled—disintegrating into grey dust that was caught by the wind, vanishing into the tundra.

The battlefield fell silent.

The only sound: the humming of the black vortex still ripping apart the world behind Reizan, like a reminder of what would come to any who resisted.

He looked around at the burning remnants of the battlefield, now littered with traitorous zealots and ash-strewn corpses.

[Stage 2 Complete - Time - 4 minutes]

[ Eliminated - 100 ]

[Proceed to Stage-3 - 1000 Grandmaster (Pseudo-Six Paths Dragnoids) 

A smirk tugged at the corner of Reizan's lips."Proceed."

As the system activated once again, Reizan's mind wandered—not in distraction, but in intrigue.

"So easy to bend them... to rewrite loyalty with just a sliver of will. And that was only the basic level of Conscious Control..."

He thought back to Danzo, the manipulative relic of the old world—how he crafted disposable soldiers in Root, each one ready to die without hesitation. Then Sarutobi, the so-called "God of Shinobi," whose power wasn't just in jutsu—but in ideology, persuasion, control.

And finally, Shisui Uchiha's Kotoamatsukami—a genjutsu so revered it could rewrite thoughts without the victim ever realizing it. An ocular illusion so potent it was feared by gods.

Reizan clenched his fist, feeling the Truth-Seeking Armor ripple with his chakra.

"If that was ocular manipulation… this is divine indoctrination."

With Primordial Suppression, the weak collapse. With Conscious Control, even proud warriors kneel and call him god.

"Once this technique reaches 'Advanced'...""Even those who are equal to me in power will obey—or shatter."

Suddenly, the sky darkened again.

The frozen tundra quaked beneath the sound of war horns. On the distant horizon, a thousand radiant auras surged—each one brimming with ancient power, dense like molten stars. Wings of crystal, obsidian, and flame spread across the sky as a legion of Dragnoids marched forward. The air warped with the overwhelming presence of 1,000 Grandmaster-level (Pseudo-Six Paths) beings, their draconic energy burning like celestial fire—not chakra, but something more primal.

At their head stood ten gleaming Crystal Dragonoids, each towering, regal, their bodies etched in runes and shining white-gold scales. But at the very front, a striking figure descended.

She had rainbow-colored hair that shimmered like starlight, prismatic eyes that swirled with cosmic truth, and dragon horns and tail that marked her divine bloodline. Despite her humanoid elegance, her presence was oppressive—regal and terrifying.

"Lady Elwith…" murmured one of the Crystal Dragnoids behind her, her voice trembling with fury. "This… thing slaughtered our kin like ants. Their bones are turning to ash beneath him."

Elwith's eyes narrowed, but she remained composed—her emotions locked beneath layers of crystalline grace.

"He is just one." Her voice echoed like singing glass. "But I feel it too… there is something ancient in him."She raised her hand. "Activate the Ten-Headed Dragon Seal Formation. Prepare for battle."

At her command, ten golden dragons coiled into the air, roaring as they interlinked above the army, forming a colossal barrier—a seal forged by the ancestors of the Crystal Dragon Clan. Beneath it, dragonoid soldiers began channeling red aura—their lifeforce—into the formation.

The barrier pulsed, glowing with amplifying force, empowering every Dragnoid in the ranks.

High above, Reizan remained unmoved—his cloak of black divine energy lazily flickering in the frigid wind, disintegrating snowflakes before they could land.

His Golden Tensigan (Half-Awakened) gleamed with radiant threat. Behind him, twelve Truth-Seeking Balls rotated silently like moons around a black sun. The Sword of Nunoboko rested in one hand; the other opened slightly, revealing the chilling gray of an Ash Bone protruding through his Truth-Seeking Armor.

He chuckled lightly.

"You there, little rainbow lizard girl."His voice echoed across the tundra like thunder. "I'll give you ten seconds to prepare. Get your little soldiers in order."

He paused, golden eyes narrowing.

"I hope you're stronger than the last ones. They died too fast to amuse me. Don't disappoint me."

The Crystal Dragnoids growled in rage, some baring their fangs. A few even stepped forward—but Elwith raised her hand, stopping them.

"Maintain formation. Let him mock. We will carve his words into his own tomb."

More Dragnoids ascended into the air, red aura still flowing into the barrier, which now shone like a golden sun above the tundra. Elemental energy—fire, wind, light, darkness, ice, and more—rippled across the ranks.

A storm was coming.

Reizan's smirk faded. He raised both arms slowly, his aura expanding. The ground cracked below him, ice fracturing into floating shards.

"Well then…"The wind howled. The tundra darkened. Icy gales whipped across the cracked earth, and the crimson glows of dragonic energy lit the sky like dying stars.

"…Time's up," a devilish voice uttered through the air—low, calm, and deathly final.