Naruto : My Father Ascended — Now What?

As Reizan descended into the final layer of his personal dimension, his body gently phased through molten rock like smoke in the wind. A wave of intense heat greeted him—thick, stifling, and ancient. When he opened his eyes, he found himself floating above a vast, otherworldly world colored in hues of deep crimson and black. The land was cracked and scorched, bleeding lava through jagged wounds in the earth. Rivers of glowing blood flowed like veins through the terrain, and the sky above burned with a low red glow, casting everything in an eerie light.

"So this is... Hell," Reizan muttered to himself, a strange mix of awe and caution curling in his chest. "It's darker than I imagined. Almost exactly like what I used to picture as a child."

He took a few moments just to look. The stillness of this place wasn't peaceful—it was heavy, as if the land itself carried an ancient grudge. Then something caught his eye—pillars of dark light towering in the distance, some crumbling with ruinous energy, others shining ominously. They stood like monoliths across the broken landscape, each emitting a faint hum that stirred something primal in him.

Curious, Reizan activated his dimensional authority and observed the entire realm. "Seventy-two pillars," he counted, his voice echoing slightly in the dense air. As the information streamed into his mind, a grin tugged at his lips. "Anyone I kill in this dimension… they can be reborn as Demon Kings. One full realm lower than me."

He let out a low laugh, eyes glinting with satisfaction. "That means even my enemies become my strength. And since they scale with me, the stronger I become, the stronger they become too. What a twisted blessing."

Flying deeper into the realm, he eventually came upon a colossal black altar, set at the heart of Hell. It looked like an ancient judgment seat, with a long balance beam glowing faintly above it. A chilling wind circled the altar, whispering secrets Reizan could almost understand.

"This altar," he whispered, placing a hand on the beam, "shows the karma of a soul. If it's dark enough, I can purify it or—" he smirked, "—transform them into a Demon King bound to serve me."

He looked up at the sky of this infernal world. "When life eventually begins to flourish here… this place could become a judgment realm. And time…" he paused as a system prompt appeared in his mind. "A thousand years here equals one on Earth… and a thousand in Heaven. But I can speed it up—or slow it down—whenever I want."

Reizan took a deep breath. The air was hot, sharp with sulfur, yet alive. "So this is what it feels like… to hold a world in your hands." A strange, almost overwhelming pride welled up inside him. "This realm is terrifying… and it's mine. I'm not just a wielder of power anymore… I'm the judge, the punisher, the god of this hell."

The silence of his personal dimension was eerie—unsettling to most, but to Reizan Ōtsutsuki, it was serenity. His boots crunched lightly against the barren crimson floor as he walked toward the altar, his presence alone commanding the very space around him to bend. The silence was broken only by a slow, amused exhale.

"Interesting…" Reizan murmured, gazing at the ever-turning river of blood beside him. "This place truly reflects what I am."

The blood churned with unrest, whispering secrets of souls long gone, perhaps trapped, perhaps willingly consumed. Reizan's golden eyes shimmered with a gleam of satisfaction—and hunger. A hunger for more power, more control, more… everything.

"I can summon a judge here now," he mused, lifting a hand as if beckoning an unseen force. "A soul organizer, of sorts. A gatekeeper who lines up the dead, judges them in my absence, and keeps this hellscape from falling into chaos when I'm not around."

He smiled—not from joy, but from the cold comfort of knowing that he could command even the structure of the afterlife itself.

"But of course, I can also summon the Demon Kings when the time is right…" Reizan paused, his voice quieter now. "Though I can't just create one. They must be exceptional—uniquely wicked or mighty enough to deserve it. Otherwise, they're just a waste of space."

That admission stung him more than he wanted to admit. Even among monsters, quality mattered.

"Now," he said, raising his hand and taking a step forward, "let's test what attacks and special abilities I can use here."

The blood river responded to him, swirling violently. Reizan's expression darkened with anticipation.

"This is the power of the Blood River," he declared. "Infused with the Law of Erasure. Anything beneath my power that touches it will have their memories wiped clean. Their soul? Gone, if I will it. Erased like they never existed."

A tremor of chakra surged through him. "But… it's costly," he admitted, flexing his fingers. "This move burns through a tremendous amount of chakra, depending on how many opponents it's used on."

Still, the temptation was too much. Raising his hands again, Reizan infused more energy into the river. From its raging depths, a massive dragon formed—formed entirely from sentient blood. It roared, towering over 500 meters, its serpentine body writhing with fury.

And then, Reizan smiled.

The dragon split.

And split again.

And again.

Until the sky was filled with over four hundred blood dragons, each one with glowing, intelligent eyes that seemed to hunger for destruction. They stared down at the world below, awaiting only their master's word.

"Go," Reizan whispered.

The blood dragons dove like meteors. The moment they struck, violent explosions erupted across the land. A chain reaction followed, each dragon exploding into a devastating wave of energy. The resulting storm was cataclysmic—raging crimson clouds, dark as nightmares, thundered across the dimension. The very sky trembled. The earth cracked and wept.

If anyone had been there, they would've been annihilated. A Low-Stage Supreme wouldn't have even had time to scream. Even a Mid-Stage Supreme would've been grievously injured.

And yet…

Reizan sighed.

"This attack…" he muttered, "it's still not enough—not at my level."

He looked at the chaotic aftermath with mixed emotions. It was… beautiful. But not complete.

"It's useful for intimidation, or when I'm overwhelmed," he admitted. "But I'll need more."

Then, something stirred within him. Another power awakening—ancient and insidious.

Reizan's pupils dilated. "Ah… this one has a name."

He grinned wickedly.

"Karma Judgement."

It resonated deep in his bones—a judgmental force not of balance or fairness, but of overwhelming dominance.

"With this," Reizan whispered, voice trembling with power, "I can sever someone's fate at the altar. If their sins are too great, their connection to life can be cut."

He paused.

"Or better yet… I can offer up my own sins—use my darkness to crush their destiny. Doesn't matter how righteous they are… if I'm worse, they fall."

He laughed—an unfiltered, raw laugh. "What a villainous ability… It suits me. No, it defines me."

He looked at his hand, clenching it into a fist. "My clan… The karma we've stacked across millennia must be incomprehensibly vast. That's why this ability can even affect those a realm above me. Perhaps this is my most dangerous weapon—my ace for enemies too stubborn to fall."

The silence returned as the laughter faded. Reizan stood still for a moment, letting the emotions wash over him.

He felt alive.

But there was still more.

"The final ability… let's see what else this realm hides."

He raised both hands this time, summoning his full authority.

The sky cracked open.

A colossal demonic face emerged—its features were unmistakably Reizan's, but twisted, monstrous, divine. The air warped under the weight of his bloodlust. Even the atmosphere recoiled. The ground below began to fracture, unable to withstand the oppressive force bearing down from above.

Then it appeared.

A Reaper, nearly 1,000 kilometers tall, formed from mist and cloud and blood-soaked memory. It wasn't solid, but it felt real—too real. A scythe, glimmering with death and inevitability, rose into the sky.

Then… it fell.

No explosion. No sound.

Just obliteration.

And yet, it left no scar—only silence. The demon face vanished. The bloodlust dissipated.

But Reizan stood there, breathing hard. "That… was formidable."

He shook his head in awe.

"That attack kills all enemies in sight. Steals their lifespan. Curses them. And the one first struck by the scythe—" he paused, "—dies instantly. Doesn't matter their power… unless they're a god."

He laughed again, but softer now. "Hell… this place will become a grave for my enemies."

There was a certain satisfaction there—a dark, twisted kind of comfort. This place, for all its blood and chaos, was his.

"I don't have any life here yet," he muttered thoughtfully, walking toward the swirling portal beginning to open nearby. "But I can bring some from Planet Alpha. And if I find anyone worthy… maybe I'll kill them and make them my personal Demon King."

His smile deepened.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, Reizan exited his personal dimension.

A shimmer of light washed over him, and he stepped back into his room. The air was still. A candle still burned where he had left it.

Only a few minutes had passed.

"Four days there," Reizan said to himself, rubbing his jaw. "And only minutes here. Perfect. I can train endlessly in my dimension—sharpen myself without wasting time in this world."

His mind turned to the near future.

"The Awakening Ceremony," he whispered. "It's coming. And I need more information."

Reizan turned toward the comm-stone on his desk, its runes flickering in the low light.

"It's time I call Tensai," he said.