The massive eight-headed serpent coiled within the confines of the Four Violet Flames Battle Encampment, its enormous body causing the very foundations of Sound Village to tremble with each movement. Each head was the size of a small building, and when all eight moved in unison, the sight was both mesmerizing and terrifying. The creature's forked tongues flicked out continuously, tasting the air for weakness, for opportunity, for blood.
"Hissssss..."
The sound emanated from all eight mouths simultaneously, creating an otherworldly chorus that seemed to resonate from the depths of the earth itself. The serpent's scales gleamed white in the afternoon light, each one the size of a shield and harder than steel. This was no ordinary summoning technique—this was Orochimaru's ultimate transformation, the legendary Yamata-no-Orochi made manifest.
Standing before this colossal creature, Itachi's Susanoo appeared almost delicate by comparison. The red chakra construct had reformed in its full armored glory, the ethereal warrior radiating an aura of absolute determination. In its right hand, the gourd-shaped chakra focus gleamed with an inner light, and from its mouth, the legendary blade extended once more.
The Totsuka Sword hummed with power, its edge seeming to cut through reality itself. The weapon was more than just concentrated chakra—it was a manifestation of one of the most powerful sealing techniques in existence. But against an opponent like Orochimaru, even legendary weapons required precise application.
Susanoo shifted its stance, the massive sword catching the light as it prepared for battle. The armored construct moved with fluid grace despite its enormous size, each motion calculated and purposeful. This was the moment of truth—the culmination of months of hunting, planning, and preparation.
"CRASH!"
The collision between the two titans sent shockwaves through the entire enclosed area. The eight-headed serpent had launched itself forward with incredible speed, its massive body creating deep trenches in the earth as it moved. Susanoo met the charge head-on, the legendary sword flashing in a perfect arc that caught the first attacking head at the junction between skull and neck.
"Itachi?" Shisui's voice carried a note of genuine surprise. Throughout their partnership, Itachi had always been the more cautious of the two, preferring calculated strikes and strategic positioning. To see him engage in direct combat with such a massive opponent was completely out of character.
But there was no time for questions. The remaining seven heads of the Yamata-no-Orochi spread out like the petals of some deadly flower, each one seeking a different angle of attack. The serpent's strategy was simple but effective—overwhelming force from multiple directions simultaneously.
The first head came from the left, its jaws opening wide enough to swallow a house. Rows of teeth like ivory daggers gleamed in the afternoon sun, each one dripping with venom that sizzled where it touched the ground. The second head approached from the right, moving with a serpentine grace that was hypnotic to watch. The remaining heads positioned themselves to attack from above and below, creating a cage of death around the red Susanoo.
"WHOOSH!"
Susanoo's blade moved with impossible speed, the Totsuka Sword cutting through the air with a sound like tearing silk. The first head, the one that had been leading the charge, was severed cleanly at the base of its neck. The second head, caught mid-strike, shared the same fate as the ethereal blade continued its arc.
"THUD! THUD!"
Two massive serpent heads crashed to the ground, their weight creating small craters in the earth. White scales scattered like snow, and thick, dark blood began to pool around the severed necks. The remaining six heads recoiled instinctively, their movements becoming more erratic as they processed the loss of their companions.
But the battle was far from over. Three more heads had already repositioned themselves, approaching from Susanoo's blind spots with lethal intent. Their movements were coordinated, suggesting that despite the apparent independence of each head, Orochimaru's consciousness was directing them all with tactical precision.
Shisui's Mangekyō Sharingan spun rapidly as he prepared to intervene. His own Susanoo began to form, the familiar green chakra taking shape around him. He wouldn't stand by and watch Itachi face this monster alone, regardless of whatever plan his partner might have in mind.
But before he could complete his technique, something caught his eye. A flash of red light in Itachi's Susanoo's left hand, different from the weapon in its right. The chakra was condensing, taking shape, forming something that hadn't been there moments before.
The red chakra gradually solidified, revealing a shield unlike anything Shisui had ever seen. Its surface was covered with intricate patterns that seemed to shift and move in the light. The designs were ancient, almost mystical in their complexity, and they seemed to pulse with a power all their own.
"CLANG!"
The three attacking serpent heads struck the shield simultaneously, and the sound was like a mountain falling. But the shield held firm, not even trembling under the massive impact. Instead, it was the attacking heads that suffered damage—white scales cracked and fell away, revealing the flesh beneath, and thick blood began to flow from where they had made contact.
"Yata no Kagami," Itachi whispered, naming the legendary mirror that was said to be capable of reflecting any attack.
"Incredible!" Shisui breathed, his eyes wide with amazement. "Itachi, it looks like you've been hiding quite a few treasures."
Kakashi, who had been preparing to join the battle, paused and stepped back. His analytical mind quickly assessed the situation and reached the same conclusion that Shisui had—this was no longer a battle that required multiple participants. The combination of the Totsuka Sword and the Yata Mirror had given Itachi everything he needed to handle the Yamata-no-Orochi on his own.
"This style of combat isn't suitable for me anyway," Kakashi murmured, his Sharingan taking in every detail of the battle for future reference. "Against something that size, precision strikes are far more effective than area attacks."
Meanwhile, Shisui adjusted his own approach. Rather than manifesting his full Susanoo, he began gathering chakra in his palm, preparing a different type of support. Green light began to coalesce, forming arrows of pure chakra that would allow him to strike at weak points without interfering with Itachi's overall strategy.
"Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!"
The chakra arrows flew with unerring accuracy, each one finding its mark in the eyes and soft tissues of the remaining serpent heads. The attacks weren't meant to cause fatal damage—they were meant to distract, to create openings, to ensure that Itachi could focus on his primary objective without worrying about attacks from unexpected angles.
On the surface, the battle seemed to be going decisively in favor of the two Uchiha. The mighty Yamata-no-Orochi was being systematically dismantled, its attacks blocked or parried, its heads severed or wounded. But appearances could be deceiving, especially when dealing with someone as cunning as Orochimaru.
"Haha, hahaha!" The laughter emerged from one of the wounded heads, Orochimaru's voice carrying that familiar note of dark amusement. "Do you really think attacks of this level will be effective against me?"
Even as the words were spoken, something horrifying began to happen. The severed necks of the two heads that had been cut away began to writhe and pulse. White flesh and blood bubbled and reformed, extending outward like some grotesque flowering plant. Within moments, new heads had grown to replace the ones that had been lost.
"Heh, heh, heh..." The laughter continued, now emanating from all eight heads simultaneously. "You should know better than anyone that I don't die so easily."
But the regeneration wasn't the only change taking place. Along the serpent's massive body, the pristine white scales began to shift and crack. From beneath them, sharp protrusions began to emerge—bone spurs similar to those from the Corpse Bone Pulse, but integrated seamlessly with the Yamata-no-Orochi's natural armor.
The transformation was both fascinating and terrifying to watch. Orochimaru was combining multiple kekkei genkai and forbidden techniques, creating something that had never existed before. The serpent's defensive capabilities were being enhanced exponentially, while its offensive potential was being multiplied by the addition of ranged bone projectiles.
"Swish!"
But Itachi had been watching, waiting, analyzing. His Mangekyō Sharingan had been tracking the flow of chakra throughout the massive creature's body, identifying patterns, locating the source. The moment the regeneration began, he knew exactly where Orochimaru's true body was hiding.
With a fluid motion that spoke to years of training and combat experience, Susanoo drove the Totsuka Sword forward. The blade pierced through the serpent's body with surgical precision, penetrating the third head from the left at the exact center of its neck. The attack bypassed the creature's enhanced defenses entirely, striking at the one point where Orochimaru's consciousness was most concentrated.
"SQUELCH!"
The sound of the blade penetrating flesh was oddly muffled, as though the weapon was cutting through something more than mere physical matter. The tip of the Totsuka Sword emerged from the other side of the serpent's neck, glowing with an ethereal light that seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat.
"Have you seen through my true nature?" Orochimaru's voice carried a note of genuine surprise, though his tone remained relatively calm. "Impressive. But you should know that normal physical attacks are useless against my software-modified body."
The confidence in his voice was absolute. Orochimaru had spent years perfecting his body modification techniques, turning his physical form into something that could survive almost any injury. Blades passed through him like water, crushing blows were absorbed and dispersed, and even total dismemberment was merely an inconvenience.
"What... what is happening?!" The confidence vanished from Orochimaru's voice in an instant, replaced by something that sounded almost like panic.
A sealing force had erupted from the Totsuka Sword, but this wasn't a normal sealing technique. The power that flowed from the blade was ancient, primal, and absolutely irresistible. It reached into Orochimaru's very essence, grasping not just his chakra but his soul itself.
"No... this is impossible..."
Orochimaru's chakra began to drain away at an alarming rate, but it wasn't being destroyed or dispersed. Instead, it was being drawn into the blade itself, pulled toward the gourd-shaped focus in Susanoo's hand. The legendary weapon was revealing its true nature—not just a sword, but a conduit for one of the most powerful sealing techniques ever created.
The red blade began to withdraw from the serpent's body, moving slowly and deliberately. As it pulled back, more and more of Orochimaru's essence was drawn along with it. The massive form of the Yamata-no-Orochi began to shrink and distort, its carefully maintained shape becoming unstable as its creator's power was systematically siphoned away.
When the sword finally cleared the wound, it began to retract back into the gourd. But it wasn't traveling alone—a stream of chakra, visible to the naked eye, was being pulled into the weapon's focus. Within that stream, the outline of a human figure could be seen, struggling against the inexorable pull but unable to break free.
"Could this sword be the Totsuka no Tsurugi?!" Orochimaru's voice was filled with a mixture of awe and terror. "The legendary Sword of Totsuka! But that's supposed to be a myth!"
His struggles became more frantic as he realized the true nature of the weapon that had pierced him. The Totsuka Sword wasn't just a sealing technique—it was a one-way portal to a realm of eternal imprisonment. Those who were cut by its blade weren't just sealed away; they were transported to a dimension where escape was impossible.
"Why is it in your possession?!" The question carried a note of desperate confusion. "How did you come to wield such a weapon?!"
But there was no time for answers. The sealing process was accelerating, and Orochimaru's form was being drawn inexorably toward the gourd's mouth. His voice began to fade, echoing as though from a great distance.
"Totsuka no Tsurugi?!" Both Shisui and Kakashi spoke the name simultaneously, their voices filled with wonder and disbelief.
Neither of them had ever heard of such a weapon, despite their extensive knowledge of legendary artifacts and forbidden techniques. The name itself suggested something from the realm of myth and legend, a weapon that existed more in stories than in reality.
"The Sword of Totsuka," Kakashi murmured, his mind racing through every text he had ever read. "A blade that can seal away anything it cuts, trapping the target in an eternal genjutsu. I thought it was just a legend."
But the evidence was undeniable. The once-mighty Yamata-no-Orochi was collapsing in on itself, its massive form dissolving as its creator was pulled into the weapon's dimensional prison. The creature that had seemed invincible moments before was now nothing more than dissipating chakra and falling scales.
In the end, the legendary serpent was sealed completely within the gourd in Susanoo's hand. The weapon pulsed once with red light, then became still, its surface reflecting the afternoon sun like polished bronze. The battle was over, and one of the most dangerous missing-nin in history had been captured.
Itachi's tense expression gradually relaxed, the weight of months of preparation and pursuit finally lifting from his shoulders. If Orochimaru had continued to fight at human size, relying on his speed and cunning, this battle could have dragged on for hours with no guarantee of success. The snake's legendary vitality and his mastery of forbidden techniques made him nearly impossible to kill through conventional means.
But the Yamata no Jutsu, while impressively powerful, had also been Orochimaru's downfall. The technique required him to concentrate his consciousness in a single location, making him vulnerable to the Totsuka Sword's sealing power. His greatest strength had become his greatest weakness.
The red chakra of Susanoo began to fade as Itachi released the technique. The armored construct dissolved slowly, its form becoming translucent before vanishing entirely. Itachi's eyes returned to their normal obsidian color, but the strain of maintaining the advanced Susanoo was evident in his posture.
"Drip... drip..."
Blood began to flow from the corner of his left eye, the crimson drops standing out starkly against his pale skin. The advanced form of Susanoo came at a tremendous cost in terms of both chakra and ocular power. Extended use could lead to permanent blindness, and even brief activation left lasting effects.
Shisui, who had been maintaining his own partial Susanoo throughout the battle, was experiencing similar symptoms. Blood trickled from both of his eyes as he released his technique, and he swayed slightly on his feet. The third form of Susanoo was simply too powerful to maintain for extended periods without serious consequences.
"The village is secure," Shisui reported, his voice slightly strained but still professional. "The ANBU teams have taken control of Sound Village's key positions. Most of the enemy forces fled when they saw the barrier technique activate."
Kakashi nodded, his own Sharingan still active as he surveyed the battlefield. "I'll use the Flying Thunder God technique to get Itachi back to the village immediately. The Hokage will want to see our prisoner as soon as possible."
With the battle concluded and Orochimaru sealed away, the immediate crisis was over. But everyone present understood that this was only the beginning. The interrogation of one of the legendary Sannin would likely reveal information that could reshape their understanding of the current political situation.
The Hokage Tower stood as a monument to Konoha's strength and stability, its red roof gleaming in the afternoon sun. But within its walls, the atmosphere was tense with anticipation. The successful capture of Orochimaru represented a victory that few had dared to hope for, but it also raised questions that would be difficult to answer.
In the Hokage's office, four figures stood in formation. Minato, resplendent in his white and blue robes, maintained his characteristic calm demeanor despite the magnitude of the situation. Beside him, the Third Hokage looked older than his years, his face bearing the weight of decades of difficult decisions. Itachi and Kakashi completed the group, both still showing signs of their recent battle.
The Third Hokage's expression was particularly complex. Orochimaru had once been his student, one of three disciples who had been destined for greatness. To see him reduced to a sealed prisoner was both a relief and a source of deep sorrow. The bonds between teacher and student were not easily broken, even when betrayal had poisoned the relationship.
Minato caught Itachi's eye and nodded once, a simple gesture that conveyed both approval and instruction. The young Uchiha understood immediately, his own expression becoming more focused as he prepared to demonstrate the fruits of their victory.
Itachi's eyes shifted to the familiar crimson of his Mangekyō Sharingan, the three-tomoe pattern spinning slowly as he channeled his power. The strain of using the advanced Susanoo so recently was evident in the way his jaw tightened, but he pressed forward regardless.
"Susanoo," he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority.
The red chakra construct began to form around him, though this time it was only a partial manifestation. The armored torso and arms appeared, but the legs and lower body remained ethereal. Even this reduced form was impressive, towering over the assembled group with an aura of barely contained power.
Susanoo's giant hand opened, and within its palm, the familiar gourd-shaped focus materialized. The weapon pulsed with a soft red light, and faint sounds could be heard emanating from within—not quite screams, but something that spoke to the presence of a conscious mind trapped within its confines.
Under Itachi's careful control, the mouth of the gourd opened with a sound like a cork being pulled from a bottle. A stream of chakra flowed out, condensing and solidifying until it formed the shape of a human figure. The process was both fascinating and slightly disturbing to watch—a reversal of the sealing technique that had been used to capture their prisoner.
Orochimaru appeared in the center of the office, his form solid and apparently unchanged from his capture. But his eyes held a different quality now—the look of someone who had experienced something beyond normal human understanding. The Totsuka Sword's prison was said to trap its victims in an eternal genjutsu, and the experience had clearly left its mark.
He looked up at Itachi's Susanoo with an expression of grudging respect mixed with lingering fear. The power of the legendary weapon was something that even he, with all his knowledge of forbidden techniques, had never encountered before. To be at the mercy of such a force was a humbling experience for someone accustomed to being the predator rather than the prey.
Then his gaze shifted to take in the others present, and his expression became more calculating. Despite his imprisonment, his mind was still sharp, still analyzing, still looking for advantages and opportunities. This was exactly the kind of situation that Orochimaru excelled at—using information as a weapon when physical power wasn't available.
"Haha," he said, his voice carrying that familiar note of dark amusement. "This place is quite different from what I remember."
The comment seemed casual, almost conversational, but everyone present understood the implications. Orochimaru was observing, cataloging changes, gathering intelligence even in his current helpless state. His calm demeanor in the face of capture was unnerving, suggesting that he believed he still held some form of advantage.
Minato's frown deepened as he processed the statement. Orochimaru's observation about the village being "different" could refer to any number of things—physical changes, political developments, or something more subtle. The fact that he was drawing attention to these differences suggested that they were significant in some way.
The Third Hokage's expression grew even more troubled. He had known Orochimaru for decades, had taught him, had watched him grow from a promising student into a monster. Every word, every gesture, every subtle inflection carried meaning when dealing with someone that cunning.
Orochimaru's eyes moved among the group, taking in their reactions, cataloging their responses. His serpentine pupils dilated slightly as he focused on each individual, reading their body language, their chakra signatures, their emotional states. Even as a prisoner, he was gathering information that might prove useful later.
Finally, his gaze settled on Minato, and a slow smile spread across his features. It was not a pleasant expression—it carried hints of knowledge, of secrets, of truths that others might not want to hear.
"You seem to have quite a few questions you'd like to confirm with me," he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Don't you?"
"Swoosh!"
The sound of displaced air was the only warning as Minato disappeared from his position and reappeared directly in front of Orochimaru. The Flying Thunder God technique was executed with such speed and precision that it seemed almost instantaneous. One moment the Fourth Hokage was standing across the room, the next he was face-to-face with the captured Sannin.
Their eyes met and held, two brilliant minds engaging in a battle of wills and intelligence. Minato's blue eyes were sharp with concentration, while Orochimaru's serpentine pupils reflected a mixture of amusement and calculation. The air between them seemed to crackle with tension, though neither moved so much as a muscle.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The confrontation was taking place on a level beyond words—a clash of intellects, of wills, of secrets that ran deeper than most people could imagine. The others in the room watched in fascination and growing unease as the two stared each other down.
Then Orochimaru's lips moved, forming words that were spoken so quietly that only Minato could hear them. His positioning was deliberate, calculated to avoid Itachi's line of sight while ensuring that his message reached its intended target.
"Namikaze Minato," he whispered, his voice carrying across the inches that separated them like a serpent's hiss. "You are not from this world after all."