The Senju brothers and Uchiha Izuna were forced to leave the stage—but Uchiha Madara remained.
He had already dispelled the binding spell on himself, sustaining his existence with his own power. However, due to the bacterial matter that made up his body, he was still restricted by the little white snake.
Even so, Madara had no intention of returning to the Pure Land.
From Orochimaru's words, he had already confirmed that his grand plan had been exposed—and half-destroyed. This moment, now, was his last chance at reclaiming life.
As he watched Orochimaru and the White Snake Sage mercilessly assault the little white snake, Madara turned his eyes to the invisible barrier encaging him, frowning deeply.
Without the immense natural energy supplied by the strange snake, Madara knew he stood no chance against Orochimaru. If he simply sat back and allowed the strange snake to be eliminated, he'd lose even that slim hope of escape.
He had to act—if not to win, then at least to survive.
Madara released Susanoo and looked up toward the sky. His eyes shone with a deep purple glow.
"Tengai Shinsei!"
In that instant, the heavens lit up with fire. A massive meteorite tore through the night sky, crashing down toward the earth.
Orochimaru, who had been draining the little white snake's natural energy, paused and glanced skyward. He quickly calculated the meteorite's trajectory—and smirked.
"Courageous. But poorly calculated."
Though the space around Madara had been warped by his own six paths-level ocular powers, it wasn't stable—it wasn't self-contained, nor was it isolated from chakra or spiritual energy. But even so, it retained the basic properties of spatial confinement. Madara attempting to brute-force his way out was hopeless.
If anything, his effort might've been more useful helping the little white snake from afar.
BOOM—
The meteorite struck with a thunderous roar, sand and debris rippling outward like a tidal wave. A vast crater opened where Madara once stood.
Orochimaru briefly considered letting the meteorite land on Madara by canceling the space technique—just for fun—but quickly dismissed the idea. There was no need. As long as Madara remained trapped, he was no threat.
Still, Orochimaru knew Madara wouldn't sit still forever. This was just delaying the inevitable.
Inside the distorted space of Tenchōriki, now overlapped by the meteorite, Madara's eyes glinted in the darkness.
"Limbo: Border Jail."
A shadow—unseen by any normal eye—emerged beside him and silently walked toward the edge of the sealed space, while Madara himself held his breath.
Although neither his body nor the clone could shift through dimensions like Obito's Kamui, the shadow did behave like a Nara Clan technique—able to stretch its chakra outside the confined space.
To Madara's surprise, the shadow passed through the spatial boundary.
But before he could celebrate, pain exploded through his body. Wherever the shadow had been damaged, the same injury manifested on him.
"So this space reacts to the Limbo shadow as if it were me..."
Madara clenched his fists.
"No—it's reacting to the chakra of my eye techniques. It's the ocular power maintaining the space."
Ordinary chakra and attacks couldn't harm the Limbo clone, but natural energy could. And Orochimaru was practically born a sage. His chakra, his eyes, even his body radiated natural energy.
Still, this meant something important—Madara could use his own resilience to test and wear down the spatial boundary.
He regenerated the clone's injuries and enhanced it even further. The resulting damage tore his body apart—but it instantly began to heal, even from fatal-looking wounds.
The bacterial body he now had was not only durable but regenerating. As long as he endured the pain, he could sacrifice his own form to drain Orochimaru's ocular power maintaining the space.
A crude strategy—but one that could work.
Orochimaru noticed what was happening but didn't bother reacting. Crude meant slow—and in this battle, time was on his side.
---
Above the desert, the hunt continued.
The little white snake was cornered, but far from broken. Under pressure from both Orochimaru and the White Snake Sage, it fought back—growing stronger with each exchange.
Its survival instincts were refined through pain and combat. Though its body shrank with every wound, the injuries it managed to land on the White Snake Sage became increasingly vicious.
It could have escaped—by splitting its body or sacrificing parts of itself. But it didn't. Some part of it knew: this battle wouldn't be the last. Just like in Roran. Just like now. There would be more.
Born of Orochimaru's soul, this little snake had inherited something stubborn. It refused to be prey, even if it meant dying. If it was going to fall—it would do so biting back.
---
As the night passed and dawn broke, the first sunlight pierced the clouds.
The little white snake instantly writhed in pain.
Orochimaru and the White Snake Sage seized the opportunity and launched their final barrage, hoping to rip off as much of the snake as they could before it entered hibernation.
But rather than collapsing, the snake resisted—absorbing its own shed fragments, rapidly regenerating.
It grew once more. Not as large as before, but enough to fight back. Enough to live.
Orochimaru narrowed his eyes, but didn't stop it. He and the White Snake Sage intensified their attacks instead, stripping off more material. Most of the devoured flesh was converted into marle by the Sage—but even the waste held use for the snake's next rebirth.
---
Eventually, the sunlight became too much. The little snake collapsed in the sand, its body reverting to its original flat form.
The attacks stopped. The White Snake Sage exhaled.
"That's enough, Orochimaru. The energy I absorbed will take time to digest."
In truth, she hadn't been able to absorb anything substantial since around 3 a.m.—but she'd kept attacking anyway. This wasn't just about now. It was about the next time.
"Understood," Orochimaru nodded.
"But before you return to Ryūchi Cave… I need one last favor."
She nodded and slithered toward the meteorite's impact site.
---
Orochimaru's golden eyes gleamed. He violently dispelled the space technique.
The moment he did, a rumble emerged from within the meteorite. Its surface cracked—but it didn't explode.
"Strange," Orochimaru muttered—and sent a thought to the Sage.
She nodded, raised her scaled arm, and slammed her golden hammer into the stone. It shattered—but before her second swing could land, a monstrous roar erupted.
Boom!
The second strike was blocked. Dust filled the air. A monstrous figure rose from the crater, dry and humanoid, towering nearly as large as the snake herself.
"The Demonic Statue of the Outer Path..." Orochimaru murmured. He wasn't surprised—but he was impressed.
Madara had withheld summoning the golem until now. But it was no longer avoidable.
Upon the statue's head, Madara stood—his body cracked and torn like broken glass, but regenerating. His face was pale with exhaustion.
The clash of incompatible spaces had shredded both the meteorite and his own body. He had no choice left. He summoned the Gedo Mazo as his final gamble.
But the self-healing drained his own chakra—a resource that was dwindling fast.
If this dragged on, he would lose. So Madara made his move.
"Shinra Tensei!"
A surge of repulsion blasted outward, knocking the White Snake Sage back—but Orochimaru remained unaffected, gliding forward.
Inspired by Obito's Kamui, Orochimaru had mastered a similar use of spatial techniques—and he knew Madara couldn't use his again immediately.
He seized the window.
---
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Inches apart, the two clashed. In seconds, they exchanged hundreds of blows.
Madara was a legendary taijutsu master, amplified by the Rinnegan. But Orochimaru, now in his reborn form, was even faster and more precise.
Madara was overwhelmed.
"Contract Seal!" Orochimaru shouted, pressing his hand to Madara's chest.
Sealing marks raced across Madara's body. If it worked, the link to the Gedo Mazo would be severed. But—to their shock—nothing happened.
The statue kept fighting.
---
Madara took advantage of the confusion. In the next instant, his figure vanished—replaced by a Limbo clone.
Orochimaru's eyes narrowed.
"Limbo?" he thought, as he clashed with the shadow.
---
Beside the Gedo Mazo, Madara exhaled, bitter and strained.
If he had been in his prime, none of this would've happened. He wouldn't be so humiliated. So powerless.
But this was the reality.
The Gedo Mazo could hold off the White Snake Sage—for a while. But even after absorbing multiple Tailed Beasts, it was still just a tank. Not a solution.
And Madara... was no match for Orochimaru.
"So this is how I die..." he muttered to himself.
He was cornered.
But even then, Uchiha Madara stood tall—unshaken.
After decades of war, treachery, and struggle—if this was the end, so be it.
Let history decide what kind of man he truly was.
_____________________
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