Orochimaru's evasiveness left Jigen deeply dissatisfied. He now realized just how difficult it was to gain the upper hand over someone like him.
It was clear: without sufficient personal strength, relying on the name of the Ōtsutsuki alone earned him no real respect from Orochimaru.
"What a damn nuisance…" he muttered.
Watching Orochimaru calmly absorb the natural energy from the remains of the beast, Jigen clenched his fists, resentment burning in his eyes.
This move had been premature. If only he had waited—if the black-haired boy's body had been fully taken over, and the 'Karma' seal more completely unlocked, then his power would have matured in line with his genius ninja potential.
Just like Orochimaru now.
Jigen was still immersed in regret when a sudden, strange energy fluctuation drew his attention to the shore.
A fragment of the serpent monster's body, about three to five meters long, was glowing faintly. Strange flowing lines were forming across its flat surface—complex and beautiful, though clearly incomplete.
"…What's this?"
Jigen's brow furrowed. But as he looked around, he noticed it wasn't an isolated occurrence.
All across the shoreline, beneath the waves, among hills and forests—dozens, even hundreds of scattered serpent fragments were undergoing the same transformation.
Orochimaru noticed it too.
He and the White Snake Sage stopped absorbing natural energy and turned to observe the countless fragments beneath them. A flicker of realization crossed Orochimaru's face.
Then it happened.
As the glowing lines completed, a technique was activated.
The fragment Jigen had been watching cracked open, glowing with a pale, milky light. The fissures widened, the brightness intensified—until the entire rock collapsed into dust, revealing what had formed inside:
A humanoid figure glowing faintly.
No… not exactly human. Not quite a ghost either. A spirit? A monster? An elf?
Orochimaru didn't care to define it.
Because he knew—these weren't just birthed from the little white snake's natural energy. They had another origin.
"…Reanimation from the Pure Land… using nature energy as the medium…"
Orochimaru stared at the bewildered figures emerging from the glowing fragments, and exhaled slowly. "Little white snake… you never cease to amaze me."
The White Snake Sage reached out mentally: "Orochimaru… these beings…"
She already had a good idea. Back at Ryūchi Cave, she'd used natural energy to raise shikigami before—but never on this scale, never with such extravagance.
She recognized some of the figures. Old enemies devoured long ago. Others had once made contracts with Ryūchi Cave. She even spotted the Third Kazekage.
This many... from the Pure Land? Surely Orochimaru had planned something. If so—wasn't this… a bit too bold?
Wouldn't even the Sage of Six Paths be shocked?
"I didn't plan for this either," Orochimaru muttered.
But his words were cut short.
Suddenly, his expression changed. He vanished in a flash, wind and waves scattering as he sped across the air—too late.
A dozen newly reborn spirit bodies had already been crushed.
By Jigen.
Orochimaru appeared before him, face dark.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Jigen glanced lazily at him, then sneered, "What do you think? Just like you—feeding."
He crushed two more spirit bodies in his hands, draining them dry.
Jigen couldn't absorb raw natural energy—but once it was filtered into chakra via the spirits, it became edible. As these revenants grew and regained chakra, they became the perfect delicacy for an Ōtsutsuki.
Orochimaru's tone sharpened. "That's different. Natural energy is one thing. But these are conscious souls. You shouldn't touch them."
"To me, there's no difference."
Jigen's voice chilled. "And Orochimaru—I've tolerated you long enough."
"…Is that so?"
Orochimaru smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He suddenly lunged, both hands snapping forward like vipers—fingers aimed straight for Cixian's eyes.
He couldn't wait for the battle between the white snake and the Ten Tails to end. It was time to settle this threat first. Risky, yes—but worth it.
Boom—!
Orochimaru's strike landed… but it only dispelled smoke.
Jigen reappeared several meters away, two more spirit bodies in hand—drained and discarded.
Veins bulged beneath pale skin as dark karma lines spread. A single horn jutted from his forehead. His left eye had turned into a Byakugan, while his right gleamed gold with a swirling pattern.
"I am Ōtsutsuki Isshiki," he growled. "You think a native like you can restrain me?"
Unlike earlier, this was no bluff. This time, Isshiki had fully unleashed the power of his Karma seal.
He was still weaker than his prime—but not by much. Even Orochimaru could feel the pressure.
"…Interesting."
Shadows stretched from Orochimaru's eyes. His body pulsed with power as he entered full Sage Mode. The surrounding spirit bodies were blasted back from the force.
He turned and called out, "First Hokage—watch over them!"
Many of the spirit bodies included familiar figures: Hatake Sakumo, Kato Dan, even Uchiha Izumi. The little white snake had done the unthinkable—pierced into the Pure Land and dragged the dead back.
Senju Hashirama stepped forward. "Leave it to me."
With a sweep of his will, he began gathering the spirits together.
Even now, his authority in the ninja world remained strong. The resurrected Jonin, many once mid- and high-level leaders in their villages, gravitated toward the "God of Shinobi" with instinctive trust.
Within moments, thousands had rallied behind him.
But not all.
Roughly half the spirits scattered in fear, doubt, or grudges from their past lives. They soared skyward, unwilling to fight again.
Still, it was enough.
Isshiki didn't even glance at them. As far as he was concerned, once Orochimaru fell, none would escape.
The air stilled. The salty sea breeze halted. The sky itself seemed split by the two overwhelming presences.
Even the White Snake Sage retreated slightly, instinctively grouping with the spirits.
Then—they collided.
Fist met fist, foot met foot. Each impact shook the air with thunderous cracks.
The shockwaves ruptured clouds and rang like war drums in every spirit's ears.
Senju Hashirama watched the battle solemnly.
He and Madara had once stood at the top of the ninja world. But even their greatest clashes couldn't compare to this raw, physical ferocity.
There was no buildup. No ninjutsu. Just pure, terrifying power.
In the crowd, the Third Raikage's fists clenched tightly. His taijutsu was legendary. And yet—even he couldn't follow the speed of their blows.
The frustration hit hard.
But when he overheard the Second Hokage muttering to Uchiha Kagami that not even his Sharingan could keep up, he felt a little better.
Tobirama looked up at the battle, frowning. "Brother, we should fall back. Orochimaru can't suppress him."
"In that case, we stay."
Hashirama didn't budge. "We've already died once. Whether we 'live' now isn't what matters. If we don't stop this enemy, the entire ninja world could be destroyed."
Last time, he'd confirmed Orochimaru was now the strongest shinobi alive—and a reliable leader. But this foe…
This thing had to be stopped, no matter the cost.
And if he had to be the sacrifice, so be it.
The spirits around him heard his words. Many admired his conviction—but others drifted away quietly. They hadn't come back to die again.
Hashirama let them go without blame.
He smiled at those who remained. "I didn't expect so many friends to stay. I'm honored."
The original Kage of the other villages folded their arms.
"Don't flatter yourself," said the First Raikage. "We're not here to help you."
"Yeah," added the First Kazekage. "Konoha doesn't own the ninja world."
They grumbled and complained in turn, criticizing Hashirama's words as if by habit.
Even Tobirama simply watched in silence.
This had always been the dynamic. When the Five Kage met, Hashirama would be criticized. It was part of maintaining balance—part of making sure Konoha didn't dominate the conversation.
Hashirama accepted that.
As long as things got done, he didn't mind a little scolding.
"…Anyway," he said, waiting for the bickering to stop. "If we work together, we can change the outcome of this battle."
"But how?"
That was the problem. Even with thousands of Jonin, they couldn't touch that battle.
"Tobirama," Hashirama said. "You explain."
Tobirama stepped forward calmly. "Some of you may have already noticed… our spirits all share the same essence. We are like limbs of a single body."
"It doesn't matter why for now. The point is, if we can be divided, we can also be unified."
"It's difficult, yes—but if we concentrate our power into a single strike, we might be able to make a difference."
"I have an idea—"
…
Far above the battlefield, the clash between Orochimaru and Isshiki raged on. Nearly 5,000 spirits had fled, and on the back of the White Snake Sage, a group of ghosts debated how to slay a god.
At that moment, a vortex spiraled open in the air, far from the battle.
Obito—masked once more—stood silently atop a tree, his gaze fixed on one particular figure.
He said nothing.
But the gears had begun to turn.
_____________________
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