Pain's Deva Path appeared, his presence towering with authority.
Nagato had originally intended to wear Jiraiya down through prolonged combat using the other Paths of Pain. But now…
Since Jiraiya had uncovered one of his secrets, there was no longer any reason to hide his strongest trump card.
"You… you're Yahiko?!" Jiraiya's expression twisted in disbelief. "Why do you also have the Rinnegan? Did you… steal Nagato's eyes? What the hell happened between you?"
At that moment, confusion overtook Jiraiya's heart.
Once, the three of them had been close as siblings.
Had it really all turned to betrayal?
Were shinobi bonds truly that fragile?
"Sensei Jiraiya," said the Deva Path with cold finality, "what difference does it make if you know the truth? You're a dying man anyway."
The remaining five Pains appeared behind him in silence—whole and unscathed.
Even the three Paths Jiraiya had defeated just moments ago—the Animal Path, Asura Path, and Preta Path—stood resurrected, as if untouched.
"We are neither Nagato nor Yahiko. We are Pain. The Six Paths are all me. And I… am the god of this world."
From above, Pain looked down on Jiraiya like a divine figure passing judgment.
So what if he was one of the Legendary Sannin?
So what if he had entered Sage Mode?
It meant nothing in the face of a god.
"I guess I'll have to beat it out of you," Jiraiya muttered, his eyes narrowing with determination. "Then we'll drag you back, and let Yoruha read your memories directly."
"Jiraiya," called Shima, one of the elder toads from Mount Myōboku, perched on his shoulder, "maybe now's the time to contact that Yoruha kid. He's one of the few who's fought against the Rinnegan and lived to tell the tale."
Shima and Fukasaku had long since grasped the power behind the Rinnegan, even if they didn't fully understand it. They knew better than to underestimate the eye of legend.
"No," Jiraiya said firmly. "If these six are all Pain, then I'll hold them here. That'll give Yoruha time to locate the original body."
Thanks to the intel Yoruha had shared earlier, Jiraiya had avoided being caught off guard this time—and had suffered no injuries yet.
In this state, he believed he could hold his own.
And so began the real battle: Sage Jiraiya versus the Six Paths of Pain.
Each of Jiraiya's attacks in Sage Mode carried immense power—massive rasengans, senjutsu-enhanced summons, elemental mastery.
But Pain was not ordinary.
Six bodies, each with a unique ability. Gravity control. Soul extraction. Summoning. Absorption. Mechanical weapons. Resurrection.
Even Jiraiya, with all his strength, soon found himself outnumbered and outmaneuvered.
And he hadn't even seen the full force of the Deva Path's Almighty Push yet.
"Jiraiya, they're tougher than we thought," Shima panted, voice strained. "At this rate, we'll run out of chakra before they do. I'll contact Yoruha!"
Jiraiya gave a tense nod. "Do it."
Just then, Konan broke free from the toad oil trap.
Her Akatsuki cloak, soaked and heavy, clung to her body as her form solidified again from scattered paper.
"Jiraiya," she said icily, rising into the air on wings of paper, "give up. Pain is God. Before God, mortals must kneel in reverence."
Without waiting, she lunged again, paper blades whirling.
Though she had been briefly restrained before, it was clear: Konan was no pushover.
With Jiraiya fully engaged in battle against the Six Paths, he no longer had time to coat her in oil or restrain her again.
Now, she could fight at full strength.
Jiraiya was being pushed to his limit.
And then—
A black flash tore through the air.
BOOM.
The pressure from the battlefield suddenly shattered.
Yoruha appeared in front of Jiraiya, blade in hand, cutting down the wave of attacks.
His arrival was like a thunderclap.
"So this is your justice?" Yoruha said coldly. "Seven of you ganging up on one old man… and you still dare to call yourselves 'Akatsuki'?"
His eyes were full of contempt.
The Akatsuki was meant to represent hope—the dawn of a better world. Yahiko had dreamed of using it to bring light to the darkness of the shinobi system.
And yet here they were.
Reduced to thugs in black cloaks, clinging to warped ideologies.
"Yoruha of the Mountains," Konan hissed. "Perfect timing."
"You've killed four elite Akatsuki members already!" she shouted from the sky, wings of paper stretched wide. "Pain and I will make you pay for them!"
It wasn't just Deidara or Kakuzu that mattered.
Kok, one of her closest allies, was gone.
Konan had a dream: to gather a trillion explosive tags to use against the man pretending to be Uchiha Madara.
She was at 600 billion.
She had been so close.
Now, her plan was in jeopardy.
"Oh?" Yoruha smirked. "You want revenge for them?"
His gaze flicked up toward her. "Honestly, I'm not a fan of women being above me. Why don't you come down here?"
Flick—
He vanished in a blink.
SLASH!
A black blade tore through Konan's wings.
Yoruha caught her by the chin, flipped her over, and slammed her to the ground.
Then he stepped on her back, pressing her down with his boot, while his blade hovered at her neck.
He looked up at Pain.
"Since you're too scared to show your real body, how about we make a deal?" Yoruha sneered. "Kill your other five Paths, and I'll let her go. Sounds fair, doesn't it?"
Even with Pain's face frozen in stoicism, a flicker of rage bled through.
Years ago…
Hanzo had done the same.
That humiliation, that helplessness, would never be forgotten.
It was the day everything changed.
It was the day their path was rewritten.
"Reverse Summoning!"
Nagato, hidden far away, activated the technique through the Animal Path, forming a hand seal.
Konan, trapped beneath Yoruha's boot, was pulled away in a flash of summoning light—returned safely to the Deva Path's side.
Now, six pairs of Rinnegan stared coldly at Yoruha.
Their unified gaze carried the chill of death itself.
"Yoruha… Jiraiya… you can both die now," said the Deva Path.
"Shinra Tensei!"
The Almighty Push unleashed a wave of violent repulsion.
It wasn't the catastrophic version Pain had once used to obliterate an entire village—but the power behind it was still overwhelming.
Even Orochimaru had once been smashed away by that same technique.
BOOM!
Yoruha narrowed his eyes and raised his blade in front of him.
At the same time, a surge of raw chakra erupted from his core, flooding through his body and into the weapon like boiling water.
The blade pulsed.
Then—slash!
A black crescent moon surged forward, cutting directly through the incoming repulsive force.
BOOOOM!
A massive shockwave exploded outward.
The buildings nearby crumbled and collapsed, unable to withstand the pressure.
But amid the dust and destruction…
Yoruha and Jiraiya stood tall. Unharmed.
Yoruha held his sword with one hand, a slight grin playing on his lips.
"What's wrong?" he taunted. "Was that all you had? Did my insults not sting enough?"