The shrill howl of the wind echoed through the air.
Before anyone could even see him, the overwhelming force of the gale pressed down like a physical weight. Orochimaru's eyes widened as he gritted his teeth against the wind, his hands swiftly forming hand seals.
"Summoning Jutsu! Triple Rashōmon!"
Three colossal gates materialized in rapid succession with a series of earth-shaking "BOOM!" sounds, standing tall in front of Orochimaru as an impenetrable barrier.
Then, Might Dai's kick connected with the massive gates.
"CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!"
Three simultaneous explosions rang out as the gates were obliterated in an instant—not even a second of resistance. Under the force of Might Dai's flying kick, everything was reduced to splinters.
Facing the incoming attack, Orochimaru had no time to react. His hands had barely crossed to form another seal when—
SPLAT!
Might Dai's kick turned him into a spray of blood and gore.
BOOM!!
The ground cratered under the impact, leaving a massive pit where Dai's foot had struck. Kneeling on one knee, Might Dai panted heavily, the green chakra around his body dissipating—the Eight Gates could no longer be sustained.
Orochimaru's figure emerged from the ground, his Kusanagi Sword resting against Might Dai's neck. A single flick of his wrist would sever Dai's head.
"You've lost, Dai," Orochimaru said, licking his lips. If that kick had landed squarely, he would have died for real.
Looking at the disheveled, panting Might Dai, Orochimaru couldn't help but think:
This man is terrifying.
To think that someone from their generation hadn't fallen far behind them at all.
"Sorry, Orochimaru… sir," Might Dai scratched his head awkwardly. "I can only open up to the Sixth Gate for now."
"I heard," Orochimaru replied, sheathing his sword with an amused smile. "The Eight Gates you mentioned—they're the body's natural limiters, correct?"
As a researcher, Orochimaru was no stranger to the concept of the Eight Gates. Much of his work on unlocking human potential was based on them. But he never imagined someone could brute-force them open the way Dai did.
"Yeah. To fight you, I thought I'd need the Eighth Gate and that final technique… but the Eighth Gate is only for protecting others."
After all, using it meant death.
Orochimaru stared at Dai, his mind screaming internally:
"Are you trying to fucking kill me?!"
Even Orochimaru's patience had its limits. He barely suppressed the urge to yell, forcing a smile instead. That kick alone had nearly ended him. Based on the power scaling of the Eight Gates, if Dai reached the Seventh Gate, Orochimaru would stand no chance.
And the Eighth Gate?
Were they sparring or was this a death match?!
Looking at Might Dai's earnest expression, Orochimaru felt a chill run down his spine.
This man… is terrifying in every sense of the word.
If he hadn't used a substitution jutsu to hide underground at the last second, that kick would have vaporized him. Even his teacher, Hiruzen Sarutobi, wouldn't have survived it.
"Orochimaru… sir, can I join now?" Might Dai asked nervously.
Seeing Orochimaru's suddenly darkened expression, his anxiety grew.
Was he still not strong enough?
"Just call me Orochimaru. No need for formalities," Orochimaru replied flatly. "From now on, you'll be working with me. I'll report your reassignment to the Hokage."
Village ninja couldn't be arbitrarily reassigned—only the Hokage had that authority. But given the war, no one would object.
"Thank you, Orochimaru sir—!" Dai caught himself as Orochimaru glared. "Orochimaru."
So Orochimaru wasn't as cold as the other ninja said.
Orochimaru glanced at the stunned onlookers, many of whom were still gaping in disbelief. Then he looked back at Might Dai's cheerful face and sighed inwardly.
This man has no idea how strong he really is.
Kin… you really have a talent for spotting hidden gems.
The ninja battalion sped toward the Land of Rain's battlefield, leaping from tree to tree under Orochimaru's lead. To any bystander, they were nothing more than fleeting shadows—mistaken for startled birds.
Might Dai brought up the rear, per Orochimaru's orders. Ahead of him was the jonin named Lan.
Lan slowed his pace, falling in step beside Dai.
"You shouldn't be joining this war," Lan muttered, his voice low.
Even knowing Dai's strength surpassed his own, Lan didn't want him on the battlefield.
"Lan…"
"If you go, what happens to your wife and son?" Lan cut him off. Before Dai could respond, he continued, "I've mocked you, belittled you, looked down on you… but I've also envied you."
Lan was part of Orochimaru's generation too—but as a C-class ninja, he'd clawed his way up from cannon fodder to jonin. No one knew how much he'd sacrificed.
He'd given up everything—time, relationships—just to grow stronger and rise in rank. That was the tragedy of a civilian-born ninja. He'd even abandoned the idea of marriage, resigning himself to dying for the village in some forgotten corner.
He had the resolve.
But it wasn't the life he wanted.
"You have the life I dreamed of. A peaceful existence, with a wife and son. No risks, no bloodshed."
"Why not just live safely? Carry our hopes with you?"
Many who'd survived the battlefield had projected their longing for peace onto Might Dai. Seeing his true power, some had changed their minds.
But Lan hadn't.
You already have everything I ever wanted. Why step into this crimson vortex?
"Lan," Might Dai grinned, giving him a thumbs-up. "I want to protect you too!"
Lan's lips trembled, but no words came out. He could only grit his teeth and surge ahead.
Maybe this was why everyone pinned their hopes on Might Dai.
He was simpler—purer—than most in the village.
The battalion halted as Orochimaru raised his hand. All eyes turned toward the distant forest.
There, figures emerged from the trees—forehead protectors glinting with the symbol of Sunagakure.
"Sand ninja," Orochimaru muttered, his gaze locking onto the middle-aged man at their center.
"Ebizō."
Trouble had arrived.
What the hell happened on Sakumo's end?
...
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(End of Chapter)