Trunks was lying outside the central tower, comfortably stretched out on the grass with his hands clasped behind his head. There were no trees in that spot to block the sky, so he decided to watch the clouds, just as Shikamaru had once suggested. He had to admit, the activity—simple and utterly useless—was surprisingly relaxing, and it even made him feel drowsy.
He felt the urge to go into the immense structure, a symbol of mankind's intrusion into the wildest, most inhospitable places, but the plan was to wait until the first group arrived and steal their scroll.
He couldn't risk letting his targets reach the tower, because once they stepped inside, he wouldn't be able to take the coveted roll. Besides, if he showed up alone without his team or the scroll, they could end up disqualified. He didn't care much for those rules, but that was the decree by none other than that psychopath, Anko, the one who screamed and mocked at poor Goten.
Yeah, the boy really didn't like that crazy woman's attitude. In fact, in Goten's imagination, she was married to Vegeta, and together they went around terrorizing the people of Earth—whether at the supermarket line, in traffic, at the movies, anywhere. She would also make a habit of punishing Trunks every other day, pulling cruel pranks on him, and even on her own husband.
After all, when you think about it, snakes look a little like worms, don't they? Surely the proud prince would faint if he found one unexpectedly slipped between his sheets as a "game." Really, the boy had no idea just how many awful scenarios his friend had imagined if Anko Mitarashi were actually his mother.
The only thing that distracted him from his cloud-gazing was the sudden bursts of energy rising and falling—evidence of small skirmishes breaking out here and there within the gloomy forest. He even noticed Goten's ki spike a bit too strongly for his liking on two occasions.
The only explanation he could think of was that his friend had run into some enormous beast beyond compare, because if it had been a genin, he would have surely killed them. Still, he couldn't help but sit up abruptly when he sensed Goten facing a terrible, sinister presence—perhaps even darker than Gaara's.
"I see you're having fun, Goten. Good for you. Since we got here, all you've managed to do is get smacked around by that ridiculous Sakura."
As the kunoichi leapt from branch to branch with the unconscious Sasuke slung over her shoulder, she suddenly had to stop—she couldn't hold back the urge to sneeze. Someone must have been talking bad about her, and she'd bet anything that pig-Ino had something to do with it.
On that branch, she set Sasuke down, resting him against the moss-covered trunk so she could catch her breath before continuing the search for Naruto. The Uchiha was shivering uncontrollably, burning up with fever. The situation was far from good, but she couldn't complain too much—there was someone on the team in an even worse state. Despite how bad Sasuke looked, she was certain he wouldn't die.
Her real concern was elsewhere. Ever since they split up, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about Goten. After all, she had left one of her friends behind, and as Kakashi always said: "Those who abandon their comrades are worse than scum." But she hadn't had another choice. He'd ordered her to go, just as Kakashi himself once did when facing Zabuza, right?
That reasoning didn't ease her conscience; it only made her feel worse. No matter how she looked at it, she had no excuse.
In truth, she felt miserable, useless, pathetic—because that boy she had scorned so often was literally sacrificing himself for the lives of others… for her life.
"Goten… please, come back safe…" she whispered to herself in a voice so faint it was nearly a thought. She lifted her melancholy green eyes upward, only to find the dense, shadowy canopy blocking out any glimpse of the sky.
Faced with that bleak, suffocating sight, she could only let out a hollow smile, heavy with guilt. This was her punishment. For now, she felt she didn't even deserve the warmth of the sun.
"Besides… I still want to fly with you again…"
The snake-like woman was impressed. Somehow, the boy standing before her had managed to unleash an attack strikingly similar to her own—except without the need for hand seals or anything of the sort.
He had simply aimed his palm at her.
The violent burst of air tore at the skin on her face, peeling it from her forehead down to her left eye. Now, part of the left side of her face was exposed, revealing skin as pale as snow—fitting for someone who had long since abandoned every trace of humanity.
Perhaps Majin Buu was a demon, but he had been created that way. Orochimaru, on the other hand, had been born human, though one could certainly doubt that, and now he had become a demon—most disturbing of all, by his own choice.
"I see you have some talent." This time, the voice that came out was completely masculine—cold and soulless. A voice like that could never belong to a good person under any circumstances.
Was Goten impressed? Of course not. Sensing the man's vile chakra was more than enough for him. What disgusted him most was when the figure began peeling away the fragile, wrinkled skin of his face, as if it were no more than paper. It had all been a mask to conceal his true identity.
"However…" Orochimaru continued slowly, "Someone like you doesn't interest me. I seek the gifted youths with rare and intriguing Kekkei Genkai. Not a brawler shaped by nothing more than grueling training—"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Goten snapped, cutting him off before he could even finish. Every trace of his noble, boyish expression had vanished. Now, he fixed Orochimaru with an intense, penetrating gaze—his eyes gleaming like a pair of black onyx stones.
He wasn't overwhelmed, only revolted by the sinister presence of someone who must have slaughtered countless innocents. There was no way his hands were free of blood, no matter how one might wish otherwise. This man was a threat to everyone—and Goten knew he had to do something, even if he wasn't sure what.
"In any case, I'll have to kill you. And don't think for a moment that you've ruined my plans by allowing that pathetic girl to escape." Orochimaru went on with his grim speech, harping on nothing but death and suffering.
He began walking slowly toward Goten, wearing the grin of a madman.
"A weakling like her would have been a waste of my time. Although now that I think about it, insignificant beings make excellent subjects for experiments. After all, their deaths hardly mean anything…"
"You bastard! Open your mouth again, and I'll shut it for good!"
Orochimaru's grin widened with delight as he watched the boy in the orange dogi clench his fists and step forward, clearly falling prey to his provocations. Anyone showing such raw sentiment in a situation like this would easily be caught by his next move. His mental discipline had to be weak.
"Temporary Paralysis Jutsu! (Kanashibari no Jutsu)," cried the traitorous Sannin, not even bothering with a hand seal. His mastery of the technique was so advanced that a mere look into his eyes should have trapped Goten in the paralyzing genjutsu.
But something was wrong. Goten stood there, staring back with the same intense glare, showing no signs of dizziness or confusion. For some inexplicable reason, he was immune to the technique.
Once again, the Saiyan raised his right palm. Before the stunned, motionless Sannin, another identical blast erupted—born from the immensity of Goten's ki, raging to be released and tear everything apart in its path.
Once again, Orochimaru's thin frame was hurled backward with tremendous force, crashing violently against the already-damaged trunk behind him. This time, the impact blasted a massive hole through the tree, sending the helpless ninja flying through it until he landed like a rag doll on the branch of a nearby giant. He tore straight through its massive trunk.
"What the hell is happening? Why didn't the genjutsu work?" thought the dazed shinobi, his vision blurry as he watched Goten calmly walk through the enormous hole, leaping nimbly until he landed just meters away on the same branch. "How does he create that burst of air without any seals? Such incredible strength! But it's impossible!"
His vast knowledge of countless ninjutsu and genjutsu made him disdain taijutsu, though he didn't ignore it. The only time he'd ever heard of raw, brute force creating such explosive pressure and distortion in the air was under the overwhelming, lethal effects of the Gate of Death—through a technique known as the Evening Elephant.
The boy's attack was on a smaller scale, yet Orochimaru could sense he wasn't even trying. He was calm, collected—as if the effort required was minimal. A dangerous child. But it was his next words that nearly drove Orochimaru mad.
"That strange technique of yours won't help you. I've been through this before. Maybe my ki has something to do with it."
"Ki? What nonsense are you babbling, boy? Ki is nothing but an ancient legend! Such a thing doesn't exist!" roared the snake-like ninja, clenching his fists as, for the first time in ages, the delicate features of his inhuman face twisted in rage.
Goten raised his hand once more, prompting Orochimaru to brace himself, ready to evade. It wouldn't work again.
But his terror was only beginning. Now, he would feel on his pale skin the same fear his victims felt when utterly outmatched.
The strange young boy with spiky black hair aimed his palm to the side. A golden sphere of energy began forming in his hand, glowing fiercely in the dim forest.
KABOOOOOM!
The trunk of a colossal tree—the largest in the area—exploded into thousands of fragments, shattered clean in half. The deafening crash echoed through the forest, scattering every bird and beast. The massive tree toppled, leaving only its lower half standing. Without exaggeration, every genin taking the test in the Forest of Death heard the chaos of that destruction, whether faint or thunderous.
The one farthest from the clash between Goten and the snake was probably Trunks. That's why he barely caught the sound of the enormous tree crashing down in the distance.
What he did notice, though, was the towering column of dust rising above the treetops—along with Goten's ki flaring strong enough to make him grin.
"Damn, Goten! You're out there explaining what ki is again, aren't you?"
"And that's ki!" Goten barked back, scratching his chin in a boyish gesture and looking skyward, remembering how he'd explained it the same way to Videl and Kakashi's team the day they met. With this Sannin, he was losing count of how many times he'd had to blow something up just to get his point across. Words weren't his strength—actions were.
Orochimaru understood. If this boy really wielded ki, then he had no chakra, no network, no channels to circulate it. Which meant genjutsu—the art of manipulating or blocking chakra through the nervous system—wouldn't work on him at all. That left only ninjutsu and taijutsu, and taijutsu wasn't Orochimaru's forte.
"Why can this child use ki?" he thought, shaken in a way he hadn't expected.
Orochimaru wasn't supposed to fear anything. But as someone who had mastered countless jutsu, dissected the body, and studied shinobi arts more deeply than anyone alive, this was beyond comprehension. The boy standing in front of his golden, slit-pupiled eyes was nothing short of an impossible phenomenon.
Maybe a genin wouldn't grasp how insane this was. But Orochimaru knew too well—possessing ki simply shouldn't be possible. It was absurd, unnatural. Unless, of course, the boy was some kind of alien… which wasn't too far off. The truth was simpler: Goten came from another dimension, one without chakra at all.
"I need to know more about this boy. I need to know more about this ki."
The Sannin vanished. His speed shredded the air, well beyond human perception. Dust and bark exploded as his chakra-enhanced stride cracked the ancient branch beneath his feet. He blurred around Goten, who stood frozen, seemingly helpless against the monstrous speed.
"This is the end," Orochimaru hissed, baring his teeth in a macabre grin. He stretched his fingers toward the base of the boy's neck, intending to knock him unconscious—or kill him outright. Either way, the body would serve his purpose.
But just as his strike came within a breath of landing, Orochimaru's blood ran cold. The Saiyan, still with his back turned and arms folded, tilted his head aside at the last possible instant, sensing the foul aura without even looking.
"No way… He knew all along!"
Orochimaru's clawed hand passed harmlessly by, and when he looked up, Goten's dark eyes glared back over his shoulder, intense enough to say what words didn't: Now it's my turn.
In a blur too fast to track, Goten seized his face with one open hand, squeezing hard enough to make Orochimaru's cheekbones scream, then slammed the back of his skull into the massive branch beneath them.
The wood shattered like glass. Both plunged downward, Goten on top, still crushing the Sannin's jaw. Orochimaru thought his skull might split apart entirely from the monstrous blow. If he didn't break free, the boy would drive him into the ground next—and from this height, that would be fatal.
Mid-fall, Goten abruptly let go. He wasn't finished yet.
Orochimaru twisted through the air, regaining his footing in a predator's crouch. He clutched his aching head with both hands, hunched over in agony.
The boy was a monster.
When he finally looked up, Goten was descending slowly, casually, floating against all logic, his calmness almost mocking. The brat could fly.
Shock melted into delight. Orochimaru's lips curved into something unholy, nearly ecstatic. If he placed the Cursed Seal on this child—if he claimed that body—what power would be his? Immunity to genjutsu. Ki in his grasp. A vessel beyond imagination.
"Show me more! I want to see more!" he shrieked, laughter curdling into deranged howls that echoed through the forest. Even Goten, stronger by far, felt a shiver. This man wasn't just an opponent—he was a monster.
"Quit laughing like that!" Goten snapped, surging forward at a speed that dwarfed even Orochimaru's. His horizontal kick smashed into the snake-nin's waist—and split him clean in two, like Trunks once had done against the Cell Juniors.
The halves dropped lifeless at his feet.
"S-sorry, sir! You scared me! I didn't mean to kill you!" Goten stammered, knees bent, fists clenched, eyes wide with panic. "Crap, Trunks has the senzu beans—but if he's dead, they won't help anyway!"
His horror deepened as writhing green snakes erupted from both halves of Orochimaru's body, knitting themselves together in a revolting weave until the pale man stood whole again, smiling as though nothing had happened.
"Wow, uh… good thing you can regenerate!" Goten admitted, still shaken but trying to play it cool. "Why don't you just call it quits? You can't beat me."
He was right. Even using only a fraction of his speed, Goten was already hundreds of times faster and stronger. Orochimaru couldn't hope to dodge his blows, only endure them. But like all villains, the Sannin only laughed.
"I'll leave when I have what I want. And what I want… is inside you."
"…Sir, don't say it like that," Goten muttered, grimacing. "That sounds… weird. My mom told me not to talk to strangers—and definitely not to go anywhere with them!"
"Then your mother is wise," Orochimaru hissed, licking his lips with that grotesque tongue, sending another chill down the boy's spine.
Now Goten's skin crawled, his tail bristling. If Trunks had been here, he would've blasted half the forest away already.
Orochimaru's original target was Sasuke and the Sharingan. But now… he was reconsidering. Perhaps this boy, with his strange energy and even stranger body, was the true prize. Especially now that he noticed the monkey-like tail swishing behind him.
A hybrid? he thought, his grin stretching wider and more twisted. The notion of another experimenter blending humans and beasts was almost… pleasurable.
Maybe that explained his strength—half human, half monkey, his body pushed to superhuman limits by training, the tail the only remnant of his animal half. Still, too many questions remained. He'd need Kabuto's help to unravel the truth.
But his musings ended when Goten shifted into an unfamiliar stance, inviting the Sannin to strike first. Orochimaru blinked. The posture looked simple, almost childish—but he recognized it instantly.
"Aikido?" His golden eyes gleamed. "Who would teach a monster like this a martial art meant to redirect force? For him, snapping bones should be no harder than breaking twigs."
Still, curiosity drove him forward. Orochimaru jammed his fingers into his throat, forcing his body into spasms. His chest and neck bulged grotesquely as if he would vomit out his own organs.
What came instead made Goten gag. The Sannin tilted his head back, jaw unhinging with sickening cracks like a true serpent, and from his mouth slithered a thick green snake. From the snake's throat emerged… a sword.
The legendary Kusanagi gleamed, whistling death as it cut the air. Orochimaru caressed its hilt with cold fingers, eyes alight with twisted lust for the blood it would drink.
Goten's expression stayed blank. He didn't even know what the sword was. Weapon or no weapon, he had only his fists—and no kunai pouch in sight. Orochimaru sneered. Either the boy was fearless… or a fool.
A fatal mistake.
With a graceful flick of his wrist, Orochimaru lunged. He almost relished the imagined sound of the Saiyan's ribs cracking—until agony shot up his arm.
Instead of piercing Goten's chest, the blade clattered to the ground. The boy had redirected it at the last instant with an open palm, then struck Orochimaru's arm just above the elbow.
The result? A clean break. Bones tearing through flesh.
The Sannin stared in disbelief. He had thought he'd heard Goten's chest collapse—but it was his own forearm, shattered and spraying blood.
And then he saw nothing but black eyes.
Because the next instant, Goten's fist was buried in his gut.
KABOOM.
Ten massive trees exploded in unison as Orochimaru's body tore through them, the forest echoing with a single thunderous crash.
The column of dust and dirt, towering well above the treetops, caught Kakashi's attention from the edge of the forest. The tremor beneath his feet made it impossible to ignore. If he'd known just how many kilometers away the blast had happened, he would've been even more impressed.
A couple of seconds later, a faint shockwave finally reached him, ruffling a few pages of his porn novel as casually as a summer breeze.
"I'll bet Orochimaru's behind this!" cried a startled Anko from behind the ever-unfazed jounin.
Just an hour ago, a pair of chunin had led her to the corpses of three unlucky candidates from the Hidden Grass. Everybody tells its own story, hands out its own kind of justice—so long as someone knows how to read it. And Anko knew exactly who was pulling the strings.
"Yeah… looks that way," Kakashi muttered, his voice dripping with annoyance as his single visible eye dropped back to the little orange book in his hand. "But I'll bet you something too—I'll bet Orochimaru ran into someone I know."
"How can you say it like that?" Anko shot back, frustrated, grabbing him by the shoulder and forcing him to turn and face her. "Don't you get how serious this is? I can't let more students die under my watch—not if that damned monster's the one killing them!"
She could've strangled Kakashi right then and there. But the jonin just shrugged, stayed silent, and sank back into his useless excuse for reading.
"Relax," he finally said. "I'll personally replant every tree that gets knocked down."
What the jonin—utterly clueless about gardening—didn't realize was that those massive trees, now toppled like corpses on a battlefield, were centuries old. Some had taken hundreds of years to reach their towering size.
After plowing through them, Orochimaru's battered body carved on for another hundred meters at least, gouging a deep trench through shrubs and soil, creating a whole new path in his wake.
Goten just followed the obvious trail. At the end, he found the sannin's body mangled and half-buried in the trench, so deep it was hard to see the bottom.
The pale man had literally lost half his body along the way. Goten could swear he'd seen one of Orochimaru's legs lying off to the side as he walked past. One arm was still broken with bones jutting out, the other intact but twisted grotesquely. His head… well, his head was facing the wrong way thanks to a broken neck.
"…Maybe I went a little overboard, hehe." Goten scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish grin—the classic Son family gesture. But despite the damage, he could still feel Orochimaru's disgusting chakra. The guy was alive, and at any moment, he'd start regenerating.
And sure enough, Orochimaru's jaw cracked unnaturally wide. From that grotesque maw, a brand-new version of himself slithered out, coated in a slick, green slime. It reminded Goten of Piccolo when he regenerated a limb. Shedding skin like a snake, Orochimaru stood whole again.
"Hey, mister, you dropped this!" Goten called down, tossing the Kusanagi. It stabbed into the ground right at Orochimaru's feet.
To his surprise, the sannin smiled. He was thrilled by the child's overwhelming power. He hadn't expected such a prize in this exam. Pulling the sword free, he leapt out of the trench to face the boy again.
"I told you—you should leave. You can't win," Goten said calmly, hands laced behind his head, idly kicking pebbles as though none of this mattered.
"The more you ask, the more I want to continue…" Orochimaru replied, and Goten could've sworn the sannin's amber eyes flashed with a hungry gleam.
Something about it unsettled him—a feeling he couldn't quite name. Trunks would've picked up on it instantly, and knowing his temper, he wouldn't have tolerated it.
In a blur, Orochimaru lunged, sword flashing in elegant thrusts and sweeping cuts. His wrists moved with frightening precision, the Kusanagi dancing like a deadly extension of his will.
But Goten, arms still crossed, slipped past every strike. To him, the blade might as well have been moving in slow motion.
Each time, he only dodged at the very last instant—leaning his head aside as the tip hovered millimeters from his skin, twisting his torso just enough to let the slash slide by. He wanted to see Orochimaru's face, that moment where triumph collapsed into frustration. And it amused him.
Not once did Goten step back. He simply pivoted in place, letting the sannin overextend again and again. Every opening was a chance to counter, but he didn't take it. He just stared at him blankly, arms still folded.
Finally, Orochimaru tried a wider slash to cut both legs at once—only for Goten to hop lightly onto the Kusanagi itself. The sword slammed into the dirt under his weight.
And no matter how Orochimaru strained, he couldn't lift it. The boy weighed next to nothing, maybe fifty kilos, but somehow he pressed the blade into the earth as though it were anchored by a mountain. Orochimaru's vertebrae screamed with the effort.
Looking up, he found Goten smiling and flashing him a peace sign… before headbutting him so hard his skull burst like a watermelon. The sannin's body collapsed, headless, while the Kusanagi rang against the ground.
But Orochimaru's remains melted into a thick, writhing sludge, retreating and reforming into another new body. His regeneration techniques seemed endless—but even they had limits.
This time, he tried something different. With a gesture, he made the Kusanagi float. Then, with a snap, it shot forward, aiming straight for Goten's gut.
"No way…" Orochimaru hissed, watching in disbelief as the blade failed to pierce even a fraction of the boy's stomach. No matter how hard he pushed, the sword wouldn't go through.
"Wow, sir! This sword is incredible—it's like magic!" Goten said cheerfully, grabbing the hilt to inspect it like a curious kid. Orochimaru strained to pull it back, but it was useless. Goten's smile faded, though, as he murmured, "Terrible blade… I wonder how many people it's killed."
CRAAAACK!
With one hand gripping the hilt, he brought his other down like a spear, splitting the legendary weapon clean in two. The pieces clattered to the ground like brittle glass.
Tossing the handle aside, he gathered a blazing sphere of golden ki in his palm and fired. The blast obliterated what remained of the sword, leaving a massive crater where it had stood. The explosion hurled Orochimaru through the air, smashing him against yet another colossal tree. The crash of its eighty-meter trunk toppling filled the forest.
But Orochimaru barely felt the pain. He couldn't believe it. The Kusanagi, famed for cutting through anything, hadn't scratched the boy—not even his clothes. Worse, Goten had broken it like it was nothing.
"You… damned brat!!" Orochimaru howled, spittle flying, trembling with rage—or was it fear? He couldn't tell anymore. He hadn't felt anything like this in years. His cold logic was slipping away, replaced with raw, human emotions he could barely recognize.
In desperation, he bit his thumb so hard he nearly tore it off, smearing blood across the black tattoo on his wrist. Slamming his palm to the ground, he unleashed his greatest summoning.
A vast cloud of white smoke swallowed the forest. But even that cloud was too small to conceal the monster within.
"DAMN IT, OROCHIMARU! WHAT DO YOU WANT THIS TIME?! YOU KNOW I HATE BEING SUMMONED!" boomed a voice like thunder itself.
Only Shenron could rival such a roar. Leaves dropped lifeless from the trees, and the ground shook with every subtle ripple of the enormous purple serpent.
It was a nightmare given form. Orochimaru, tall by human standards, looked like an ant perched atop its massive head. Its jade-green eye alone was nearly twice his size.
"I'LL GIVE YOU ONE HUNDRED—NO, TWO HUNDRED HUMAN SACRIFICES IF YOU KILL THAT BOY RIGHT NOW!" Orochimaru shouted, straining his tiny voice to reach the colossal beast.
Goten's eyes went wide. The serpent's sheer size stunned him, though it didn't freeze him in fear. Compared to Shenron, this thing was smaller—but still horrifying. How something like this could be summoned out of nowhere was beyond him. He'd seen Kakashi summon Pakkun, but this… this was ridiculous.
Trees collapsed around them, crushed under the snake's massive bulk. The creak of wood snapping beneath its weight made the monster hiss in irritation. It hated being called to such cramped places.
"A CHILD?! YOU SUMMONED ME TO DEAL WITH A WORTHLESS BRAT? THIS IS AN INSULT! MAKE IT THREE HUNDRED SACRIFICES!" the serpent thundered, its voice reverberating across the entire forest.
Even those who couldn't understand its words felt the terror. Sakura, nearly a kilometer away, began trembling, tears welling up. She knew whatever was happening had to do with Goten—and that horrific creature.
She set Sasuke down gently on a branch, guilt clawing at her chest. They had to be close to Naruto by now, just as Goten had said. But the earth itself shook beneath her feet more often now—the serpent's arrival turning tremors into constant quakes.
On the other side of the forest, Trunks felt the monstrous energy. Stronger than anything he'd sensed yet in the shinobi world. And instead of fear, it made him restless, almost excited. He longed to rush in, to see for himself, to fight, to throw even a single punch to satisfy the Saiyan blood boiling inside him.
"AND WHERE IS THIS BOY YOU WANT ME TO CRUSH? I DON'T SEE HIM ANYWHERE!" thundered the booming voice of the great purple serpent, its head sweeping across the ground as it searched. Only when a small voice cried out did it pause.
"It's me, Mister Snake! It's me!" shouted Goten, flailing his arms with all his might as he floated right in front of its snout—fifty meters in the air. Manda was impressed, for a moment, by the child's ability to fly. But that awe quickly soured—he was still just an insect. A morsel. Barely worth noticing.
"IS THIS THE RIDICULOUS REASON YOU SUMMONED ME? NEVER—NEVER HAVE YOU SHOWN SUCH FOOLISHNESS! I WILL NOT LET TH—"
BAAAAAAMMMMM!
Never in his life had Manda been struck so savagely. The world spun around him as Goten's tiny fist slammed square into his nose with terrifying force. The serpent toppled backward, crushing countless trees beneath his enormous bulk. At this rate, Kakashi might have to retire as a ninja and become a full-time gardener.
Orochimaru barely managed to cling to Manda's head, chakra burning at his feet and hands just to keep himself from being hurled into the sky like a rag doll. This was no ordinary fight—it was monstrous. A boy not even one-sixty tall against a serpent stretching a hundred meters. And yet… it was far closer than anyone could have imagined.
Manda struggled to rise, but before he could steady himself, Goten blurred forward, so fast that even the serpent's refined reflexes couldn't keep up. Both of the boy's fists, drawn back and glowing with power, crashed upward into Manda's jaw with a brutal uppercut.
The result was catastrophic. Trees nearby exploded as bark and splinters were ripped away by the shockwave. The snake's lower fangs slammed against its own skull—it was a wonder they didn't pierce right through. The impact tore Manda's entire body from the ground and hurled it back into another swath of forest, shattering everything beneath it. Zone 44 trembled to its roots.
Humiliation. Fighting Goten was like trying to swat a fly—a fly that hit like a giant.
The serpent writhed and crashed about, destroying everything it touched. Orochimaru was frozen. Paralyzed. What kind of being could fight Manda barehanded—and win? It was impossible. Inconceivable.
Then Manda struck back. His colossal body whipped forward, and with terrifying speed, he lunged, jaws wide, and swallowed Goten whole before the boy even realized what was happening.
But inside his mouth, something went horribly wrong. Pain seared through Manda's skull—because Goten had grabbed one of his massive fangs and ripped it free as if plucking a carrot from the dirt.
With that fang, the boy pierced straight through the roof of Manda's mouth, driving it clean through the serpent's head and, incidentally, through Orochimaru himself, who clung desperately to the outside. Two birds, one stone.
As Manda howled in agony, Goten tore free from its maw, wrenching out its slimy tongue for good measure.
"AAAAARRRRGGGH! YOU WRETCHED BRAT! HOW DARE YOU?! I'LL TEAR YOU TO PIECES!" bellowed the serpent, thrashing so violently that even the skies seemed to shudder at its roars.
Orochimaru, split in half by the attack, barely managed to stitch himself back together with his snakes, scrambling to avoid falling to his death. His prized summon, however, no longer cared if he lived or died.
Goten, meanwhile, watched in horror. Every twitch of Manda's body destroyed acres of forest. If this fight dragged on, others would be crushed like insects. He had to end it. Now.
But before he could act, the serpent's tail lashed out.
BAAAAAAMMMMM!
The blow sent Goten hurtling backwards, smashing through trees, splintering trunks, and carving destruction in his wake. The forest shook again, though by now everyone inside had grown grimly accustomed to these tremors.
Manda pursued without mercy, his speed terrifying for a beast so large. Orochimaru clung on for dear life. The serpent, tongueless, relied on his heat-sense to track Goten—and that heat burned far hotter than any human's.
Then… the ground erupted.
From beneath rubble and dust shot a blazing blue light—Goten, soaring skyward like a cobalt comet. The force of his launch blasted open a crater, ripping trees apart and shaking the world. Even Manda faltered, stunned by the overwhelming shockwave.
Above, the boy was a streak of light. Then came the glow—a golden radiance so fierce it blinded the serpent's sensitive eyes.
"Destructo Disc!" Goten's voice rang out like a death knell.
PUUUUMMM!
The Death Forest roared as Manda's colossal head separated cleanly from his body. The earth quaked as that titanic corpse crashed down lifeless.
Orochimaru leapt free just in time, knowing the nightmare wasn't over. He had awakened something he never should have crossed.
Suspended above, time seemed to stop. The serpent's massive head lingered mid-air, frozen in its final moment, staring at the small figure descending with that mocking, childlike grin.
Goten raised his hand—so small, so delicate—towards Manda's snout.
And then came the light. Golden, merciless.
The head dissolved into dust before it even touched the ground.
The last thought that flickered through Orochimaru's mind as he stared in horror:
"What the hell are you?"
No answer ever came.
Manda—the great, terrible serpent feared even by Orochimaru himself, one of the Three Legendary Sannin—was no more.
"SAKURA! HEY, OVER HERE!" shouted the hyperactive genin from the ground, waving his arms wildly and even hopping up and down to catch his teammate's attention.
"Naruto!" the girl exclaimed from a tree branch above. She had been so lost in thought that she nearly ignored the blonde entirely and passed him by.
She stopped at once and leapt down in front of him, ready to explain the situation. But before she could even open her mouth, the boy smothered her with an avalanche of questions.
"What happened to Sasuke? Is he dead? And what about Goten? Don't tell me he's dead too, because if—"
SMAAACK!
"COULD YOU SHUT UP FOR ONE MOMENT?!" Sakura snapped, already on edge, unable to bear the nerves that had been gnawing at her for some time. Naruto just stared at her, eyes wide, his hand clutching the cheek that now burned red from the slap.
"Sasuke isn't dead, you idiot! He was just hurt by that horrible woman—he's unconscious, that's all!" She explained in a rush, half-frantic, as she carefully lowered the Uchiha from her shoulder and laid him gently on the ground, with Naruto awkwardly helping her.
The boy was honestly too afraid to ask another question. He just stood there watching Sakura, completely silent, waiting for her to continue on her own. But she didn't.
Instead, she stayed kneeling at Sasuke's side, her eyes fixed on him, her hand pressed to his fevered forehead. She said nothing more. She didn't move.
"Uh… Sakura… what happened to—"
"I DON'T KNOW! DAMMIT! WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY? I DON'T KNOW!" she shouted, her voice breaking.
Her composure was usually unshakable, but she couldn't take it anymore. She felt so awful that she swore the tears would come spilling from her glassy green eyes at any second. Even Naruto—the ever-clueless, oblivious Naruto—could see the pain and sorrow overflowing in her gaze.
Yet instead of looking away, she locked eyes with him, as if daring him to see her weakness. But the truth was she was daring herself—not to cry, not to collapse, to be strong no matter what. The blonde had never imagined he'd see Sakura Haruno unravel like this.
She refused to show the slightest crack in her armor—especially when it came to Goten. She had to maintain her place, keep proving she only cared for Sasuke, the most talented, brilliant boy in Konoha. She couldn't let her worry for that scatterbrained, clumsy, tailed boy slip through.
But without realizing it, Sakura wasn't being strong. She was only being foolish. She was hurting herself by burying her feelings. Because to her, the boy with the tail might have been distracted, even a little clumsy—but never useless. Not anymore.