"Heh… Since when did Ryūchi Cave care about the process? In the end, isn't it all about results?"
Orochimaru looked up at Ichikishimahime floating in mid-air, his voice low and rasping, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"We're out. How we got out isn't important. But… if Lady Ichikishimahime feels unconvinced, she can pick one of us, master or disciple, for a fight."
Uchiha Gen mirrored his teacher's smile, his gaze steady and just as unyielding.
Ichikishimahime's chest tightened with anger.
In all her years of testing practitioners who dared to enter Ryūchi Cave, never had anyone been this brazen. Very well, she thought. If they wanted a fight, she'd grant it. A thousand years of living and learning had left her with no shortage of confidence...why should she fear two arrogant boys?
"Fine then. I choose yo..."
But her words cut off as a message surged into her mind from the White Snake Sage. Her expression stiffened, the anger forced down. With visible reluctance, she changed her tone.
"…You've passed the test. Leave quickly."
Before they could respond, her form dissolved into nothing, vanishing as if she wanted nothing more than to never see the two of them again.
The master and disciple exchanged a knowing glance and an amused smile before pressing deeper into Ryūchi Cave. Before long, they came upon Tagitsuhime's trial.
Her method was simple yet cruel, using her unique senjutsu, she struck with venomous fangs aimed at her target's neck. The bite would paralyze the body with searing heat and plunge the victim into vivid hallucinations, slowly breaking down both willpower and flesh.
This time she appeared in the guise of a beautiful young maiden, long brown hair falling around a golden crown topped with an orb, pale skin touched with black-pink eyeshadow that traced down to her nose, and three green magatama ornaments resting on her chest. She wore a white shrine maiden's robe, radiating a serene and sacred aura.
But her disguise couldn't fully hide what she truly was. Behind the illusion lingered sharp fangs and a gray-blue tongue, a form every bit as terrifying as Ichikishimahime's. Her real appearance was the kind of thing that made children scream in terror.
Yet no matter how many times she lunged, she found herself unable to pierce the necks of either Orochimaru or Uchiha Gen. The pair carried too many layered defenses, too many contingencies woven into their bodies and chakra.
After a prolonged struggle, Tagitsuhime pulled back at last, breathing hard and clearly irritated.
"No more. Enough! With your strength, you are indeed qualified to practice senjutsu. Consider my trial passed." She waved her hand dismissively, though her tone carried reluctant respect.
Unlike Mount Myōboku, which handed opportunities to anyone with the right connections, many of whom ended up petrified as stone toads, Ryūchi Cave's trials were not about generosity. They were about proof. Only those who could endure and overcome the cave's guardians would be deemed worthy to attempt Sage Mode.
"Thank you, Lady Tagitsuhime," both Orochimaru and Gen said with genuine courtesy. For all her hostility, they appreciated her blunt honesty.
Tagitsuhime gave a small nod, then lifted her arm and pointed toward a dark winding path.
"Follow this road straight. When you reach the temple, you will find the White Snake Sage."
After offering another polite bow, the master and disciple moved on. About half an hour later, they emerged before a massive temple, its ancient stone walls radiating an air of solemnity and timelessness.
They stepped through the open gates and found themselves before a colossal figure coiled upon a throne: a white-scaled snake of staggering size.
Its long body gleamed like pale ivory, a red luminous pearl resting atop its head. Orange hair framed yellow eyes that glowed with intelligence and age. Around its chest lay a green cat's-eye gem, while a purple ribbon with horn-shaped ornaments served as a kind of crown. Two golden rings adorned its body, and a long pipe dangled from its mouth, smoke curling lazily upward. Every part of it exuded an aura of eternity—an ancient monster that had seen centuries pass like fleeting dreams.
Orochimaru and Uchiha Gen immediately bowed low.
"Greetings, White Snake Sage."
Before the three closest attendants of the Sage, they had dared to hold some arrogance. But before the foundation of Ryūchi Cave itself, the being who stood alongside the Great Toad Sage of Mount Myōboku and Katsuyu of Shikkotsu Forest, they were all respect.
Without these Sages, the so-called Three Great Holy Lands would be nothing more than a snake den, a toad mountain, and a slug forest.
"You two have come far. It must have been difficult," the White Snake Sage said, voice rumbling like a river beneath the earth.
They exchanged courteous words in return, though the truth was that Ryūchi Cave was not so far from the Land of Rice Fields. Nestled in a corner of the small nations between the Lands of Wind and Earth, it was far more accessible than Mount Myōboku, which sat at the very western edge of the continent, or Shikkotsu Forest, which lay hidden deep beneath the sea between the Whirlpool Country and the Land of Water.
"Congratulations on passing my trials," the White Snake Sage continued. "But know this...senjutsu is dangerous. Even now, it is not too late to regret your decision."
Neither master nor disciple wavered. They declared their determination openly.
"Very well. Since you are so resolved, let us begin. Who will be first?"
"Of course my teacher goes first," Gen answered smoothly. "As for me, I only wish to ask one thing, to be taught the method of practicing Ryūchi Cave's Sage Mode. I do not need natural energy forced into me, I can already perceive and absorb it myself."
Orochimaru's golden eyes flicked toward his student, momentarily surprised. So that was his ambition. It was one thing to have confidence in mastering Ryūchi Cave's Sage Mode, it was another to intend to forge a unique Sage Mode of one's own. Orochimaru himself would never dare to claim as much, not yet.
Perhaps after years of study. But not now.
In the original tale of his life, Orochimaru had indeed once attempted Sage Mode. He had submitted to being bitten by the White Snake Sage herself, natural energy forced into him through her fangs. His soul had been flawed then, and he had failed. Yet his body had endured, resisting collapse even as the natural energy twisted him into a snake-like form. That survival had laid the groundwork for everything that followed, his later transformations, the Cursed Mark, and his white snake body.
The White Snake Sage was momentarily still at Gen's bold declaration. Then, suddenly, she laughed. The sound reverberated through the vast temple like rolling thunder.
"Ha! What an arrogant boy! You would use my Ryūchi Cave's Sage Mode as a stepping stone to craft a Sage Mode unique to yourself?"
Gen smiled faintly, unshaken.
"You see clearly, Sage. That is indeed my intent. Another's method will never fit me perfectly. Only a Sage Mode tailored to me alone will be my true path."
The great serpent's massive head swayed slightly, golden eyes fixed on him. Her mouth never moved, yet her voice seemed to resonate directly in the mind.
"Good. Very good. I have never seen a Sage Mode unique to a human. I hope you succeed. And should you encounter obstacles, you may seek me out again."
Gen bowed deeply.
"Thank you for your generosity. But allow me to clarify...what I cultivate will not be a Sage Mode 'for humans.' It will be mine alone. What suits me may not suit others. At most, they might copy a simplified version. But the true form will always remain mine."
The White Snake Sage blinked, then asked with mild amusement, "Are you not human yourself?"
"…Uh." Gen froze, caught off guard. He scratched his head lightly, embarrassed.
"That was careless of me."
"Hahaha…" The White Snake Sage laughed again, great coils shifting as her amusement filled the temple.
Then, without warning, she opened her jaws wide. Her long red tongue flickered outward, shifting and reforming into a smaller serpent with the same white scales. The little snake slithered forward through the air, weaving sinuously until it darted at Orochimaru.
Its fangs gleamed, cold and sharp.
Even knowing this was the beginning of senjutsu training, the sight would have made most men recoil on instinct, eyes squeezing shut as death approached. For the White Snake Sage's fangs were not needles, they were daggers, twin blades poised to pierce deep into flesh.
But Orochimaru did not move. He did not even blink. He stood calmly, allowing the snake to sink its fangs into his neck.
Through that bite, natural energy flooded into him like a surging river, its volume nearly equal to his own chakra reserves. It was not a refined process like Mount Myōboku's patient instruction.
It was brutal, crude, overwhelming...Ryūchi Cave's way.