Chapter 300 – Confronting the Mist (Part I)
At the very same time that Kei Uchiha was assaulting the Kaguya compound from one side,
another shadow moved across the mist-shrouded battlefield—
Orochimaru.
---
People often underestimated him.
In the original chronicles of the shinobi world, Orochimaru sometimes appeared weak,
even beaten by his former comrades or their students.
But those people forgot who he was truly fighting against—
legends, monsters, the gods of their generation.
Even among such titans, Orochimaru's name never faded.
And in this era—
before his body had begun to decay, before his soul had been eroded by too many experiments—
his reputation was terrifying.
A survivor of both the Second and Third Great Ninja Wars,
Orochimaru had left behind a trail of blood and horror that haunted countless villages.
Especially the Hidden Mist.
During the Third War, the division under his command had clashed directly with Kirigakure's elite forces—
and obliterated them.
To this day, the Mist still whispered his name as one of their greatest nightmares.
---
He moved through the fog like a serpent through tall grass—silent, deliberate, unhurried.
He didn't know that a Byakugan had already spotted him.
But even if he did, he probably wouldn't have cared.
He and Kei had already reached an understanding.
Kei would draw attention; Orochimaru would strike from the shadows and take what he wanted.
As far as he was concerned, even if his presence was discovered, it was of little consequence.
He already carried the brand of "Konoha's traitor."
He was used to being hunted—by the Leaf's own Sannin, Jiraiya, no less.
He didn't need another assassination squad from the Mist chasing him across the world.
But if trouble could be avoided…
why not spare himself the inconvenience?
---
The only thing that genuinely interested him was how much Kei had grown.
"That Senju-brat's chakra… it's stronger than last time."
He remembered their last encounter.
Back then, Kei's chakra had been sharp but unstable.
Now, it was dense, refined—disciplined.
No experienced shinobi wasted chakra at the start of a battle.
Not unless he was absolutely confident.
And Kei had opened the fight with a large-scale jutsu.
That alone spoke volumes.
"He's learning," Orochimaru murmured with a smirk.
---
"Who's there?!"
The shout came from ahead.
Kaguya clan guards—stern-faced, bone-strong, utterly loyal.
Orochimaru didn't even slow down.
His golden eyes gleamed with amusement as he walked right past them.
He had studied the compound's layout already.
The outer walls were guarded by expendable soldiers—
those whom Kaguya Shigemitsu, the clan head, didn't trust or didn't like.
The inner wings, though—
those were his real men.
The ones he couldn't afford to lose.
And that was exactly where Orochimaru was headed.
He could have followed Kei and taken a few stragglers,
but adults were useless to him.
What he wanted were children.
Unshaped, uncorrupted, full of potential—
perfect vessels for experimentation… or loyalty.
---
"Fsshhh…"
He hissed softly, his tongue flicking across his lips as the guards surrounded him.
Then the air changed.
The Kaguya warriors froze mid-charge, eyes widening in confusion.
Their faces darkened, veins pulsing black beneath their skin.
One by one, they began clutching at their throats, gasping, choking.
In seconds, they were writhing on the ground,
and tiny white and black serpents slithered out from their boots,
their fangs glistening with venom.
Orochimaru simply stepped over them, unbothered.
The Mist had called him a demon for a reason—
he was one.
---
Efficiency.
That was all that mattered to him.
A shinobi's worth was measured not by honor or courage,
but by how efficiently he achieved his goals.
He could have killed them all noiselessly,
but the visible death and panic would draw attention away from his true target—
and that was exactly what he wanted.
Soon, other guards began shouting, alarms ringing through the compound.
But he didn't care.
Even with the commotion, most of the Kaguya's strength had already been diverted to the front—
to fight Kei's strike team.
Their defenses here were weak.
---
Then, a kunai whistled through the air.
It struck the ground in front of him—
embedding itself deep into the soil, almost to the hilt.
Orochimaru stopped, tilting his head with faint amusement.
"Well now," he said, smiling faintly. "Strong throw."
A figure emerged from the mist—grim-faced, broad-shouldered.
Kaguya Shigemitsu.
"Lord Orochimaru," Shigemitsu said stiffly. "You weren't exactly subtle. 'Discovered' isn't the right word."
Orochimaru chuckled, the sound low and serpentine.
"Well, you've caught me," he said smoothly. "But I'm not here for you."
The Kaguya leader's face darkened.
"Oh? Then what are you here for?"
"I just need a few of your children."
The words were casual, almost polite.
Shigemitsu's expression froze. "You can't be serious."
"Oh, but I am."
Orochimaru's tone was light, almost teasing. "You have two options.
Either you give them to me… or I take them myself."
He tilted his head, smiling faintly.
"You've struck a bargain with Uchiha Kei, haven't you?
So why not with me?"
---
The name alone made Shigemitsu's eyes widen.
Cold sweat slid down his temples.
He knows.
How much did he know?
How deep did his connection with Kei go?
Had Kei told him everything?
The thought made him sick.
---
"You—what's your relationship with him?"
Orochimaru waved the question away lazily.
"Guess," he said. "You wouldn't believe the truth anyway."
His eyes narrowed, gleaming with curiosity.
"But I can tell you this much—you've both made a deal.
You with that scheming little Uchiha, and now… with me."
Shigemitsu scowled. "Careful what you say, Lord Orochimaru."
He was trying to sound calm, but his voice trembled slightly.
"Even if I did… what makes you think I'll agree to yours?"
Orochimaru's grin widened, tongue flicking across his lips.
"Because you're ambitious," he whispered.
"And ambition always fears losing everything.
Would you really risk your clan's future just to deny me a few children?"
The words sank deep.
And though Shigemitsu's jaw clenched, he didn't respond.
Because Orochimaru was right.
---
He hated it—but he knew it.
Orochimaru was a monster, a walking catastrophe,
a man whose name was whispered in the Mist the way others spoke of death itself.
He was their Boogeyman, their Yellow Flash, their Demon of the Leaf.
And the Kaguya leader wasn't foolish enough to fight him.
---
"I agree," Shigemitsu finally muttered through gritted teeth.
"You win. You and that damned Uchiha are both the same—snakes hiding in shadows."
"Wise choice."
Orochimaru's smile sharpened.
He'd expected nothing less.
Shigemitsu might be proud,
but even pride knows when to bow before death.
---
Elsewhere, Kenta Imai was already moving to regroup.
He'd done his part—unleashing massive Water Release techniques, drawing the Kaguya's main forces away.
After a grueling fight and a few clever clone diversions,
he'd finally slipped free.
He could still sense Kei's chakra in the distance—steady, cold, lethal.
Twenty dead in under three minutes.
Typical Uchiha.
He grimaced. "Whatever he caught in there, it better be worth it.
If we have to pull this stunt again, I'm quitting this insane job."
He shook his head.
Missions like this—toppling an entire hidden village from within—were the kind of insanity that could start a war.
And if anyone found out,
it wouldn't matter if they succeeded or failed—
they'd all be hunted like dogs.
Not everyone had Danzo's protection, or his network of Root operatives.
He exhaled slowly. Just trust Kei, he told himself. He's good at covering tracks.
---
Minutes later, he reached the small wooden house.
He stayed cautious, extending his chakra sense through the fog.
The area seemed clear—no reinforcements yet.
He relaxed slightly, feeling his chakra reserves restored enough for another fight if necessary.
That was when the door opened.
Kei and Ayaka stepped out, still masked—
but in Ayaka's arms was a small, white-haired child.
The boy was tiny—barely three years old—
with faint red markings on his forehead and pale skin almost glowing under the mistlight.
Even so, Kenta could feel it.
There was chakra in him already. Strong. Natural.
"Got him?" Kenta asked.
Kei nodded. "Mission complete. How's your side?"
"Still breathing. But the Mist will be here soon. I sensed ANBU closing in."
Kenta frowned, eyeing the boy. "That's our target? No trouble?"
Kei's voice was calm, but his words were edged.
"Let's just say we were lucky.
This child was… discarded by his clan head."
"Discarded," Kei murmured. "But… special."
Kei glanced at the small boy dangling from Ayaka Hyūga's hand—
Kimimaro.
"Not quite what I expected," he murmured, "but the mission's complete, at least."
He had been wrong about one thing.
Kimimaro had not yet awakened his Shikotsumyaku, the Kaguya clan's cursed bloodline.
The reason for his isolation wasn't his Kekkei Genkai,
but rather the fact that he was the child of Kaguya Shigemitsu's defeated rival.
Still, the result was the same—
ostracized, alone, unwanted.
Kei could already see the shape of his future.
One day, this boy would truly become what Kei had imagined:
a weapon forged from solitude, loyalty, and pain.
For now, though, he was just a seed—
but a seed with terrifying potential.
If not for the risk that Ayaka might drain the boy's blood for her experiments,
Kei might have actually considered keeping him—
to train him, mold him, turn him into one of his own men.
Because Kimimaro possessed something rare:
absolute loyalty.
It wasn't born of ideology, nor ambition,
but of a childhood so broken it left no room for self-interest.
Kei had only ever seen that kind of unwavering devotion once—
and that was in Kimimaro himself.
If Kisame Hoshigaki was the embodiment of a shinobi's resolve,
then Kimimaro Kaguya was the very definition of loyalty.
---
"So, he hasn't awakened his bloodline," said Kenta Imai, breaking the silence.
"What about his mother? You handled that?"
"She resisted," Kei said evenly, "but I didn't kill her.
Let Kaguya Shigemitsu deal with her.
Of course, if you pity her, feel free to drag her along."
Kenta snorted. "I don't have that kind of sympathy."
And truly, it didn't matter whether the woman lived or died.
Someone would deal with her soon enough—most likely Shigemitsu himself.
Better to let him choke on his own cruelty.
---
"Then let's move," Kei said calmly, scanning the mist around them.
"As planned, I'll summon the Fourth Hokage when the time's right.
Until then, cover my flanks and intercept any Mist reinforcements.
I'll take the front head-on."
"No need to repeat yourself—we got it," Ayaka replied, though her tone was sharper than usual.
"But, Captain… are you sure we'll regroup successfully?
If we get separated in the chaos—"
Kei's eyes softened for just a moment beneath his mask.
"I told you before: you'll find me. And I'll wait for you."
He understood what she was really asking.
It wasn't that she feared losing him on the battlefield—
it was that she feared the Fourth Hokage might arrive,
snatch him away mid-fight with Flying Raijin,
and leave them stranded behind enemy lines.
A reasonable concern.
Once Minato entered the field, they'd have no way of keeping up.
But Kei's mind was already made up.
He needed to draw the Mist's wrath,
bleed them, humiliate them—
until Obito had no choice but to unleash his trump card: the Fourth Mizukage himself.
---
"Understood."
Ayaka and Kenta exchanged a glance, then nodded.
They knew they couldn't change his mind.
Without another word, they split off toward the flanks, disappearing into the haze.
Kei watched them go, then exhaled quietly.
"They worry too much," he muttered.
"If things go right, they'll know when to move back in."
He crouched down, resting an arm on his knee,
his gaze fixed on the dark horizon.
He could already sense them coming—
the faint vibrations of chakra signatures drawing closer through the mist.
The Mist's main forces were nearly upon him.
He smiled beneath the spiral mask.
---
Perfect.
If Obito followed the plan,
then the Fourth Mizukage, as a controlled Jinchūriki,
would be his perfect counterstroke.
That would be Obito's cue—
and Kei's performance had to make it convincing.
He would hurt them badly,
so badly that Obito would be forced to "respond."
That was how the story had to unfold.
---
"Hmm?"
Kei lifted his head slightly, the scarlet tomoe in his Sharingan spinning lazily beneath the white mask.
Then, slowly, a cold smile curved his lips.
"They're here."
He rose to his feet, brushing the dust from his cloak, his chakra flaring faintly like distant thunder.
"The last time we met," he murmured, voice low and sharp,
"I let two of you Mist rats escape."
His gaze turned toward the fog where chakra signatures pulsed like dying stars.
"This time," he said, the Sharingan gleaming blood-red,
"before the Fourth Hokage arrives—"
"Let's see how many of you can still run."
---