As Kabuto vanished into the night, the white snake shook its head and darted into the forest.
It moved with incredible speed—like a white phantom—and in no time, it arrived at the location of Orochimaru's clone.
The snake coiled itself around Orochimaru's arm and rested. The journey had clearly drained it, and from the top of its head, a smaller head emerged.
"Kabuto used too much force this time."
Djinn raised an eyebrow. "He acts like he doesn't care, but that revenge... it was impressive. He poured everything into destroying Root—he's completely out of chakra now."
"That's only natural. He's been suppressed for so long," Orochimaru said with a casual smile.
"If Kabuto doesn't survive this, then we'll use his capture to lure Obito to Konoha. Either way, it's just a different storyline and a bit more time."
Orochimaru understood well—someone like Obito, who bore a deep grudge against Konoha and Root, and who had lost everything dear to him, would be easy to manipulate.
It wasn't just shared pain. After a crushing defeat, Obito would be desperate to grow stronger.
"Fair point," Djinn replied, raising his eyebrows again. "But seriously, when are you going to give me a better body? This little snake's worthless. It runs a short distance and collapses from exhaustion."
Orochimaru glanced at him. "I don't have time for that now, and you saw how difficult it is."
From cursed seals to the Serpentis—his first evolved Zanpakuto—the process had only grown more demanding. The chakra-split soul form was stronger, but far more selective with its hosts.
Possibly due to its unique shape, none of Orochimaru's subordinates could successfully bond with the Serpentis—except this white snake, after hundreds of trials.
But Orochimaru wasn't concerned. The difficulty was just part of the process.
Soon, the Serpentis would be sent to the Pure Land. Once the right host was found, things would move quickly.
Besides, from soul-splitting Zanpakuto to the host trials, Orochimaru had a nagging feeling: Djinn was hiding something.
He didn't fear being betrayed—Djinn could seize control of his body at any time if he wanted. But if he had a request, it would cost him. Time was precious.
"Tsk, tsk... So cautious. That's not like you," Djinn said with a sideways glance. Suddenly, his expression shifted. "The reinforcements sent by the Third Hokage have arrived."
"Then it's time for us to move, too," Orochimaru said, still wearing Kabuto's face, and vanished.
At Roots's location, Jiraiya and the Anbu following him froze in shock.
What had once been flat ground was now a massive crater. At the bottom, dozens of Root operatives sat slumped, humiliated and defeated.
Jiraiya instantly appeared beside them and asked Danzo—bleeding from the forehead—"What happened here?"
Danzo's lone eye blazed with fury and madness.
"You're asking me? Ask your good friend Orochimaru! If not for him, how would this have happened...?"
"Lord Danzo, what do you mean?" Jiraiya frowned. "Orochimaru is negotiating with the Land of Lightning right now—you know that."
But Danzo only responded with venom and hostility.
Root had been decimated. Decades of work, gone in a moment. It was enough to shatter anyone's mind.
To make matters worse, Danzo could already imagine Hiruzen—old bastard that he was—pretending to help rebuild Root on the surface, while quietly ensuring Danzo could never rise again.
Danzo hadn't heard what Kabuto said before leaving, but the experience—this crushing helplessness—was all too familiar. Watching his dream of becoming Hokage dissolve into dust filled him with rage and despair.
Seeing that Danzo was beyond reason, Jiraiya turned to one of the surviving Root operatives and asked what had happened.
The ninja didn't know everything, but he had seen the battle in the square and quickly gave a detailed account.
Jiraiya's expression darkened as he realized the instigator had been none other than Kabuto, one of Orochimaru's subordinates.
How had Kabuto's power skyrocketed? Where did he learn Sage Mode?
At the moment, those answers didn't matter. What mattered was the threat he now posed.
Jiraiya couldn't help but wonder—did Orochimaru already know what was going on?
Given the unspoken understanding they had built over years of life-and-death situations, he was certain: Orochimaru definitely wasn't in the dark.
And that made things even more troublesome.
Jiraiya rubbed his tired face, sighing inwardly. Either way, the first priority was to capture Kabuto.
He glanced at Danzo, who was still fuming with rage, and gave an order to one of the Genin:
"Look after Lord Danzo. Make sure he doesn't cause any more trouble."
With that, he led the accompanying Anbu team and vanished into the night.
Among them, Uchiha Shinsuke stole a quick glance back at Danzo, disheveled and furious. Though he knew he probably shouldn't, he couldn't help but feel a hint of satisfaction.
Still... that guy actually went through with it.
Like Jiraiya, Shinsuke felt a strange, unfamiliar mix of emotions—guilt, maybe? Or something like it.
After Jiraiya disappeared into the darkness, Danzo finally stopped shouting.
He straightened up, his expression cold and composed again. His eyes lingered on the direction Jiraiya had gone, filled not with anger over Root's destruction—but with quiet fury at the pity he had seen in Jiraiya's eyes.
Pity, huh…
Danzo brushed the dust from his clothes and started walking toward a place he had already decided on.
A Root Genin cautiously asked, "Lord Danzo, where are we going?"
Danzo stopped. Without turning his full body, he looked over his shoulder—his sharp, eagle-like gaze freezing the Genin in place.
SMACK!
With a sudden backhand, he sent the ninja to the ground. He then scanned the group, his eyes icy and focused.
"What, do you think Root is finished? As long as I'm alive, Root will never fall."
With that, he vanished.
In a hidden underground laboratory not far from Root's former base, Danzo stepped inside.
There, researchers—isolated from the chaos above and immersed in their experiments—were hard at work.
Danzo addressed the lead scientist. "How is the research progressing on the data we obtained from Orochimaru?"
The lead researcher looked up, surprised by Danzo's disheveled appearance. "It's progressing well. Within two months—possibly even one—we should be able to develop a viable transplantation procedure."
"Too slow," Danzo snapped, his eyes narrowing. "If you performed the transplant right now, what are the chances of success?"
The researcher hesitated, eyes darting slightly. "About a fifty percent chance, sir."
Fifty percent. A coin toss between life and death.
Danzo closed his eyes for a long moment. Then he opened them, calm but resolute.
"That's good enough. Begin the operation—on me."
"Lord Danzo, but…" The researcher started to protest—until he saw the madness in Danzo's eyes.
And fell silent.
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