Carl was fully aware that even if he destroyed Orochimaru's current body completely, as long as there was a single ninja alive who bore Orochimaru's cursed seal, the snake-like shinobi could resurrect himself through that vessel.
To eliminate Orochimaru permanently, one would not only have to destroy his physical form, but also track down and erase every single ninja branded with the cursed mark—no survivors. Either that, or seal his soul entirely using the Uzumaki clan's ultimate forbidden technique: the Reaper Death Seal (Shiki Fūjin), locking him away forever in the belly of the Shinigami.
But Carl's objective wasn't to kill Orochimaru today. His primary goal was to stop Orochimaru from planting the cursed seal on Sasuke and to assert his strength—enough to catch Orochimaru's attention for a future negotiation.
"Ten Thousand Snakes Formation!"
The sinister sennin, his body freshly regenerated, crouched low and flung open his jaw wider than a crocodile's. Thousands of venomous snakes erupted from his mouth, writhing over each other to form a wave of scales and fangs, surging toward Carl like a slithering tsunami.
Orochimaru had quickly realized through their earlier exchange that close combat with Carl would be suicide. The sheer physical power Carl displayed was terrifying. Rather than risk another direct confrontation, he chose to attack indirectly by summoning a mass of serpents to overwhelm his opponent.
"Fly Around!"
Carl raised his wand and, with a flick, cast a summoning charm—pulling Orochimaru's own Kusanagi Sword straight from the ground where it was dropped. The gleaming blade snapped into his hand. Carl glanced up at the monstrous tide of snakes approaching, their tongues flicking and venom dripping.
Anyone suffering from trypophobia would likely pass out on the spot.
He contemplated unleashing the Fiendfyre Curse—one of the most destructive fire curses known to wizardkind—but hesitated. Its uncontrollable nature, akin to the black flames of Amaterasu, meant it would devour anything and everything, potentially reducing the entire forest to ash. Unlike Grindelwald, Carl's mastery of this curse wasn't refined enough yet to contain its spread.
He sighed and stashed the Kusanagi blade into the Traceless Extension Bag tied at his waist. While he could have charged in, mowing down the snakes with sheer speed and precision, he didn't relish the idea of bathing in snake guts. Besides, as the royal prince of the Land of Fire, his image mattered. He couldn't risk being seen blood-soaked if the Konoha Anbu arrived.
Instead, he made a more elegant decision.
"Come to welcome, Thousand-Hands Killer!"
With a clap of his hands, a golden chakra construct materialized around him—The Thousand-Armed Avalokiteśvara, the legendary jutsu of the Fire Temple. Countless golden arms fanned out in all directions, creating a divine shield. As the snakes attacked, they were instantly repelled or pulverized by the flurry of divine strikes.
The sight was surreal—carnage delivered with the grace of a god.
"Acalanatha!"
The serene golden construct shimmered red, transforming into the fearsome wrathful deity—Fudō Myō-ō. Two glowing crimson fists shot forward, slamming into Orochimaru with devastating force. He was hurled backward, his newly regenerated skin peeling away once again.
"So, you've mastered the secret techniques of the Fire Temple," Orochimaru muttered, brows furrowed. His analytical mind was racing.
He recognized those jutsu—rare and powerful techniques reserved only for the highest-ranked monks of the Fire Temple. The power Carl wielded was not only formidable in taijutsu but also in advanced chakra jutsu. Orochimaru realized that unless he summoned Manda, his personal summon, bypassing Carl was impossible.
But summoning Manda would be a high-risk move. Not only would it drain his chakra, but it might also spiral things out of control. If the Chunin Exams were cancelled due to an incident in the Forest of Death, his months of meticulous planning would go to waste.
He had already lingered here longer than intended. There was a real possibility that the Third Hokage had already been alerted. If the Anbu were en route, he had to retreat.
There was still time—more than a month remained before the Chunin Exams concluded.
"I will remember you, Prince Carl of the Land of Fire," Orochimaru hissed, eyes narrow and slitted like a viper's. Rather than pursue Sasuke, he slowly slithered backward, fading into the woods.
"Konoha Collapse Plan."
Carl spoke softly, yet the words struck Orochimaru like a thunderclap.
The Sannin froze mid-step and turned sharply. His cold golden eyes met Carl's calm gaze.
"...How do you know that name?" he whispered.
Aside from his inner circle, only Danzo, Kabuto, and the Fourth Kazekage knew about the Konoha Collapse Plan. Could Danzo have betrayed him? Or—more disturbingly—was Carl somehow connected to one of them?
But that was impossible. Carl was a prince of the Land of Fire. Not of Wind. And certainly not one of Danzo's pawns.
"Did Danzo tell you?"
Carl's smile was calm, composed—almost infuriatingly serene.
"That's not important. What is important is this: I want to make a deal with you. In exchange for my silence, I want your help locating Konoha's Forbidden Scrolls—wherever they're being stored."
Orochimaru's eyes narrowed further. The puzzle pieces were shifting. Carl knew the Konoha Collapse Plan. He was not aligned with Danzo or the Kazekage. He was not just a royal figurehead. And now he wanted the forbidden jutsu sealed in the Scroll of Seals?
Things had taken an intriguing turn.
"If you want that information… then what benefit do I get out of this?" Orochimaru asked, licking the corner of his mouth like a predator tasting curiosity. "Thanks to you, I've lost a valuable opportunity. That makes me... very displeased."
Carl's smile didn't waver.
"You benefit by not having me reveal your plan to the Hokage. And, more importantly, I won't interfere the next time you approach Sasuke."
Orochimaru scoffed. "Do you even hear yourself?"
But something behind his words was deliberate. Carl was bargaining not with fear, but strategy. He wanted Orochimaru as a tool—not an enemy.
As Orochimaru stood silently, weighing the proposition, a thought struck him: Who exactly is this Carl?
A prince? A monk? A ninja? Or something else entirely?
He don't know....
And that made him dangerous—and fascinating.
Orochimaru's smile returned. "Very well, Carl. I'll consider your request. But remember… we both play a long game."
With that, he vanished into the trees, leaving Carl alone amid the writhing remains of serpents and scorched branches.