"South… are we really not going after them?"
"What for?"
"What for? To hunt down those filthy Kiri shinobi, of course! There's still about a hundred and sixty or seventy of them left! Are we just going to let them slip away?"
The one speaking was a Konoha shinobi.
The setting was the battlefield.
A skirmish had just ended here—one unit of fleeing Kiri-nin had been wiped out. The Konoha shinobi were now cleaning up the field and treating the wounded. The squad leaders—several seasoned jōnin—were gathered apart, not doing grunt work, but discussing what to do next.
"Who said we're letting them go?"
Another Konoha shinobi responded calmly, unhurried.
"Hm? You mean another unit has already… wait, that can't be right. We just contacted the other three squads, and they're all busy chasing down different Kiri groups. None of them have spare manpower for the southern pursuit. Besides, those fleeing south were our prey to begin with. Handing them over to another squad would make no sense."
Though Kirigakure's forces had already been thoroughly defeated in this war, the fighting had not yet fully concluded.
Konoha's shinobi had spent the past few days relentlessly hunting down scattered Kiri remnants. To avoid the risk of a counterattack during the pursuit, the rule was simple: if they were chasing ten Kiri-nin, Konoha would send at least fifteen to twenty shinobi. That way, they could both maximize kills and minimize their own casualties.
After all,
Konoha might be vast and powerful, but the cost of successive wars against Suna, Kumo, and Iwa had been enormous. Strictly speaking, their manpower committed on the eastern front had been inferior to Kirigakure's. Their victory had come only by relying on overwhelming high-end combat power, tearing straight through the Kiri's main front lines and throwing their forces into leaderless chaos.
Otherwise,
so many Kiri shinobi would not have managed to escape in the first place.
Unable to devour the Kiri army whole, Konoha had resorted to a decapitation strategy—cut off the head, and the rest would be butchered at leisure.
The group of Kiri-nin fleeing southward were originally this squad's assigned prey. They had already cut down the "tail" those Kiri had abandoned.
"It's Orochimaru-sama."
Another shinobi finally spoke.
"Orochimaru-sama?"
"That's right. Orochimaru-sama has personally gone after the ones fleeing south." The man looked at his jōnin comrades and said gravely: "Don't ask me why Orochimaru-sama chose to act. He contacted me himself, told me that the southern Kiri are his to handle alone, and ordered us to focus on other groups."
"…If it's Orochimaru-sama, I've got no complaints."
The jōnin who had raised doubts muttered, but offered no further objection.
The topic ended there.
No one pressed to know why Orochimaru would suddenly take an interest in a battered group of retreating Kiri-nin. No one questioned whether he could handle over a hundred enemies by himself. Because… this was Orochimaru-sama.
A mere hundred-odd Kiri shinobi, at best including one talent from the Hōzuki clan and one from the Kirigumo clan—troublesome, perhaps, to ordinary jōnin. But for Orochimaru-sama… those "genius brats" were nothing more than minor inconveniences.
There was nothing to worry about.
From the moment Orochimaru had set his sights on them, their fates had already been sealed.
---
A massive ash-gray serpent slithered at breakneck speed through the forest, flattening grass and brush in its wake, leaving behind a deep trail. Upon its head stood a man radiating an aura of menace.
The rushing wind whipped his black hair, revealing eyes gleaming like molten gold, violet shadows stretching down to his nose, magatama-shaped turquoise earrings swaying from his ears. He wore the deep green vest of a Konoha jōnin—yet the word that best described him was sinister.
His skin was so deathly pale it seemed untouched by sunlight for decades, like that of a prisoner long sealed underground—or a corpse bereft of warmth. Not a trace of blood-colored life could be seen.
This was Orochimaru.
One of the legendary Sannin, disciple of the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, and recently, even being named among the top candidates for Fourth Hokage.
A man at the pinnacle of Konoha's power.
And now,
this great figure was personally chasing down a ragtag band of Kiri survivors.
"The Kirigumo clan's Boil Release… the Hōzuki clan's Hydrification Technique… fine materials for research. Normally, acquiring specimens this rare would require a long journey to the Land of Water. But in wartime… they deliver themselves to me. Quite considerate—saves me so much trouble."
The ash-gray serpent slowed.
Orochimaru, murmuring to himself, lowered his head. His gaze fixed on a tiny puddle nestled in the grass. A smile curved his lips—one that froze the blood.
In the next instant,
a figure burst from the water.
"Water Release: Water Gun Technique!"
The figure was Hōzuki Mangetsu, the genius youth of his clan. Leaping high, he ignored the gaping maw of the charging serpent and instead raised his hand toward Orochimaru atop its head. From his fingertips, liquid bullets shot forth with explosive force.
The drops tore through trees and shattered rock with ease. They pierced straight through Orochimaru's body.
But—
A heartbeat later, his body dissolved into mud, dripping away.
"Earth Substitution?"
Mangetsu frowned.
Failing to kill Orochimaru in one blow was expected. That wasn't surprising. The troubling part was that the man's Earth Release was flawless—Mangetsu had seen no sign of its casting. There was no time to think further.
The massive serpent lunged, jaws gaping wide, swallowing Mangetsu whole.
But then—
BOOM!!
Its neck exploded outward in a violent burst. Blood fountained like a geyser, chunks of flesh raining down. From the ruptured wound, Mangetsu burst free, unscathed, wielding a bizarre greatsword bound in countless explosive tags.
"So this is the Blastsword—Shibuki?"
Orochimaru reappeared, once again standing upon the serpent's head beside the dripping mud clone. His golden eyes gleamed with curiosity as he studied the weapon in Mangetsu's hand.