Madara Uchiha narrowed his crimson eyes, the faint flicker of his Sharingan catching the dim light.
"Old man? Out of fashion?" he echoed, his voice a low rumble of disbelief. Orochimaru's casual taunt dug under his skin like a kunai.
"The purpose of weapons," Orochimaru replied smoothly, lips curling in a sly smile, "is not only to wage war—but also to keep war from happening in the first place."
Madara's brow furrowed. "Are you kidding me?"
He had witnessed too many blood-soaked battles to believe such naïveté. In his long life, war was an inevitability, not something a mere tool could prevent.
"Your opinion limits your thinking, and your thinking limits your opinion," Orochimaru said, voice silken and sharp. The snake-like Sannin almost jabbed a pale finger at the legendary Uchiha, his words cutting as neatly as a scalpel. To him, the great Madara clung to an outdated dream. The Infinite Tsukuyomi—an illusion to force universal peace—was nothing but a fantasy.
Madara's eyes narrowed. "Are you insulting me?"
"How could I be? Am I that bored?" Orochimaru's smirk widened. He raised one long finger, as if presenting a simple riddle. "Suppose you planned to invade a nation, yet that nation possessed a weapon you could not counter. What would you do?"
Madara thought only a breath before answering, "Destroy that weapon, of course."
"Exactly." Orochimaru's smile gleamed. "Until you can destroy such a weapon, you hesitate to attack. That is the true purpose of weapons: deterrence. While you scramble to find a way around it, I develop newer, stronger arms—chakra explosives, perhaps. As long as you cannot match my weapons, you dare not attack my country. My country remains at peace."
He paused deliberately, letting the logic sink in before adding, "Weapons themselves are meaningless. People give them purpose."
Madara crossed his arms, unmoved. "That's only peace between nations. True world peace cannot be achieved with weapons."
The Infinite Tsukuyomi was the only path he believed in, the only way to unite the world under an eternal dream.
Orochimaru's golden eyes gleamed with amusement. "And what contribution have you made to world peace, Madara Uchiha?"
The audacity of the question almost made Madara laugh. Instead, he let out a dismissive "Hmph," unwilling to spar further with words. His silhouette shimmered and vanished into the night.
"After all," Orochimaru called after the empty air, "you're just a chattering old man. An immortal old man!"
He jabbed a finger at the darkness where Madara had stood, irritation flickering across his face. If I get another chance, I'll make him eat those words.
Nearby, hidden in the shadows, Black Zetsu's nerves were fraying. Please stop provoking him, woman, he thought anxiously. What if Madara comes back and actually fights her? The ancient being's entire plan to resurrect Kaguya hinged on Madara. The idea of losing him to a petty argument was almost enough to give Black Zetsu a heart attack—if he had one.
---
Chapter 87 – The Failed Truth-Seeking Ball
Far from that tense meeting, Orochimaru stood alone at Konoha's Third Training Ground. The moonlight shimmered across the still lake as he extended both hands, palms open to the cool night air.
Between his fingers flickered the elemental powers of Fire, Wind, Lightning, Earth, and Water—each chakra nature forming in turn, their energies swirling in a delicate dance. Slowly, carefully, he began to merge them.
His left hand pulsed with Yin Release, the power of form and illusion; his right hand glowed with Yang Release, the essence of vitality. Seven forces—five elemental natures plus Yin and Yang—spiraled together, each vibrating at a different pitch. Orochimaru's golden eyes never blinked.
With Yin to shape… and Yang to stabilize… he thought, focusing every shred of will on the task. The combined chakra condensed into a small, trembling sphere of pale light.
"What is this…?" he whispered.
The ball hovered in the air, unstable and ominous. Could it be the fabled Truth-Seeking Ball—the power said to surpass even the highest Bloodline Limits? But the energy inside felt… wrong.
A low, eerie buzz filled the clearing as the sphere flickered violently. The light warped, twisting itself as if it might implode.
"Not good!" Orochimaru's pupils contracted. In the next instant he vanished, teleporting away with the Flying Thunder God Technique.
A heartbeat later the sphere exploded.
A blinding flash lit the forest, followed by a thunderous roar. Waves of heat and force ripped across the lake. Water surged outward, the surface collapsing inward as though the lake itself were breathing its last. When the light faded, the once-calm waters were half-gone, the shore gouged and scarred.
Orochimaru reappeared on a distant bank, staring wide-eyed.
"Did I just… create a super-bomb?"
The sphere had been smaller than a ping-pong ball, yet its destructive power was staggering. And that had been with only a modest amount of chakra. Even so, it was a failure—too unstable for combat, a jutsu that could as easily kill its user as its enemy.
A familiar voice rang out. "Orochimaru! Were you testing a new jutsu?"
The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, appeared in a flicker of movement. His sharp eyes widened at the sight of the expanded lake and the scorched earth. "What happened here?"
Orochimaru gestured to the devastated clearing. "I attempted to combine multiple chakra nature transformations, Hiruzen-sensei. This is the result."
Hiruzen's pupils shrank. "Combining multiple natures?!" His voice was sharp with alarm. "Only shinobi born with a Bloodline Limit can naturally fuse chakra natures. Without such a bloodline, forcing them together is reckless—you could have killed yourself."
He folded his arms, his expression a storm of concern and reprimand. "If it were that easy, I would have mastered several Bloodline Limits long ago."
Orochimaru tilted his head, curious. "Sensei, you possess all five elemental natures yourself. Have you ever… tried?"
For a moment Hiruzen faltered, memories surfacing of a younger self experimenting despite Tobirama's stern warnings. He coughed, embarrassed. "I… may have attempted it once. Tobirama-sama scolded me harshly. It is far too dangerous. Do not try it again."
Orochimaru only smiled faintly. "Understood, Hiruzen-sensei."
But inside, his ambition burned brighter. This failure was only a matter of insufficient mastery. Once I perfect the seven transformations, I will succeed.
He knew the truth: if creating a Truth-Seeking Ball were simple, someone would have done it in all the years since the Sage of Six Paths.
---
Schemes and Small Distractions
Later that night, Orochimaru's thoughts drifted back to Madara's challenge. He dares dismiss the value of weapons… That old man knows nothing. He imagined dropping a perfected chakra bomb near Madara's lair, just to startle him.
Then another memory surfaced—an obligation. Ah… the manuscript I promised Uzumaki Chigusa.
With a shimmer of space, Orochimaru teleported to Uzushiogakure, the land of the Whirlpool.
Inside a cozy house, a woman with striking red eyes looked up in surprise as he appeared. Uzumaki Chigusa instinctively hid the book in her hands, then, recognizing him, relaxed and continued reading—quite openly, in fact.
"I thought you had forgotten our deal," she said lightly.
Orochimaru set a neat stack of handwritten pages on the table. "I keep my promises. Your requested manuscripts."
She raised a brow, amused. "You write… adult novels, and I'm not allowed to read them?"
"Of course you can, Chief Chigusa," Orochimaru replied, tapping a finger on the pile. "But what would young Naino think if she discovered her esteemed clan leader enjoying such literature?"
Chigusa smirked. "Then I would leave a suicide note to Lady Mito before I died of embarrassment. She'd avenge me."
"Let's not involve Grandma Mito," Orochimaru said with a rare grimace. "You're a terrible adult."
"Why, thank you," Chigusa replied sweetly, clutching the manuscripts to her chest like treasure.
Orochimaru could only sigh at her shamelessness.
---
A Strange Device
As she turned to leave, Chigusa paused. "I heard you enjoy research. I recently acquired a curious object—care to see it?"
"Show me," Orochimaru said, intrigued.
She returned with a peculiar contraption: a frame shaped like a kite, with wing-like extensions and straps with buckles, almost like a primitive wingsuit. A circular mechanism sat at its center, etched with a strange emblem.
"This washed ashore while Naino was swimming," she explained. "I'm not sure where it came from."
Orochimaru examined the object, noting how surprisingly light it felt. "This symbol… it resembles the insignia of a ninja village, though not one I recognize. Perhaps it's some kind of flying device."
Chigusa's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Could someone be targeting the Whirlpool Country?"
"You're overthinking," Orochimaru said after a moment's inspection. "But it's certainly not ordinary."
The two of them stood over the mysterious wingsuit-like artifact, its silent emblem hinting at unknown origins and future intrigue.
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