Sakumo stared blankly at the surging Great Fireball, for a moment forgetting to dodge!
"Orochimaru" perceived Sakumo's situation, and his expression instantly changed. In the nick of time, he cut off the chakra supply to the Great Fireball Jutsu.
"Boom—" The jutsu, deprived of chakra, abruptly exploded just half a meter away from Sakumo.
"Crash!"
Smoke and dust billowed up. Shrapnel—small stones scorched and shattered by the extreme heat—flew in all directions. It was like a rain of pebbles on the spot.
"Orochimaru" frowned, his gaze like two cold streaks of lightning. Sakumo's performance disappointed him. The boy actually froze during combat. Had "Orochimaru" not possessed the experience of two lifetimes and highly refined chakra control skills, it would have resulted in Sakumo's immediate death!
"Orochimaru" looked at Sakumo, who was covered in blood marks from the flying shrapnel and generally disheveled. He shook his head coldly and mocked, "Aren't you a genius? Aren't you a descendant of the Hatake clan? You are too weak. You are truly too weak!"
Sakumo seemed deeply affected by these words.
His entire body suddenly stiffened. Covered in dirt and minor wounds, his right hand slowly moved toward the sword hilt at his lower back. That familiar, cold sensation was like a basin of cold water being thrown over his heart, instantly chilling and making him as serene as a clear lake.
He raised his head. That familiar cold object seemed to transmit a powerful spiritual force to him. The terror and unease from moments ago vanished completely. A budding fighting spirit rapidly surged, and his young face was taut, his eyes sharp, even faintly carrying a hint of killing intent.
"Orochimaru" observed Sakumo's sudden transformation, yet he didn't intervene. Instead, he watched with keen interest. The sinister smile on his lips gradually widened. He licked his lips. Yes, that's the expression I wanted. My body is starting to feel excited!
"Ching—"
"Orochimaru's" ear twitched abruptly as a sharp sound of a blade being drawn reached him. "Hmm?" "Orochimaru" looked at Sakumo in surprise.
The silver-haired boy slowly drew an equally silver-white short blade from behind his back! The blade, entirely silver-white, was forged into a profound, slightly curved arc, resembling a tiger's fang. The edge faintly reflected a cold gleam, appearing incredibly sharp!
"A fine blade!" "Orochimaru" praised silently, growing even more expectant of Sakumo's next move.
Sakumo held the short blade in his right hand. His grave expression, seeming to mimic someone, seriously declared, "The blade is named White Fang. Please enlighten me!"
"Orochimaru" looked amused. His actual strength isn't that great, but he's certainly mastered the theatrics!
A faint breeze blew past. Sakumo fiercely pushed off the ground, rushing forward at high speed. The silver-white short blade slashed a refined, masterful arc through the air. The sharp flash of the blade startled "Orochimaru."
"Clang—"
"Orochimaru" took out a kunai, firmly blocking the ferocious blow.
Sakumo pressed his advantage. With the silver-white short blade in hand, he seemed like a completely different person—sharp and deadly like a veteran swordsman. Though still young, he already displayed the early signs of mastery.
The silver-white sword light traced several silk-like streaks in the air, like fleeting crescent moons. Though beautiful, they contained lethal danger.
"Cling, cling, cling—"
The two clashed repeatedly. "Orochimaru" was not having an easy time. As just a Shadow Clone, his strength was significantly diminished compared to his full-power original body.
Suddenly, "Orochimaru's" movements faltered, and Sakumo capitalized, pressing his fierce attack. The many beautiful streaks of light Sakumo had drawn in the air instantly converged into a dazzling, silver-white "blade-flower," flickering with elegant, deadly coldness, forcing "Orochimaru" to retreat continuously.
Observing this subtle but still slightly awkward swordsmanship—refined in form but lacking the spirit of mastery—"Orochimaru" felt a sense of familiarity. A flash of insight hit him: the swordsmanship used by the mysterious Anbu operative he encountered during his intense training yesterday seemed identical to the style Sakumo was using now.
Could that Anbu be Sakumo's father, Anbu Vice-Commander Hatake Gen? Impossible! I've seen the White Fang's future style, and it wasn't this. Why the change now?
A string of questions arose in "Orochimaru's" mind. The irritation of having his life threatened again after his rebirth, combined with a touch of impatience born from Sakumo's current rapid assault, rushed into "Orochimaru's" head. Unconsciously, a faint but overwhelming surge of ruthless killing intent, like a demon climbing out of the Infinite Hell, was released from Orochimaru's young body.
Hit by this killing intent, Sakumo's entire body violently shook. His compact blade stance was instantly stripped of its sharpness, as if a wooden stick had been brutally shoved into his tight formation.
"Orochimaru" was also momentarily startled. He quickly calmed himself, withdrew the leaking trace of killing intent, and seized the opportunity. With lightning speed, he delivered another kick with a "thump—" to Sakumo's lower abdomen.
"Puh, puh, puh—"
Sakumo, still clutching his short blade, flew several meters back like a bounced ball.
"Orochimaru" couldn't help but inwardly mock himself. Sure enough, without releasing killing intent, relying only on a Shadow Clone is still a bit restrictive!
"Orochimaru" slowly walked up to the collapsed Sakumo. He lifted him from the ground with one hand, his dark-golden snake eyes staring into Sakumo's unfocused ones. He said flatly, "And this is what people call a genius? Do you have the right to be proud like this? You are truly too weak, Sakumo. You disappoint me greatly."
"I'll be waiting for you. Come find me when you feel strong enough to prove your worth!"
With that, "Orochimaru," ignoring Sakumo's face, which was red with humiliation and eyes that seemed ready to spit fire, dropped the exhausted Sakumo to the ground and walked away composedly.
"Orochimaru's" words didn't need to be finished. "Heh heh!" He let out a suppressed, low laugh from his throat. When that time comes, either you defeat me to prove your existence, or you submit to me and allow me to grant you greater strength!
Just as on the previous day, the Real Orochimaru—battered from intense training—was walking home after picking up Maji from school. Suddenly, a massive flow of information and physical exhaustion surged into him. His forward stride abruptly paused. After processing the information, a subtle, shallow smile spread across his lips. Oh? Such an interesting thing happened today, did it?
Sakumo was left alone, sprawled on the silent, scarred training ground, his heart a turmoil of emotions.
I... I lost so completely. I... It's impossible. Impossible!
My very life was saved by him. Even with the White Fang drawn, I couldn't defeat that Orochimaru!
No, how can this be?
He said he'd give me a chance. Yes, I must become stronger. I must become stronger. I will personally wipe away this humiliation!
Sakumo lay on the ground, deep in thought for a long time, until he finally stood up with a determined look and walked toward home.
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