After giving the order, the Third Hokage was about to leave.
Then he noticed something off.
None of the ANBU spoke. Not a single word. Instead, they silently stepped aside—clearing a path as if they'd been waiting for someone.
Footsteps echoed.
Uchiha Feiyu walked in at an unhurried pace, glanced over the wrecked battlefield, and let out a soft laugh.
"Orochimaru-sensei… weren't you here for revenge? Why are you this pathetic?"
Orochimaru's face was deathly pale. He fished a brown pill from his pocket and swallowed it dry. A moment later, he doubled over and retched—violently.
With a wet, awful sound, a new Orochimaru crawled out of his mouth.
The broken-legged body he'd been wearing collapsed into a puddle of discarded human skin.
"Heh…" Orochimaru's smile was thin, cruel. "Sarutobi-sensei didn't get away clean either. At his age, being poisoned and injured again and again… even if he recovers, his strength will drop by at least thirty percent."
"And I?" His eyes gleamed. "I'll be back to full strength soon enough."
He said it like that—but the truth was, without Feiyu showing up, Orochimaru would've been finished.
His body was repaired, yes, but his chakra reserves were already running on fumes. This time, he'd burned them down to the last drop. Worse, that stimulant pill left his system in chaos—he wouldn't even be able to refine chakra properly for a while.
If Sarutobi Hiruzen had decided to swing again, even half-dead, a single strike from that staff could've ended Orochimaru on the spot.
No "aftereffects" mattered if you were simply beaten to death.
Compared to Orochimaru's flicker of relief at Feiyu's arrival, the Third Hokage felt only dread. His expression darkened.
"Uchiha Feiyu…" he said hoarsely. "Orochimaru used the Uchiha for human experimentation. You still want to follow him? Aren't you afraid he'll put you on the table next?"
Feiyu clicked his tongue.
"Of course I know what kind of person my teacher is. But I also know what kind of person you are—what kind of hellhole Konoha is."
He spoke lightly, like he was discussing the weather.
"Working with you is one thing. Building a faction with you? Forget it."
"Instead of sweating to build my own power base from scratch…" Feiyu's smile sharpened, "…it's far more efficient to cuckoo into another nest."
"Occupy a ready-made force. Take it over from the inside."
Orochimaru's interest flared immediately.
"Then come with me," he urged, voice smooth. "If we join hands, we can build a new power that rivals the Five Great Villages."
"Whether it's my research… or your slaughter…" he continued, almost conversationally, "both require backing. In the shinobi world, not having enough subordinates is a constant annoyance."
Feiyu's gaze drifted toward the shadows behind Orochimaru—toward the loyal followers who were already gathering beyond the village.
There was envy in his eyes for a split second.
Then he shook his head.
"Pass. I'm not interested in founding a brand-new village."
He understood his own limits. In building factions and "loyalty systems," Orochimaru was a true expert—someone who could turn people into tools without them even realizing.
If Feiyu really partnered with him long-term, the ending would be obvious: Feiyu would become a high-end blade in Orochimaru's hand.
A very sharp blade, perhaps.
But still a blade.
Besides… Orochimaru's research might be priceless to ordinary shinobi, but to Feiyu it was only "fine." Not enough profit to justify letting the snake coil around his neck.
Feiyu turned back toward the Third Hokage.
"No misunderstanding," he said. "By the way, I should tell you something unfortunate."
"I've already read through Root's entire archive."
His smile widened.
"I understand Konoha far better than you think. Probably not less than you… and Danzo."
The Third Hokage's lips trembled.
Those materials… weren't something you could show civilians or ordinary shinobi. Forget secrecy—just the contents alone could ignite enough fury to burn Konoha to the ground.
Feiyu's voice stayed mild, almost polite.
"And there's more."
"I copied certain parts of Root's files—thousands of copies." He tilted his head. "On my way from the Uchiha district to here, I finished distributing them."
The Third Hokage's vision went black at the edges. He nearly collapsed on the spot.
His mouth moved—once, twice—but he didn't order anyone to stop them.
Partly because Konoha was already in chaos.
Partly because Feiyu's genjutsu was the kind of nightmare you didn't casually try to restrain.
And partly because… even if Danzo had been alive, you could've thrown him onto the altar as a scapegoat.
But now?
Feiyu's eyes made it clear: Danzo wasn't coming back.
If the village couldn't vent its rage on Root anymore, then the flames would climb—straight toward the leadership.
Feiyu watched the Third Hokage's expression twist and shift, amused. Then he turned away.
Orochimaru coughed twice, pale as death, and laughed with real satisfaction as he followed.
Five-Senses Control had pushed Feiyu's genjutsu to a frightening level. And with a Sharingan that was already brushing against Mangekyō quality, controlling a "normal" Kage-level shinobi—like Obito once did in the future—was no longer impossible.
And there just so happened to be a major village right now whose high-level combat power had been nearly wiped out by the war.
A perfect nest.
A perfect time to slip in.
Orochimaru's mouth twitched. He couldn't deny the logic.
This kind of "cuckoo takeover" was something only a top-tier Uchiha illusionist could attempt—someone terrifying even by Uchiha standards. Orochimaru's genjutsu was excellent, but long-term control over a village leader?
Impossible.
For an instant, an absurd thought even crossed his mind—
Should I just… join my disciple instead?
He could build factions, yes. But the time and effort it took… if he poured that into research instead, wouldn't it be better?
In the end, pride crushed the idea.
Orochimaru let out a long sigh.
"In that case…" he said slowly, "…it seems we can only part ways."
Feiyu nodded without hesitation.
"Sure. But we can still cooperate."
"If you need something handled, Orochimaru-sensei, contact me." His smile was calm. "As long as the payment is ready."
He didn't specify what "payment" meant.
He didn't have to.
Orochimaru understood perfectly.
Every time Orochimaru experimented, there were corpses left behind—high-grade bloodline "materials" that died only because of incompatible grafts and rejection.
Useless to Orochimaru.
But to Feiyu?
Throw them into the Blood Pool and they became premium feed.
Orochimaru licked his lips, eyes glittering.
"Cooperation, hm? Fine."
"I'm honestly looking forward to seeing how much chaos you can stir up, brat."
He knew better than anyone how Feiyu's strength grew—stepping on bones and lives, drinking the world's disorder like water.
A boy like that was born for war.
He'll make the shinobi world even messier, Orochimaru thought with a quiet thrill. And only in that mess will he truly keep rising…
A future worth anticipating.
After separating from Orochimaru, Feiyu didn't waste time.
He went straight to the underground Blood Pool.
He still had dozens of Uchiha corpses in hand. Tossing them in would push his bloodline another step forward—
And the dōjutsu incubating in those eyes would finally show itself.
He was practiced now.
When Feiyu tore open the flesh cocoon formed in the Blood Pool again, he could already feel what was waiting inside his eyes.
He opened them.
Three tomoe spun slowly.
Outwardly, it still looked like a standard three-tomoe Sharingan.
But internally… the essence had already crossed into Mangekyō territory.
Feiyu froze.
"…Both eyes are Tsukuyomi?"
For a moment, he didn't know whether to laugh or curse.
People always said Mangekyō abilities reflected the obsession of the moment you awakened it. If he had an obsession, it was Kotoamatsukami and Kamui.
So what was this?
Two Tsukuyomi?
Wasn't that just… losing a technique for free?
But as he examined it more deeply, his expression shifted.
Maybe it wasn't bad at all.
Just like Shisui's both-eye Kotoamatsukami was leaps beyond normal Mangekyō techniques…
Feiyu's dual-eye Tsukuyomi was also far stronger than Itachi's.
First—time control inside the illusion.
Itachi could stretch a moment into three days.
Feiyu could stretch it without a hard limit.
The longer he extended it, the more chakra it cost—but the ceiling wasn't fixed.
With Feiyu's chakra reserves, stretching the illusion world to months… even a full year… was entirely possible.
The consumption would be terrifying, yes.
But he could do it.
Second—when both eyes resonated, Tsukuyomi produced a void illusion space.
It couldn't store physical objects.
But it could absorb souls.
To most shinobi, a "soul-absorbing genjutsu space" would be nothing more than a fancy trick—maybe it could use spiritual power to amplify the illusion's bite.
But to Feiyu, who possessed Warden of Wandering Souls…
It was a weapon—and a cultivation chamber.
Because it meant that even inside Tsukuyomi, Feiyu could draw on stored souls as fuel and as teachers.
Yes.
Using Tsukuyomi to train.
In Feiyu's eyes, that was the best possible use.
And the reason was simple:
Feiyu's Sharingan wasn't a brittle "trauma bloom" like most Mangekyō awakenings.
His eyes had evolved through bloodline refinement—foundation stable.
So he didn't have the usual "once the eye power is spent, it never returns" curse.
On top of that, he'd awakened part of a Sage Body's qualities—his recovery speed was ridiculous.
Inside Tsukuyomi, he could turn one day into one year.
Train.
Refine.
Repeat.
Most souls no longer offered him flashy new jutsu—he was already past that stage.
But at the most fundamental level—chakra nature transformation and chakra shape transformation—every shinobi had their own "emphasis," their own angles and instincts.
Absorb the best of them.
Patch the weak points.
Forge a foundation that could support anything.
Before, Feiyu had used souls to polish his base with excellent results—but time had been too short. He hadn't truly surpassed the boundary of "top-tier shinobi."
Now?
With a one-day-equals-one-year illusion chamber…
Feiyu was certain his mastery of all seven chakra attributes—shape and nature—would soon reach an absurd level.
Maybe, in the end, even a basic Great Fireball could be pushed to the destructive level of an S-rank technique.
And those transformations weren't just "nice to have."
They were the foundation for bloodline-limit style fusion techniques.
In theory, if he mastered every shape and nature variation of an attribute…
Even something like Truth-Seeking Orbs and Kekkei Mōra-style fusion would become "possible" in the long run.
Feiyu tested his new power briefly, then trained once inside the Tsukuyomi void-space to confirm the idea was workable.
When he opened his eyes again, the three tomoe finally stopped spinning.
His chakra presence had dropped dramatically—stretching Tsukuyomi into a full year had devoured an ocean of chakra.
But Feiyu looked… delighted.
He raised one hand.
Five fingers.
And on each fingertip, chakra gathered—then transformed:
A tiny spiral of wind.
A bead of water.
A grainy yellow pebble of earth.
A flicker of lightning.
A trembling candle-flame of fire.
"Fast," Feiyu murmured, almost satisfied. "Way too fast…"
Then his smile thinned.
"At this rate… the souls I have on hand won't be enough."
One training session.
That was all it took for him to squeeze the knowledge out of over a hundred souls, and his nature and shape transformation surged forward like a flood.
Before, even a full year of training only produced results like this.
But the price was obvious.
The thousand-plus souls that could've supported ten years of steady cultivation…
Now?
They'd only last him ten days.
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