The ceremony ended, and the wind fell silent. Dust and gravel settled, forming a barren, sandy plain.
The skies were clear and boundless, with sunlight beating down on the land, and the air shimmered with rising heat.
In the distance, two black specks bobbed up and down through the thermal haze—approaching fast.
Boom!
A tall, muscular figure landed heavily, carving twin craters in the sand with his feet. Behind him, Kazekage Rasa landed more steadily, carrying the Queen and her daughter in his arms.
Their eyes first fell upon a charred, barely human-shaped corpse. Then, they looked at the figure standing near it.
Djinn could see that Orochimaru wasn't truly dead. Profound changes were still occurring within the body—subtle and ongoing. But to a ninja's eyes, even someone like Jiraiya in Sage Mode, there were no visible signs of life.
"No way… Is Orochimaru really…"
Rasa still couldn't believe it.
The destruction in Loulan, the overwhelming energy just moments ago—it all pointed to an incredibly dangerous ritual. But this was Orochimaru, after all.
He recalled the terrifying form he'd seen swirling within the desert storm. Somewhere in his heart, Rasa wanted to believe Orochimaru still had something up his sleeve.
Jiraiya, however, felt a deep chill. He didn't know the details of the ritual, but he understood one thing clearly: Orochimaru had put everything on the line. There was no plan B.
"Minato's gone. And now… Orochimaru…"
The thought tightened every nerve in his body. He had seen too many comrades fall—too many friends buried on the battlefield. Loss was a part of being a ninja.
The raw pain from Minato and Kushina's deaths had long faded. But the grief, the echo of each parting, had sunk deep into his bones. And now, another friend—
Crack…
A soft, splitting sound interrupted his thoughts. Like tearing silk, a white, delicate hand emerged from the charred remains, breaking through the brittle outer layer.
Bathed in sunlight, the hand shimmered like translucent jade.
Jiraiya's instincts flared. He felt it instantly—life. Strong, vibrant life.
The sorrow welling up in his chest froze in place, then surged into stunned relief. His face twisted strangely as joy battled grief.
Before anyone could react, the figure once thought dead began to move. The charred flesh cracked away in chunks, falling like brittle bark, revealing smooth, healthy skin beneath—rosy and pale as polished jade.
Orochimaru slowly stood, glancing down at his reborn body. A satisfied smile touched his lips.
The operation had deviated wildly from plan—far from perfect. But it had succeeded.
While Kaguya Otsutsuki consumed the full Chakra Fruit and became the origin of chakra itself, Orochimaru had planted a seed—a bloodline-level seed that could, in time, grow to rival that power.
Separating from the white snake cost him 90% of his flesh. It didn't matter; he never valued bulk. But using the "Breath of the Sun" to force the final stage of transformation had nearly consumed him.
The fire had scorched both body and soul. Surviving it had required no small amount of luck.
"A white snake—symbol of luck and rebirth…"
Orochimaru licked his lips and laughed quietly.
This result wasn't ideal, but it was enough. With time and nourishment, the seed would grow into a towering tree.
Even the White Snake Sage or the Slug Sage would envy this result—perhaps even trade centuries of cultivation for it.
"Now, I finally have the qualifications… to speak with them."
His golden eyes gleamed with calculation, but a sudden gasp interrupted his thoughts.
Sara, Queen's daughter, had locked eyes with him—and turned bright red. She clutched her hands to her face and spun away.
Beside her, Queen's cheeks flushed as well. Though married and no stranger to a man's body, the one standing before her—young, radiant, and strangely beautiful—made her heart flutter.
Is it because I know that body holds a mature soul?
She turned her face quickly, just like her daughter.
"…Ah."
Only now did Orochimaru realize he wasn't wearing anything.
When his body was part-serpent, that was one thing—cultural and biological differences made nudity less awkward. But now, fully human again, the situation was… indecent.
He looked at Jiraiya. "Give me something to wear."
"…You—what the hell did you do, get cosmetic surgery?" Jiraiya muttered as he rummaged through a scroll for clothes. His face was sour.
Orochimaru had always been considered handsome. It was one of Jiraiya's long-standing complaints—especially since his blood-soaked aura ruined most of that charm.
But now, reborn, with his aura gone and that elegance intact…
"A face that makes girls blush just by smiling… That only happens in romance novels."
Jiraiya grumbled, casting a glare toward Sara, who gave him one right back.
The air around them grew… strange.
But among them, Kazekage Rasa remained sober, watching Orochimaru closely.
How strong is he now…?
There was barely any chakra to sense. But the pressure—the vitality radiating off Orochimaru—it was like standing beneath a sleeping Tailed Beast.
But how? The Tailed Beasts' pressure came from their immense chakra.
This body was slim, youthful, and seemingly powerless. And yet…
Just then, Orochimaru looked in his direction.
Rasa lowered his gaze immediately. It wasn't deliberate. It was instinct—unforced submission.
Orochimaru wasn't threatening. He hadn't harmed Sunagakure. On the contrary, he had helped—raising their ninja standards, funding their shortfalls, providing critical research.
He had earned the right to lead.
"If he were truly a god… like Pain was to Rain Village …"
Then, as a ninja, Rasa would still fight to his last breath. But right now? Orochimaru had no malice. Only potential.
"Ah."
Orochimaru smiled faintly, sensing Rasa's mindset.
The seed within him was far from mature. But it belonged to him. Unlike Kaguya, who stole power, this came from within.
Even the Sage of Six Paths might be able to seal him—but not take this from him.
Still, in this chakra-starved world, growing such a seed would be agonizingly slow.
"I'll have to visit a few Holy Lands…"
His eyes turned downward. "But first… let's eat the leftovers."
He opened his mouth. A swirl of wind and cloud answered. After the dragon vein's consciousness had been destroyed, the remaining terrestrial energy surged into his body.
"…"
Jiraiya's eyes widened.
He had seen much. More than most. But only now did the truth hit him:
He's not just strong now—he's unreachable.
"…If he were like this before, maybe… maybe the tragedy in Konoha wouldn't have happened…"
Jiraiya didn't dream of revenge. He dreamed of peace. If Orochimaru could defeat Nagato—maybe even capture him alive—could there still be hope?
…No. Not anymore. Too much blood had been spilled.
Still, he felt no resentment. Only admiration.
He had always known… Orochimaru made this choice willingly.
---
Orochimaru swallowed the land's energy and closed his mouth. In a few months, the oasis would wither and die. He knew this.
But in the end, he was only quenching his thirst.
"This won't last long…"
His eyes turned upward toward the sun.
He had survived the "Breath of the Sun"—barely. But he couldn't survive it again.
Then, the Djinn's voice echoed in his mind, pointing west.
There, too, something had been reborn.
'You can look forward to it,' Orochimaru thought.' Let it grow. For now, I'll dig what little water I can from this dry well.'
He turned to the others. "It's over. Let's go home."
He knew the creature that had fled was extraordinary. But it still needed time to grow.
As for Djinn—he simply wanted to watch the show unfold.
---
Mount Myoboku.
In the grandest hall of the sacred mountain, the Great Toad Sage awoke from a nightmare, sweat soaking his back.
The dream still burned in his mind. He quickly summoned his attendants.
Not long after, Fukasaku and Shima arrived.
"What's so urgent?" Shima grumbled. "I was in the middle of cooking!"
"…Prophecy," the Great Toad said slowly. "… I dreamed again…"
"Again? It's just a dream," Shima scolded. "Since Jiraiya left, your predictions haven't meant much."
"No. Something's changed," the Great Toad said grimly. "A variable I can't identify… but it has already begun to affect Mount Myoboku."
Fukasaku tensed. "What did you see?"
"…A great shadow. Approaching Mount Myoboku."
The old sage paused. "We toads cannot fight it. Go to Konoha. Ask them for help. If not…"
"…Mount Myoboku may cease to exist."
His gaze turned distant.
"At noon… in one month. That's when it comes back."
And with that, the Great Toad Sage closed his eyes, returning to the dream.
_____________________
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