Bzzzt-!
A beam of white light far more condensed and radiant than before erupted instantly from Miroku's body, piercing through the fragile barrier and enveloping the convulsing, chaotic figure with precision!
Within the light, countless ancient golden seals swirled, emanating a sacred and overwhelming sealing power!
At almost the exact same moment Miroku struck-
"Adamantine Sealing Chains!"
Menma shouted, raising his right hand!
The space behind him twisted violently as nine enormous, blinding golden-red Chakra Chains shot forth like furious dragons tearing through the void. With the power to pierce all illusions and suppress all evil, they slammed forward!
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
The chains pierced with perfect accuracy through the eight snake heads and Moryo's core, as well as its very essence!
The body composed of pure dark Chakra let out a shriek so agonizing it seemed to rend the soul under the power of the Adamantine Sealing Chains!
The dark-purple Chakra boiled and scattered violently, as if encountering its natural enemy!
The nine golden-red chains coiled and constricted like unbreakable shackles, forcibly compressing and restraining the massive, thrashing Moryo!
"Seal!" Miroku poured the last of her Priestess Power into her hands, slamming the final hand seal together!
The brilliant white light and the golden-red chains intertwined, forming a massive, rotating sealing array!
At the center of the array, the eight grotesque snake heads let out one final resentful howl, filled with endless hatred, before the entire dark-purple Chakra mass was dragged, compressed, and ultimately transformed into a distorted stream of black-purple light… sucked into the core of the sealing array!
With a flash, the array rapidly shrank, finally condensing into a palm-sized, black-purple jar covered in intricate sealing patterns.
It fell onto the bloodstained stone pavement in front of the shrine with a clang.
The once deafening battlefield plunged into dead silence.
Only the wind remained, howling mournfully through the blood-soaked shrine.
The gruesome aftermath, dried corpses strewn everywhere, shattered ice crystals, charred marks from flames, and the quietly resting sealing jar, bore silent witness to the brutality that had just unfolded.
Miroku could no longer hold on. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed against the shrine's doorframe. Behind her, Shion clung to her tightly, sobbing uncontrollably.
Hikari slowly deactivated her Mangekyo Sharingan, the scarlet fading from her eyes as they returned to their deep, abyss-like black. She glanced at Kimimaro and Haku, as if silently grading their performance in this mission.
Kimimaro retracted the bone blades covering his body without a word, his pale face showing no emotion… only his slightly ragged breathing gave away his exhaustion.
Haku, on the other hand, fell to his knees, gasping for air, his forehead drenched in cold sweat. Maintaining the Ice Mirror Maze and his subsequent attacks had drained nearly all his Chakra.
Menma slowly withdrew the Adamantine Sealing Chains, the golden glow dissipating into the air.
He turned, his white three-eyed fox mask shifting toward the main shrine. The hollow eyeholes swept over the collapsed Miroku and the weeping Shion before finally settling on the black-purple sealing jar at his feet.
In front of the shrine's main hall, the battlefield, which is soaked in blood and ice, remained thick with the stench of blood, charred flesh, and death.
The air did not clear with the end of the battle, but instead, the evening wind stirred it into an even more suffocating miasma.
Twisted, dried corpses littered the ground. Shattered ice crystals reflected the dim moonlight, and scorched scars from flames marred the earth like wounds.
Everything stood as a silent testament to the carnage that had just taken place.
Ashigami, who had been anxiously watching from the outskirts, scrambled frantically across the devastated battlefield the moment the fighting ended. He stumbled to the shrine's tightly shut doors.
"Miroku-sama! Shion-sama!" He cried out in a trembling voice, pushing against the heavy doors with shaking hands.
Inside, Miroku lay slumped on the cold floor, her face as pale as paper, dried blood staining the corner of her lips.
The front of her wide white priestess robes was also smeared with red.
She held Shion tightly in her arms. The little girl's violet eyes were brimming with terror, her tiny body still trembling violently against her mother's chest.
"Miroku-sama, are you alright?" Ashigami hurried forward, carefully supporting Miroku's weakened body as she struggled to stand.
Leaning on Ashigami, Miroku steadied herself, but her gaze drifted past him, settling on the moonlit clearing outside, which is now stained with blood.
There, the figure in dark red stood silently, his white three-eyed fox mask turned toward the shrine. The hollow eyeholes seemed to pierce through the shadows of the doorway.
"You-" Miroku's voice was frail but clear, carrying a hint of pleading.
"You may call me... Shura." Menma's figure stepped soundlessly into the hall.
The air inside was thick with the faint scent of blood and the muffled sobs of the little girl.
Menma stood casually near the doorway, half-shrouded in shadow. Moonlight streaming through the high windows illuminated only the lower edge of his dark-red robes and the sharp contours of his cold mask.
He didn't speak, merely watching as Miroku, who is supported by Ashigami, staggered toward the low table at the center of the hall and sat down.
Ashigami quickly retrieved the black-purple sealing jar from outside and placed it carefully on the table.
The jar was unnaturally warm to the touch, as if the evil sealed within still writhed in defiance.
Miroku cradled the jar gently in her arms, as if holding a sleeping baby, or as if holding a bomb that could explode at any time.
Shion clung to her side, tiny hands gripping her mother's sleeve tightly. Though her violet eyes still shimmered with tears, they couldn't help but flicker with curiosity toward the masked stranger standing just steps away.
…
Outside, beneath the cold moonlight, Hikari stood with her back to the shrine's entrance.
Her high-collared dark-blue Uchiha attire fluttered slightly in the night breeze as she vigilantly scanned every shadowed corner of the shrine grounds for hidden threats.
Not far away, Kimimaro leaned against a broken stone pillar, eyes closed in silent meditation. His expression was unreadable, his chest rising and falling faintly.
Haku sat on a relatively clean stone step, hugging his knees as he caught his breath, his face still pale.
Clearly, the battle had pushed them to their limits… after all, they had faced six enemies with Jonin-level strength.
However, Yomi and his men had only attained that power by borrowing the evil Chakra, making them weaker than true Jonin who had honed their abilities through training.
Hikari and the others stood like silent sentinels, separating the bloody aftermath outside from the tense conversation within, quietly waiting for the reinforcements from the Land of Stars to arrive.
…
Inside the hall, the air was thick and heavy, broken only by Shion's occasional sniffles and the soft crackling of candle flames.
"What is it, really?" Menma's voice finally shattered the silence, like a stone dropped into still water.
His gaze remained fixed on the ominous jar resting on the table.
Miroku's fingers tightened slightly around the jar, her knuckles whitening.
She took a deep breath, a motion that tugged at her internal injuries, making her wince in pain. Ashigami tensed, ready to step in, but she stopped him with a glance.
"It is called... Moryo." Miroku's voice was soft, laced with exhaustion.
"The world believes it to be an ancient demon, a calamity descended from another world." She shook her head slowly, her eyes lowering to the swirling seals on the jar, as if staring into a nightmare that had haunted her clan for generations.
"But it's not actually not an entity from outside."
She raised her head, and her purple eyes, which is capable of foreseeing the future, were now filled with sorrow as she stared at the two unfathomable depths beneath the mask.
"It is the malice born from human hearts… the dark thoughts festering over generations in war, oppression, fear, and greed. Like a polluted river, it flows through this land, gathering strength until it stirs the violent natural energy, molding it into this... monstrous form."
Miroku's voice carried the weight of destiny as it echoed through the empty hall: "To restrain it… that is the mission of our Priestess Lineage."
She gently stroked the warm jar, "We are the vessels, the dams. We use our pure Priestess Power and our very lives to contain, to divert, to seal away this filth and hatred… born from human hearts and amplified endlessly by nature energy."
"We... are the other side of this darkness. The chains that coexist with it, yet must bind it."
She paused briefly, as if recalling something.
A bitter smile appeared on her pale lips, "That is why it said... we are one. As long as the darkness in human hearts persists, the source of Moryo will never dry up. Sealing it once is merely plugging a hole in the flood."
"So long as suffering, injustice, endless desire, and hatred exist in this world... it will eventually return."
"The fate of the Priestess Clan is to pass down this duty through generations, using our lives to fill this bottomless abyss dug by human hearts."
Shion listened, half-understanding, her small face a mix of confusion and fear. She clung tighter to Miroku's arm and asked timidly, "Mother… why did the bad thing come from our hearts?"
Miroku didn't answer her daughter's innocent question. Instead, she held her closer and turned her gaze back to Menma, her eyes carrying a near-desperate inquiry, "Shura-sama... the Land of Stars you founded claims it will end war and oppression. Perhaps... this is the only chance to sever this endless cycle of darkness? If human hearts can find peace, Moryo will lose its source of power."
Menma remained silent.
The white mask cast shifting shadows in the flickering candlelight, completely hiding all expression.
Menma made no promise, no reply to Miroku's question. His gaze stayed fixed on the jar sealing endless hatred.
By now, he was certain that the power the priestess wielded was natural energy, and the malice of human hearts had birthed this demonic entity. Even sealing it was only temporary.
Just like in the original Naruto Movie, it would break free a decade later. Even without Yomi, someone else, another desperate soul, would take his place.
The hall was left with only the uneasy crackling of candle flames and the mournful howl of the night wind through the shrine's ruins.
"She possesses even greater power than you. Why seal it away?" Menma's gaze shifted to little Shion behind Miroku.
Through his Mind's eye of the Kagura, he could sense the vast energy within her… suppressed by the bell-shaped brooch pinned to her chest.
Miroku stiffened slightly at his words. She looked down at her daughter, holding her tightly as if drawing in her last warmth.
"I just... wanted her to be an ordinary girl. To grow up safe and happy."
As her mother, how could Miroku not know of the immense power within Shion?
However, the fate of the Priestess Clan filled her with guilt, and earlier, she was been prepared to sacrifice her own life to seal Moryo.