"Boom!"
A violent explosion shook the mountaintop as Hyūga Shigeo blasted apart hundreds of corpses into dust.
High above, the so-called Divine Lord—his body twisted into the full cursed-seal state—dove down, dodging Itachi's taijutsu strikes.
He was the same kind of being as Jūgo: a man born able to absorb natural energy.
That gift had made him the perfect vessel for the Divine Guardian Sect's ambitions, trained from youth to become their present generation's leader.
Every cursed seal used by Yūmeiden and Henjinden's human puppets came from his blood.
His eyes could link with puppet nerves through chakra threads; only puppets personally made by their sect possessed those eerie green eyes.
Weaker believers lacked that power.
From the notebook's notes, Shigeo had confirmed the Divine Guardian Sect had no ties to Orochimaru, though their cursed-seal systems bore uncanny similarities.
The man charged.
Shigeo sidestepped, countering, but before he could strike back, a blur shot toward them—a gray-haired youth with manic eyes and a crimson triple-bladed scythe.
He moved recklessly, laughing with wild delight.
The Divine Lord, claws gleaming silver in the moonlight, slashed toward him.
The youth didn't even dodge—his scythe carved a deep wound across the Divine Lord's abdomen, blood spraying.
Both were the kind who feared neither pain nor death.
The Divine Lord, unfazed by the injury, lunged at Shigeo again.
Shigeo answered with Katon (Fire Release), blasting him away.
Then his gaze caught the scythe-wielding youth, a spark of recognition flashing.
That gray-haired boy—he finally remembered—was Hidan of the Jashin Cult.
Indeed, Hidan grinned madly, licking the blood from his scythe.
The ritual began: Jujutsu: Shiji Hyōketsu ("Cursed Technique: Death Possession Blood").
Other Jashin followers encircled him at once, guarding their priest as he drew the ritual symbol.
Shigeo leapt several times and landed beside Itachi.
"All set. This should end soon, right?"
Itachi frowned.
The Divine Lord, still monstrous and full of rage, had just torn through two cultists and was charging again—his eyes locked solely on Shigeo.
Yet Shigeo's expression was calm.
He wanted to watch the curse unfold.
Below, Hidan's body turned pale as bone markings crawled over his skin.
Blood trickled to the ground as he drew his ritual circle: a triangle within a circle—the Jashinists' sacred symbol.
"It's starting," Shigeo said lightly, dodging another berserk strike while glancing down.
Itachi's Sharingan followed the strange boy, occasionally cutting down nearby enemies.
The Henjinden lord was already dead; now only this abomination of a leader remained.
Hidan laughed and muttered his scripture, utterly indifferent to the battlefield around him.
"What is he doing?" Itachi asked quietly.
"Chanting some kind of prayer, I guess," Shigeo replied, still deflecting blows.
The Divine Lord's power was immense—his attacks crushing, his speed frightening, and his ability to fly made him a difficult opponent.
Shigeo wasn't even fighting seriously, so for a moment he was pushed back a few steps.
"Focus," Itachi said, eyes still on Hidan.
Far away, half-hidden behind an ancient tree, two shapes observed: Black Zetsu and White Zetsu.
"They're together again?" White Zetsu rasped. "On the last mission too. Is Itachi betraying Akatsuki?"
Black Zetsu's tone was cold and dismissive. "And if he is—what then?"
White Zetsu fell silent. Akatsuki couldn't afford to lose either man yet.
Until their plans were complete, both would be left alone.
"Let him live for now," White Zetsu murmured, shifting his gaze back to the center of the chaos.
On the battlefield, Shigeo grew impatient.
He punched the Divine Lord square in the face—the green eyes flashing cold light under the moon.
Annoying.
The man screamed, stumbling backward, clutching his face.
When he looked up again—Shigeo and Itachi were gone.
"Where are they?!" he shouted, voice echoing through the smoke and flame.
Unlike Jūgo, even in his cursed form he retained some rationality, enough to feel fear.
High above, under the full moon, Shigeo floated in the night sky on a mass of magnetic sand.
Itachi stood beside him, both silently watching the inferno below—watching Hidan.
"What is he doing now?" Itachi asked again, his tone edged with unease.
To make the stoic Uchiha speak twice meant the sight was truly strange.
Hidan suddenly ended his muttering and roared, "Now then—you're gonna feel this! Hahaha!"
He drew a long, pitch-black spear and—without hesitation—stabbed it straight through his own body.
Shk!
Blood sprayed.
Itachi's eyes widened.
Even the Zetsu pair froze in disbelief.
Was he… killing himself?
The ethereal female chant still echoed across the island, the poisonous black mists now swept away by the wind.
Only the sound of flowing blood remained, chilling in its serenity.
With the deaths of Yūmeiden and Henjinden, all the reanimated corpses had lost control.
Shigeo's earlier Bakuton (Explosion Release) had shredded the rest—leaving only rotting flesh and fire.
The ghostly green flames mixed with red inferno, turning the island into a vision of hell.
Jashin or Divine Lord—it was all the same. Both fought for self-interest.
Living or dead, in the end, all would become corpses.
As Hidan's spear pierced his own gut, high above on the dais the monstrous Divine Lord suddenly coughed blood—
his abdomen splitting open in the same wound.
(End of Chapter)
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