Chapter 60: The Serpent's Bargain
Kuroiwa Tatsuji, the Leader of Yugakure, could only stare in stunned disbelief. The kunai he had thrown with such finality had passed straight through Kagenori's form as if it were mist. The boy's body flickered and solidified in a different spot entirely, his ninjato still held ready, his breathing still labored, but his Sharingan glowing with a faint, triumphant light.
All the signs pointed to one, inescapable truth.
"An illusion…?" Kuroiwa whispered, his voice hollow. His mind raced, scrambling for the moment of deception. It had to have been during the cataclysm of the Seventh Form, when the world dissolved into lightning and dust. He remembered the boy's eyes—those spinning crimson tomoe—locking with his own in that split second of chaos. "I see… It was then. I was caught in a Sharingan genjutsu."
Kagenori gave a slow, weary nod, his chest still heaving. "That's right. It seems you've realized it. I told you I couldn't kill you. Naturally, I had to have a contingency plan." A faint, almost apologetic smile touched his lips. "To be honest, I'm not fond of genjutsu. I prefer a direct confrontation. This is the first time I've used an ocular illusion on someone."
Kuroiwa's face darkened with a mix of shame and fury. "It's… impressive," he admitted grudgingly. "If it weren't for your depleted chakra, weakening the illusion's potency, an elite jonin like me would have been completely at your mercy. In theory, only disrupting one's own chakra flow can break an ocular hypnosis… but there is always another way."
With a grimace of resolve, a kunai appeared in his hand. He drove it deep into his own thigh, the sharp, immediate pain lancing through the phantom sensations of the genjutsu. The world seemed to snap back into sharper focus. He yanked the blade out, his eyes, now clear and cold, fixed on Kagenori. "Now… you have no more tricks left, do you?"
But Kagenori's smile only grew wider, a stark contrast to his exhausted frame. "Helpless? It's you who has run out of options."
A voice, smooth as silk and cold as ice, spoke from directly behind Kuroiwa. "Kuroiwa Tatsuji. You have already lost to my disciple."
The Village Head froze. He didn't need to turn around. The presence was unmistakable, a chilling pressure that sucked the warmth from the air. It was Orochimaru. With the Sannin here, any thought of resistance was extinguished. He let out a heavy, defeated sigh, his shoulders slumping.
"The foundation of a great ninja village is truly profound," Kuroiwa murmured, his voice thick with bitter acceptance. "The Sannin of Konoha, the White Fang… masters of bloodlines and secret techniques… and now, even your new saplings have grown to such a terrifying height." He glanced back at Kagenori. "Since you didn't kill me, it seems the boy wasn't lying. I am necessary for your plan. But I cannot openly aid you. A small village like ours… we have no voice in the affairs of giants."
Orochimaru's expression was one of detached amusement. "I do not require you to do anything that would compromise your position. Simply follow my instructions, and the flames of war between Konoha and Kumo will not scorch your precious Yugakure."
A flicker of desperate hope ignited in Kuroiwa's eyes. "What must Yugakure do?"
"We will be retreating shortly," Orochimaru stated calmly. "Once we are gone, you will formally request that the Cloud ninja withdraw from your village. You will declare Yugakure's return to neutrality."
Kuroiwa frowned. "I told you, we have no leverage! The Cloud ninja are already entrenched here. It will be difficult to force them out."
Orochimaru's voice dropped, becoming lethally soft. "We, Konoha, attacked specifically because the Cloud ninja are here. Your village was merely… collateral damage. That reason should be more than sufficient to justify their expulsion, should it not? Make it clear. If a single Cloud ninja remains in Yugakure, the Konoha forces will return. And we will not be so… surgical next time."
Understanding dawned on Kuroiwa's face, followed by a wave of fresh grief and anger. He finally saw the full shape of the trap. Konoha's primary target hadn't been the Cloud ninja alone; it had been Yugakure's allegiance itself. They had been made an example of. The destruction, the deaths—they were all a message to every minor village considering siding with Kumo: Konoha can reach you, even here.
Orochimaru watched the realization settle and didn't bother to correct him. The man's interpretation served his purpose perfectly. For the survival of his village, Kuroiwa would have no choice. He would play his part.
Turning his head slightly, Orochimaru spoke to the small messenger toad on his shoulder. "Inform all units. Rally at the Yugakure gate. The objective is complete. Prepare for withdrawal."
In the distance, Minato Namikaze watched the scene unfold, his expression a complex tapestry of relief, frustration, and unresolved conflict. He turned away, heading to support other Konoha ninja, the image of Kagenori's cunning victory burning in his mind.
Orochimaru walked over to where Kagenori stood trembling. He extended a pale hand.
Kagenori gripped it, using the leverage to steady himself. "Can you walk?" Orochimaru asked, his golden eyes analytically scanning his disciple's condition.
Kagenori shook his head, his face pale. "My body is severely overdrawn. It's… difficult to move."
To his surprise, Orochimaru turned and knelt, presenting his back. "Get on. I will carry you."
For a moment, Kagenori was too stunned to move. This was a gesture of care he had never expected from the cold, calculating Sannin. But he was in no position to refuse. He simply nodded and climbed onto Orochimaru's back, his muscles screaming in protest.
Orochimaru stood, adjusting to the weight with effortless grace, and began walking toward the village exit. "You performed exceptionally well in this operation," he stated, his voice a low murmur. "Especially against Kuroiwa. While he is on the weaker end of the elite jonin spectrum, owing to Yugakure's limited resources, he is a seasoned veteran. Had your chakra not been exhausted, you might have secured a clean victory. But this is more than adequate. The battlefield is the finest crucible for strength. Every fight is a fight for survival. For your first major engagement, your progress is remarkable."
"Thank you, Sensei," Kagenori replied, his voice muffled slightly by fatigue. "This Kuroiwa… he is one of the weaker elite jonin, then?"
"Precisely," Orochimaru confirmed. "The village lacks foundational knowledge. He is incomparable to elite jonin like myself or Jiraiya. At our level, the disparity often lies in unique abilities—secret techniques, kinjutsu, powerful bloodlines. Kuroiwa knows only the common ninjutsu any skilled shinobi might learn. They are predictable. Easy to counter. That is why you could fight him on equal footing."
Kagenori let out a long, tired sigh. "I understand. Still, his combat experience was formidable. I was certain my Fire Thunder God could kill a standard jonin. I didn't anticipate he would think to use his own jutsu to propel himself to safety."
Orochimaru's tone became a sharp, serious warning. "Remember this, Kagenori. In the ninja world, no one who reaches this level is simple. Underestimate no one. Approach every battle, every opponent, with the utmost caution. Complacency is a quicker death than any blade."
The weight of the lesson settled on Kagenori more heavily than his own exhaustion. "Yes, Sensei," he said, his voice firm with newfound conviction. "I will remember."