Orochimaru, meanwhile, was even more shocked by Ryusei's change than Tsunade was.
She had seen the gradual growth.
He hadn't seen Ryusei for over half a year.
And now?
Ryusei looked like he could overpower ten Tsunades at once.
Even Orochimaru, who had just undergone his own evolution, felt the gap immediately.
He wasn't even close.
His eyes narrowed, sensing deeper.
The limits of the human body… no, the limits of what a human should be able to reach…
Ryusei had already surpassed them.
Orochimaru could feel it clearly.
His own refined perception, sharpened by Ryuuchi Cave training, made it unavoidable.
Only a few days earlier, Orochimaru had received another "gift" from the White Snake Sage—the key to the next stage of snake sage evolution, granted to him as their chosen vessel.
And with his current body now biologically fourteen, the vessel had finally stabilized.
He should've felt invincible.
Instead, he felt Ryusei could still take him out without struggling.
The stronger one becomes, the better they can hide their aura.
But after a certain level, people like Orochimaru can see it anyway.
And what he saw inside Ryusei now was monstrous.
He remembered every time they cooperated and traded in the past.
How Ryusei had shifted the entire trajectory of his life.
How his current vessel wouldn't even exist without that influence.
A world-changing prodigy had reasons for acting against Konoha at this time.
That much was obvious.
And if things went wrong, Orochimaru had his own escape route.
He could be reverse-summoned to Ryuuchi Cave instantly.
That alone gave him the confidence to take this risk.
But more than that, he wasn't blind.
Ryusei had already hinted that Konoha wasn't acting alone.
That there was a "higher being" supporting them from the shadows.
It explained everything.
Tobirama's unnatural moves and growth after his rebirth, the innovations, the sudden leap in Konoha's coordination and pressure.
There was only one figure in history who could match that implication.
Even Orochimaru felt a quick, sharp pulse in his chest when he realized it.
There were things he still didn't know.
Ryusei did.
And for the first time in a long time, Orochimaru felt genuine curiosity sharpen into something close to fear.
He wanted answers.
And now, perhaps, he would finally hear them.
Orochimaru, however, also already knew one thing with absolute certainty.
Because of his recent total disobedience during the war, his shadow actions, independent moves, secret experiments, and the way he handled the northeastern front, the entire time, Hiruzen would never forgive him.
But that wasn't the real threat.
Tobirama was.
The Second Hokage, revived and strengthened into something far more dangerous than he had been in life, was now the de facto ruler of Konoha.
And Orochimaru could feel it clearly: Tobirama would never let him go either, not even as a missing-nin.
If Orochimaru tried to flee or defect, they would hunt him down relentlessly.
They already saw him as an enemy.
Not quite with the same hatred they reserved for Ryusei—but close, he had a hunch for some reason.
Even the usually detached White Snake Sage had hinted at such a threat, warning him outright.
And that only reinforced what Ryusei had already told him—who the true, unseen backer of this new "Konoha 2.0" really was.
So, from a practical standpoint, it made perfect sense to stand with Ryusei if he clashed with them really next.
If they removed them first, Orochimaru could finally breathe freely.
Finally live without being watched, judged, or restricted by Konoha's leadership.
And, beneath all that, there was something else.
A small, lingering desire that still remained.
The Hokage seat.
Ryusei had already yielded that position to him a long time ago, clearly uninterested.
Ryusei only cared about perfecting his body and pushing his power upward.
He never once spoke about ruling.
Orochimaru knew that.
However, Orochimaru himself also didn't need the seat for glory; his real goal was evolution, ascending toward the highest stages possible in this universe.
But having the Hokage's authority would open the doors to limitless resources, unrestricted research, and the freedom to experiment without being treated like a criminal.
He still knew that.
His research might finally accelerate again.
After all, he didn't have those sudden, limitless flashes of insight that Ryusei seemed to produce effortlessly.
Orochimaru needed time, and the Hokage seat preferably.
And, frankly, he had pride.
He refused to watch Minato sit there like a golden idol while Edo Tensei revenants ran the village in the background.
Orochimaru had envisioned himself as Hokage for years.
To see someone else sitting there—someone inferior—was intolerable.
Besides, what did it matter what the villagers or other shinobi thought?
They praised Minato, idolized him, but in the end, only force would decide the future.
And force was something Orochimaru respected deeply.
This was why he never bothered building political capital after stabilizing the Kumo front.
He didn't care about medals, popularity, or public praise.
Once he had what he wanted from Ryusei and Tsunade at that time, allowing him to focus on what truly mattered, he shut himself away, experimented, perfected, and then grew his new vessel and prepared for the day he could finally stand above everyone.
Right now, they probably saw him as just another "competent commander."
Not even in the same stratosphere as the "Yellow Flash," their beloved hero.
Who cared?
If Orochimaru and Ryusei won, those same people would be kneeling.
He let out a soft breath, golden eyes glinting, and gave his answer to Ryusei at last.
"I accept," he said. "If we succeed, I'll take the Hokage seat… and make this world a far more interesting place."
It was exactly the kind of declaration Orochimaru would make.
Then he added, almost casually, "And it seems the timing is perfect. I've finished mastering the new power I told you about."
That was one of the reasons they had waited several days before replying to Konoha's summons and nominated Orochimaru also from a distance, not just to test the water first.
Orochimaru had needed time to complete the true final stage of his snake transformation; he had only recently heard about it from the White Snake Sage.
Ryusei, in his own way, had been adjusting something as well, fine-tuning his body and power for what was coming and coordinating his tight-knit group of helpers as well, which Orochimaru knew about.
Both of them had evolved again.
And now they were ready.
The upcoming clash would decide everything.
Who would sit at the top of the world forever.
And they had chosen the battlefield.
Fugaku, meanwhile, felt the deepest relief out of all of them when Ryusei and Orochimaru finally agreed.
He might have been the weakest among the four gathered here, but he was also the most grateful that they were about to walk into such a dangerous confrontation.
Why?
Because for the past few days, he had lost all contact with the Uchiha inside the village.
It was obvious what that meant.
After all, both Orochimaru and Ryusei were similar in one important way:They were solitary figures with no one inside Konoha that Tobirama or Hiruzen could use against them.
Orochimaru had no attachments left in the village.
Not a single person they could threaten or leverage.
And Ryusei was the same.
Anyone who mattered to him—like Kiyomi—had already left Konoha long ago and now lived with him in this hideout.
There was nothing the village could hold hostage.
Unlike the Uchiha clan, whose entire family, from freshly born babies to important elders, were still trapped inside the village, the entire time, vulnerable to whatever Konoha decided.
That difference shaped everything.
Konoha planned to use the situation to pull him—and by extension, Ryusei's entire web of allies—back into the village for a trap.
This was why Fugaku had been urging them to move quickly during the last few days.
In his mind, it was expected.
They were "allies," after all, and the Uchiha clan was now in this predicament because of that relationship.
Even though most of the clan's elite forces were with him here, as the troops he commanded on the southeastern front, the majority of the Uchiha were still inside Konoha—including the women and children.
And Fugaku had long known Tobirama's attitude toward his clan.
In life.
Before his reincarnation.
And especially now, after returning stronger than ever.
With Konoha reaching its current power, Fugaku understood something very clearly:
If not for Ryusei and Orochimaru, the leadership could annihilate the Uchiha at any moment.
Therefore, he didn't resent them for hesitating earlier.
But he was relieved—truly relieved—that they had finally agreed.
During the earlier letters, since the talks of the war ending and then meetings after gathering near Ryusei's hideout here a few days ago, both Ryusei and Orochimaru had been seemingly waiting on something.
Neither had accepted to make the first move on the village or fight for the position of the Hokage immediately.
Fugaku had watched them calculating, refining, preparing.
But now, seeing Ryusei today, there was no doubt left.
He looked determined. He looked ready.
And his presence alone felt strong enough to crush entire armies.
What disturbed Fugaku most was that he sensed nothing from him now.
A complete void.
Someone so powerful that even a Uchiha patriarch couldn't read the surface of his chakra—
That could only mean one thing.
Ryusei had ascended far beyond normal sensory range, even for high Kage-class shinobi like him.
Fugaku had monitored Ryusei's progress ever since their alliance formed, through Kiyomi, who lived in the hideout with him recently permanently and often updated him.
And the more he heard, the more impossible Ryusei became.
Even recently, from the reports Kiyomi relayed, Fugaku learned that Ryusei's power had reached the point where he could affect the terrain of an entire small country with brute force alone.
It sounded insane to him.
He was the Uchiha patriarch, respected and feared beyond the Konoha now, who awakened the legendary higher dojutsu of his clan.
Yet in front of a teen barely half his age, he felt like an ant.
But he accepted it.
Ryusei was probably the greatest anomaly in shinobi history—a monster even more talented than Madara and Hashirama.
And now, at last, he was on Fugaku's side.
"Good," Fugaku finally said, voice low but firm. "Then we move."
For the first time in days, some of the tension left his shoulders.
He bowed his head slightly—rare for him—and looked between the two of them.
"You don't understand how important this is. My clan has been silent for too long. No messages. No signals. Nothing. That only happens when someone in Konoha wants it to happen."
He straightened, meeting Ryusei's eyes first, then Orochimaru's.
"You two have no ties left for them to exploit. But my people do. I couldn't wait any more."
His voice lowered, almost grateful in a way he rarely allowed himself to show.
"So I'm relieved. Truly. That you both decided. Whatever happens in Konoha… I'll stand with you."
Ryusei responded first, his tone serious but carrying a trace of his usual dry edge.
"There was no other choice," he said. "We're allies. And besides… Kiyomi wouldn't stop pestering me about saving your clan."
Fugaku blinked once at that, unsure whether to be offended or grateful.
Orochimaru also gave his answer next, smiling faintly.
"Well, if we're all in agreement, then let's go shake the village a little," he said lightly.
But when his gaze slid toward Fugaku, something shifted.
A strange black pattern rippled inside his golden, snake-like eyes—just for a heartbeat.
Fugaku stiffened.
A bead of sweat slid down his temple.
"That… is reassuring to hear," he managed politely.
Internally, however, he was unsettled.
'Was that some kind of Sharingan? But how is that possible, and did he just show it on purpose? Why…?'
Yet Fugaku made no move in response.
Because not only Ryusei—
Even Orochimaru, in his current state, was far beyond what Fugaku could currently reach.
Unlike Ryusei, Orochimaru didn't bother restraining himself.
Especially with that playful little display just now, letting a flicker of power and something unnatural show in his eyes.
As if that wasn't enough, the man, who was originally older than him, was speaking casually from inside a fourteen-year-old body as if it was perfectly normal.
Fugaku had seen it before, but it still unsettled him every time.
For a moment, he truly felt like a shrimp among predators.
Orochimaru's smirk only deepened, meanwhile, offering no explanation.
He clearly enjoyed the reaction.
Orochimaru was pleased with himself.
Pressuring a prestigious Uchiha like Fugaku—someone from a clan he once had to look up to—felt satisfying.
A reminder that intellect and obsession could surpass even the strongest bloodlines.
But when his eyes shifted to Ryusei, that confidence thinned.
Yet then he remembered that Ryusei wasn't strong and so above him now due to the bloodline alone.
That accounted for barely ten percent in his opinion.
The real reason was simple and irritating.
Ryusei was, thus far, proven to be an even greater genius than Orochimaru himself.
Meanwhile, Ryusei himself said nothing externally.
He simply watched the exchange in silence, knowing exactly what Fugaku didn't:
Orochimaru had those eyes because Ryusei had arranged it.
Ryusei had killed those two arrogant Uchiha brothers long ago, taken their Sharingan, and traded them for something Orochimaru could provide in return.
In the shinobi world, there were no eternal allies—only aligned interests.
But if they won this battle… Fugaku's clan would gain far more than what had ever been lost.
Even those stolen eyes would be a minor footnote compared to what awaited the Uchiha afterward if they won and got the entire village in a chokehold.