"Orochimaru, your ambition ends here."
As Hiruzen Sarutobi spoke, the Shinigami behind him moved. With a slow, dreadful inevitability, its free hand drew the blade clenched between its teeth.
Sensing disaster, Orochimaru's face tightened, panic twisting his voice.
"No! My ambition will never end!"
He wrenched desperately at his own soul, trying to pull it back. But it was already far too late.
Hiruzen's expression was calm, almost serene, as the Shinigami raised its ghostly blade. His voice rang out like a verdict:
"Orochimaru, you wallow in jutsu, squander their meaning. The only punishment worthy of you is this—I'll take every jutsu you've ever mastered with me!"
"What—!" Orochimaru's face contorted, his voice shrill with horror. "Stop!"
"Seal!"
At Hiruzen's command, the Shinigami's blade fell. It carved through Orochimaru's soul as if nothing could resist it, severing the part tied to his arms and sealing it into Hiruzen's body.
"No!"
Orochimaru could only watch in disbelief as both his arms turned black and violet, lifeless and limp.
Barely clinging to life, Hiruzen exhaled and said evenly, "Your hands can no longer form seals. Without seals, you cannot wield ninjutsu. Orochimaru, your dream of destroying Konoha ends here."
"You decrepit old fool! Give me back my hands!" Orochimaru's shriek was wild, a mask ripped away.
But Hiruzen only smiled faintly. "You've grown foolish, Orochimaru. I regret I can't take you with me… but my disciple, we will meet again in the next world."
He turned, eyes straining toward Yui Xuanyue, and for a moment, his expression softened with memories.
"Since childhood, the elders always used you to spur us on—Yui, the man who stood alongside gods. I don't know what you truly seek. But—"
Hiruzen's eyes shone with a brilliance they had never held before. He faced Xuanyue directly, his voice carrying his final conviction:
"Where the leaves dance, the Will of Fire burns eternal! When we of the old generation fall, the next will rise and take up our duty. Whatever your purpose, I believe Konoha's youth will face it without fear!"
His lips curved faintly as he whispered, "Xuanyue… I'll be waiting in the world that belongs to us."
With that, Hiruzen Sarutobi closed his eyes for the last time.
"In the sixtieth year of Konoha, the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, passed away at sixty-nine."
Orochimaru screamed with hatred, grief, and even a touch of bewilderment. Xuanyue did not answer. He only watched silently as Hiruzen's body collapsed, the weight of finality hanging in the air.
Another piece of his past life's youth had slipped away, leaving behind a strange emptiness. What struck him most was that, in his final breath, Hiruzen had entrusted even him with the Will of Fire.
Did the old man mean to warn him not to underestimate today's Konoha? That even without a Hokage, new heroes would rise to carry its flame?
Such rare courage… and for all his flaws, Hiruzen had upheld the mantle of Hokage to the very end.
Xuanyue exhaled softly. Why does everyone insist on treating me like some world-ending devil?
He had simply fought to survive, nothing more. Was that truly such a crime?
And what was with that constant "senpai" nonsense? He wasn't old. In truth, Hiruzen had lived far longer, eaten more salt than Xuanyue had walked roads.
Shaking his head with a sigh, Xuanyue let his gaze pass over Hiruzen's body before turning to Orochimaru, who now sat weakened, both hands useless.
The threat was gone. This was why Xuanyue had waited, letting Hiruzen finish the Reaper Death Seal.
"What's wrong? Not going to vent your rage on your teacher's corpse?" Xuanyue asked lightly, a faint curl to his lips.
"The dead are no longer worth my time," Orochimaru rasped.
Clever as ever, he understood his position perfectly. The bindings of Edo Tensei were gone, and though he watched Xuanyue warily, he knew they no longer had reason to clash.
And truthfully, Orochimaru relished turmoil. If Xuanyue intended to stir up the shinobi world, so much the better.
"Xuanyue… welcome back to the living world. Care to join me?" Orochimaru's invitation came swiftly, his smile thin.
Xuanyue glanced around, then shook his head. "You should worry about how you'll escape first."
His own priority was clear—recover his body. Everything else was secondary. Orochimaru, now Konoha's sworn enemy, was useful as a distraction, nothing more.
Reading the refusal in Xuanyue's eyes, Orochimaru didn't press. Even at his peak, he would not dare take this man lightly—let alone now, with his hands ruined.
"Then until next time," Orochimaru said coldly.
He gave a curt order to the Sound Four. "That's enough. Drop the barrier—we're leaving."
"Yes, Lord Orochimaru!"
The Sound Four clapped their hands, dissolving the Four Violet Flames Formation. Two of them supported their crippled master while the others shielded their retreat.
"Don't let them escape!" ANBU shouted, rushing in to intercept.
Xuanyue didn't spare the fleeing snake a glance. He turned away, leaping toward a quieter corner of the village. His only goal now was to move unseen.
But just as he landed atop another rooftop—
A flash of blinding light cut across the night.
The screech of a thousand birds split the air as a figure hurtled toward him, right hand blazing with violent lightning.
Xuanyue's face was stark in the glow. His brow lifted, his lips curved in a wry smile.
"No one taught you not to brandish cheap tricks before a master?"
The words had barely left his mouth when—
Crack!
Xuanyue's hand snapped out, clamping around the lightning-wreathed wrist with unerring precision.
The attacker froze mid-strike, forced to halt. Slowly, he raised his head.
Beneath the shadow of his black mask, a blood-red Sharingan glared, its sinister glow spinning in his left eye.
(To be continued)