"Heh~ heheheh~"
Orochimaru's internal monologue was a dry, mocking rasp. Do I need your approval? I am not some child!
"Damn it! I must seal this demon at all costs!" Hiruzen Sarutobi's face was a mask of agony, his lower back screaming in protest with every tiny movement. He was painfully aware that he was completely out of his depth with Orochimaru's twisted regeneration.
Seeing his former student's body seamlessly reform, a desperate idea sparked in Hiruzen's mind. He looked at Orochimaru, his voice strained. "Orochimaru… you possess extensive knowledge of the human body. Can you… heal your teacher?"
The pain in his lumbar region was becoming unbearable. Surely, a researcher of Orochimaru's caliber would know some advanced medical ninjutsu, even if he wasn't a dedicated medic-nin.
Orochimaru remained silent for a long moment, his golden, snake-like eyes unreadable. He slowly walked over to the kneeling Hokage. "Sensei… you truly have grown old and frail," he stated, his voice a hoarse whisper laced with a strange mix of pity and contempt.
Yet, his actions spoke differently. His hand, glowing with a faint, flickering green chakra, gently pressed against Hiruzen's lower back. The cool, soothing energy seeped into the bruised muscles and strained spine, offering a temporary reprieve from the fiery pain.
"Ahhh… much better," Hiruzen let out a shuddering sigh of relief as the sharpest edges of the pain receded. He slowly, carefully, pushed himself back to his feet, his joints protesting but functional.
"Don't get the wrong idea, Sarutobi-sensei," Orochimaru hissed, withdrawing his hand. "I am no Tsunade. This is merely a temporary analgesic effect. It will not last."
"It is enough for me to move. Let us deal with this… situation first. Our own matters can be settled afterward," Hiruzen declared, his resolve hardening.
His primary objective had shifted; Orochimaru's rebellion was now a secondary concern to the existential threat posed by a free-roaming Namikaze Raimon.
...
Watching the two former master and student stand together against him, Namikaze Raimon's previously playful expression vanished, replaced by a chilling coldness. He hadn't lifted a finger against Konoha since his unplanned arrival. He hadn't even intended to attack the old Hokage. So why were they so desperate to seal him away? What were they so terrified he would discover?
A dark suspicion crystallized in his mind. They're afraid I'll ask about Minato.
"If you two insist on attacking me again," Raimon's voice cut through the tension, low and dripping with menace, "I won't hesitate to make you perform your own nephrectomies. I'll have you pulling out your own kidneys with your bare hands."
Both Hiruzen and Orochimaru froze instantly, a shared, traumatic memory flashing before their eyes. They had witnessed it on the battlefields of the Third War—brave shinobi from Iwagakure, Kumogakure, and Sunagakure, driven to utter madness by the unending agony, frantically using their own kunai to dig out their own organs, which were now riddled with sharp, crystalline stones.
The sight of a man tearing into his own lower abdomen to remove a thumb-sized stone was something that haunted a person's dreams. They shuddered in unison, the will to fight momentarily extinguished by sheer, primal dread.
"Orochimaru! You go! Your body can regenerate!" Hiruzen urged, trying to push his disciple forward.
"Do you take me for a fool, sensei?" Orochimaru shot back, his voice a nervous hiss. "Regenerating doesn't mean I can forget the pain!"
"Listen to me!" Hiruzen whispered frantically. "Help me subdue him, and I will personally pardon you! I'll tell the Council your defection was a deep-cover mission to investigate the Akatsuki! We can pin all the human experimentation charges on Danzo!"
Hearing his teacher's desperate, morally-bankrupt offer, a small part of Orochimaru's heart, the part that still held a shred of respect for the man he once admired, turned to ash. The Third Hokage he had known was truly gone, replaced by a desperate old man willing to say anything to survive.
...
While the two were conspiring, Namikaze Raimon had renewed his assault on the founding Hokages with terrifying vigor.
"Wind Release · Lightning Release Secret Ultimate Taijutsu Technique! Thousand-Year Fire Dragon Thunderbolt Spiral Drill!!"
A yellow flash. A crackle of lightning. A howl of wind. The dreaded drill, propelled by the Flying Thunder God, was instantly pressed against Hashirama's backside. The Edo Tensei body, for all its immortality, could not withstand the localized, soul-searing devastation. The area of impact instantly turned to dust.
"This kid… has no respect for his elders!" Hashirama's normally benevolent face was now contorted in a mixture of pain and sheer outrage. He realized that if this were his living, Sage Mode-enhanced body, even he would be bedridden for at least a fortnight!
"Brat! Your ninjutsu is utterly despicable!" Hashirama and Tobirama stood back-to-back, both instinctively using their left hands to protect their vulnerable rear areas.
"Brother! No more holding back! We attack together!" Tobirama barked, his own legendary composure shattered. The sheer, undignified humiliation had finally given their wills the strength to fully break from Orochimaru's control. Their movements became fluid, their chakra flowing with their own legendary prowess, not the puppet-master's strings.
"This imperfect body is still insufficient to gather natural energy!" Hashirama grunted in frustration. Orochimaru's current version of the Edo Tensei was flawed, preventing him from accessing his ultimate power: Sage Mode.
Otherwise, if Tobirama could just pin Raimon down for a moment, he could end this with a single, decisive Sage Art: Wood Release: Gate of the Great God. It was a pity. His True Several Thousand Hands would have been more than enough to give this impudent blond a proper, world-ending challenge.
"I've had my fun," Raimon announced, his tone shifting to one of finality. "But two ghosts from the past have overstayed their welcome in the world of the living."
Tobirama glared, incensed. "You speak as if you aren't a dead man yourself!"
"Wind Release · Lightning Release: Thousand-Year Fire Dragon Thunderbolt Spiral Drill… Consecutive Strike!!"
What followed was not a battle; it was a juggle. A massacre of dignity. Namikaze Raimon became a torrent of yellow lightning, flickering across the rooftop forest. The moment the Edo bodies reformed, another drill would find its mark, blasting them apart again in a cycle of endless, soul-deep torment. They couldn't die. They couldn't counterattack. They could only exist to be violated, over and over.
The legendary God of Shinobi and his brilliant brother were being treated like common dungeon goblins, stun-locked in a loop of pure agony.
"Brother… I… I don't want to play anymore," Tobirama whispered, his spirit utterly broken.
As he spoke, a pure white light began to emanate from his Edo Tensei form. The ash and dust comprising his body stopped regenerating and instead began to flake away, revealing the unconscious, sacrificed Chunin within.
"Finally… freedom," Tobirama's soul sighed with profound relief as it ascended, released from the mortal plane and returning to the Pure Land.
"How… how is this possible?!" Orochimaru stammered, his scientific worldview shattering. The immortal, unkillable Edo Tensei… had been bullied into willingly dispersing!
Hashirama wasn't far behind. Even his boundless patience and will had its limits, and a thousand years of spiritual proctological drills was beyond it. He couldn't win. Raimon was also an Edo Tensei with infinite chakra and the Flying Thunder God. It was an utterly unwinnable, profoundly humiliating matchup.
"Well, little monkey," Hashirama's soul said, floating serenely now that he was free from his earthly torment. He looked down at a utterly dumbfounded Hiruzen Sarutobi with a cheerful, closed-eye smile. "It seems our power can only take you this far. We'll leave the rest to you. Do your best! Don't disappoint me!"
"Heh… heheh… Shodai-sama, you certainly have… high expectations of me," Hiruzen managed a weak, utterly defeated laugh. This was a catastrophe. Dealing with Namikaze Raimon by himself? It was like looking for a light in an outhouse—you were just asking to get flushed.
"Damn it! Where is that coward Danzo?!" Hiruzen's eyes frantically scanned the periphery outside the now-visible barrier, but there was no sign of his old rival or his Root operatives.
"Hmph! When I get out of this, I'll have your head for this insubordination!" Hiruzen seethed with regret. He never should have attacked Raimon. If he had just explained the situation with Minato calmly, there might have been a chance for reason. Now, he had backed himself into a corner.
But could he drop the barrier? Unleashing an unsealed, agitated, and immensely powerful Edo Tensei like Namikaze Raimon upon a weakened Konoha was unthinkable. The other Great Nations would swoop in like vultures on a dying steer.
There was only one path left. The mutual destruction technique. The Dead Demon Consuming Seal.
"Orochimaru! Buy me some time!" Hiruzen commanded, beginning to form the necessary hand signs.
Orochimaru simply pointed a trembling finger at his own face, his eyes wide. "Me? You must be joking!"
He had no desire to have his own rear end blasted into the next century. His grand plan for his sensei's dramatic death was forgotten. Konoha's problems were no longer his.
"Jirobo! Tayuya! We're leaving!" Orochimaru barked.
Without a second glance back, he ordered the Sound Four to dissolve the Four Violet Flames Formation. In a flash of motion, he and his subordinates vanished, fleeing Konoha with a speed born of pure, unadulterated terror. His status as a rogue ninja was the least of his concerns now.
"Farewell, sensei. Since you're so determined to die a hero's death, I won't interfere with your glorious end!"
With Orochimaru's abrupt departure, Hiruzen Sarutobi was left in a tragically awkward position. He was alone. If he tried to fight, he'd be drilled before he could complete a single seal. If he didn't fight, the truth about Minato would come out, and he'd be drilled anyway.
As the barrier fell, the Hokage Guard Platoon, ANBU, and Kakashi finally swarmed onto the rooftop, surrounding their leader.
"Hokage-sama! Are you alright? Leave this enemy to us!" one of the ANBU captains declared, brandishing his tantō with valiant ignorance.
Hiruzen's eye twitched violently. Who trained this baka? Can he not see the situation?!
Before he could shout a warning, a cold, amused voice cut through the air.
"Deal with me?" Namikaze Raimon asked, a predatory grin spreading across his face as he cracked his knuckles. "Now, I have to wonder… who gave you that kind of courage?"