Orochimaru's laughter dragged on far longer than necessary before finally fading.
"So you call that strong?" he sneered. "How strong is strong, exactly? What I pursue is the absolute peak of ninjutsu. Strength without understanding means nothing. Jiraiya, you're still just as naïve. You never understood me."
His long tongue slid across his face.
"That's why you'll always trail behind me."
"Orochimaru."
Jiraiya's voice was unexpectedly calm. No anger. No joking. His posture was rigid, solemn in a way that felt unfamiliar.
"This won't end the way it did last time," Tsunade snapped, fury blazing in her eyes.
"Heh." Orochimaru chuckled. "One of the Legendary Sannin crippled by hemophobia. You really are a disappointment, Tsunade."
Just with words, he held both of them in check. No jutsu. No movement. And somehow, he still felt dominant.
Then his smile sharpened.
Now.
"Everyone, watch out!" Fujimoto Tōma suddenly shouted.
"What—?!"
Crystalline blades erupted from the ground between them, forcing everyone to scatter. The spikes didn't chase. They didn't aim to kill.
Instead, they fused together, rising into jagged crystal walls that split the battlefield apart.
Isolation.
When the dust settled, the matchups were clear.
Kimimaro stepped toward Jiraiya.
Kabuto moved to Tsunade, Naruto, and Shizune.
And Orochimaru stood alone across from Tōma.
Tōma stared at the crystal formations, disbelief flashing across his eyes.
His perception had failed.
For the first time.
"Surprised?" Orochimaru hissed, watching him closely. "Every Flying Thunder God user relies on exceptional sensory ability. The Second Hokage. The Fourth Hokage. That confidence becomes a weakness."
He laughed softly.
"I specifically prepared for you."
So that was it.
Tōma exhaled. His perception hadn't failed. It had been bypassed.
"You used specialized concealment," he said calmly.
"Of course," Orochimaru replied. "She gathered no chakra in advance. Her presence was sealed completely. No movement. No fluctuation. A perfect blind spot for sensory ninja."
Then his eyes narrowed.
"And you still missed it. That's the limitation of someone without a bloodline."
"Most people would've missed it too," Tōma replied dryly. "Bloodline or not."
He checked his Flying Thunder God marks. Still intact.
"You know I can still take everyone and leave."
"Yes." Orochimaru spread his hands. "This was always a gamble. I'm betting you won't."
He smiled knowingly.
"Because you didn't come here to escape. You came here to kill me."
Silence stretched between them.
"When you stepped onto this plain," Orochimaru continued, "the bet was already decided."
Tōma sighed.
"…Honestly, Orochimaru, if you hadn't used your companions as disposable research materials, I might've respected you."
"Sentimental nonsense," Orochimaru scoffed. "Only power matters. Everything else exists to be studied. Including you."
Tōma's expression hardened.
He drew the Black Shadow Blade.
Lightning crackled across his body. Wind wrapped around him, forming a dense, invisible shell.
"Wind Release: Wind Armor."
Orochimaru didn't hesitate.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball!"
A massive inferno surged forward.
Tōma raised one hand.
A steel pellet hovered before him.
He flicked it.
The projectile vanished in a streak of white light, punching cleanly through the fireball and straight into Orochimaru's chest.
A gaping hole exploded through his torso.
"Ninjutsu: Railgun."
Tōma nodded faintly. The output was finally respectable.
But the flesh wriggled.
Orochimaru's body reknit itself in moments, grotesque and fluid.
"Impressive," Orochimaru praised. "A seal-less technique."
His head emerged from the side of his neck.
Tōma was already moving.
He flashed in, blade descending.
Clang!
A sword burst from Orochimaru's mouth, blocking the strike. The Kusanagi blade held firm, immune even to wind-enhanced cutting.
Steel rang against steel.
Strike after strike followed in rapid succession.
Tōma landed multiple hits, but each wound closed instantly.
Too shallow.
"Your swordsmanship reminds me of that fool who believed in the Will of Fire," Orochimaru said lightly. "The White Fang."
Tōma's blade trembled.
Not from fear.
From strain.
His weapon was reaching its limit.
Orochimaru saw it.
The opening.
He knocked the blade aside and slashed downward with full force.
But the space was empty.
Tōma vanished.
Orochimaru twisted impossibly, eyes snapping upward just in time to see the descending arc of steel.
The blade cleaved him in half.
Then again.
And again.
Tōma reappeared at a distance as Orochimaru's body fell apart in pieces.
He formed hand seals.
"Fire Release: Great Fire Dragon!"
A roaring torrent of flame engulfed the remains.
When the fire died down, a massive charred snake corpse lay where Orochimaru had been.
Tōma stared at it, expression unreadable.
"…So that's where Sasuke learned it."
...
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