Impossible.
The leader of the Hot Water ninja stared at Qianyu, disbelief warping his features.
He had thrown the kunai right at him. It had struck home. Yet Qianyu's form had dissolved like a mirage, reappearing meters away.
The signs were unmistakable. He was trapped in a genjutsu.
But… when? How?
His hands trembled. The memory flashed—the Seventh Form: Honoikazuchi no Kami, that blinding draw-cut. He'd seen it clearly then: the spiraling red of the Sharingan within the storm of lightning.
His face darkened with realization. "…So that was it," he said, voice thick. "That instant. Your ocular genjutsu."
Qianyu gave a slight, tired nod. "Ah. You figured it out. I said I couldn't kill you. Had to leave myself a backup plan." He shrugged, a sharp, pained movement. "Not a fan of genjutsu, honestly. Prefer a straight fight. Technically, it was the first time."
The leader's expression was grim. "Truly impressive. If your chakra hadn't been nearly empty, an elite jōnin like me might have actually fallen here. But it was. Your illusion was weak."
The principles were clear. Ocular genjutsu of this level required an external disruption of chakra flow to break. But there was another way.
His hand moved. A fresh kunai appeared, and without hesitation, he drove it deep into his own thigh.
Pain, sharp and clean, sliced through the false reality. The world snapped back into focus.
He pulled the blade free, ignoring the welling blood. His eyes, cold as winter stone, locked onto Qianyu. "Now… you have no more tricks left."
A smile—brighter, more dangerous—spread across Qianyu's face. "No tricks? You're the one who's out of moves."
A voice, smooth and chilling, spoke from directly behind him. "Kuroiwa Tatsuji. You have already lost to my student."
The leader, Kuroiwa Tatsuji, didn't turn. Didn't attack. The fight bled out of him with a heavy, defeated sigh. The moment Orochimaru appeared, any chance of resistance vanished.
A bitter laugh escaped him. "The depth of a great village's talent… it's something else. The Sannin. The White Fang. Bloodlines. Secret arts. And now, even the new saplings have grown to this height…" He looked at Qianyu, then back at the space before him. "You didn't kill me. So the boy wasn't lying. I'm needed alive for your plan. But what use am I? A minor village like ours… we have no voice."
Orochimaru's tone was flat, matter-of-fact. "We do not ask for anything difficult. In fact, if you follow my instructions, even if Konoha and Kumogakure go to full-scale war, the flames will not touch your Hidden Hot Water."
A flicker of desperate hope lit in Kuroiwa's weary eyes. "What would you have us do?"
"We withdraw. Now. Once we are gone, you will expel the Cloud ninja from your village. Hot Water will resume its neutrality."
Kuroiwa's brow furrowed. "I told you. We have no leverage. The Cloud is already entrenched. Getting them to leave is—"
Orochimaru cut him off, his voice dropping to a serpent's hiss. "Konoha came here today to attack Cloud. Your village was merely… collateral. Is that not reason enough for them to withdraw? If any Cloud ninja—even one—remains in Hot Water afterwards, Konoha shinobi will return. And we will not be so restrained."
The pieces clicked into place for Kuroiwa with a sickening finality.
Konoha's attack had devastated Hot Water. That devastation was now his excuse. "We cannot bear further losses. To protect what remains of our home, we must return to neutrality. You must leave." The Cloud had failed in their promise to protect the village. The justification was on Hot Water's side.
But the understanding brought a cold, quiet fury. He saw the real plan now.
This wasn't about striking the Cloud. It was about striking Hot Water. Punishing them for choosing a side. Forcing them back into the safe, impotent role of a neutral bystander.
Orochimaru saw the resentment in his eyes and understood the misconception. He didn't bother to correct it. The result was the same.
To save what was left of his village, Kuroiwa would declare neutrality. The Cloud would be forced out.
And the news that Orochimaru of the Sannin was now leading the Konoha forces in the Land of Hot Water would spread like wildfire through the remaining Cloud ranks. That was the true objective.
Orochimaru spoke to the small frog on his shoulder. "Signal the retreat. Gather everyone at the village gates. The plan succeeded."
Nearby, Minato Namikaze, who had been watching from a distance, gave Qianyu one last, deeply complex look—a mix of assessment, concern, and something unreadable—before vanishing in a flash of yellow to support the other retreating units.
Orochimaru walked to Qianyu and extended a hand.
Qianyu grasped it, letting the older ninja pull him to his feet. His legs shook, threatening to buckle.
"Can you move?"
Qianyu shook his head. "Pushed too far. Can't really… feel my legs anymore."
Without another word, Orochimaru turned and knelt, presenting his back.
Qianyu blinked, surprised. But he was too exhausted for pride. He climbed on.
Orochimaru stood, adjusting to the weight, and began walking toward the gathering point. "Your performance was exceptional," he said, his praise cool and analytical. "Especially against Kuroiwa. He may lead a minor village, but he is still an elite jōnin. Had your chakra reserves been sufficient, the outcome might have been different. Even so… impressive. The battlefield is the best forge. Fights here are death matches. For a first campaign, your growth is notable."
"Thank you, Orochimaru-sensei," Qianyu murmured, his head resting against the man's shoulder. "Kuroiwa… he's on the weaker end for an elite jōnin, right?"
"Correct. Hot Water lacks… heritage. He has no foundation to stand against myself, or Jiraiya. At our level, the raw gap in skill often narrows. What creates the chasm are things like powerful ninjutsu, secret techniques, kekkei genkai. Kuroiwa knows only the common arts circulating the shinobi world. Predictable. That is why you could fight him to a standstill."
Qianyu let out a weary breath. "I see. Still… his experience was real. I was certain my Honoikazuchi no Kami could kill even a jōnin. Yet he found a way to evade it."
Orochimaru's voice turned grave, a direct order woven into his words. "Remember this, Qianyu. No one in this world is simple. Underestimate no one. Approach every battle as if it is your last."
The weight of the lesson settled on Qianyu, heavier than the fatigue. "Yes, sensei. I understand."