Chapter 36 - A Sea of Snakes vs. The Storm Blade
Orochimaru was being suppressed.
Jiraiya stared at the crystal screen, muttering in disbelief. Konoha's second-in-command, one of the legendary Sannin, was clearly being pushed back by Youyu—a boy barely past childhood.
The Hokage, arms crossed tightly, could barely mask his shock. Orochimaru had earned his reputation in the Second Great Ninja War, facing enemies like Hanzo the Salamander and surviving. His power was no secret—he was a true shadow-level shinobi. But now, every move he made seemed to be read, countered, and dismantled by Youyu.
The swordplay wasn't just effective—it was overwhelming. Worse, the longer the fight dragged on, the sharper Youyu became. He had already torn through the Forest of Death earlier, flattening trees and carving deep scars through the terrain. Yet fatigue didn't show in his steps; if anything, his strength was still rising.
The Hokage couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. Was Orochimaru actually going to lose?
White mist filled the field as more of Orochimaru's giant serpents emerged. The ground trembled with their weight. Snakes lunged and hissed, fangs bared and ready to tear into flesh.
Amid the chaos, two figures moved with blinding speed, clashing in bursts of steel and chakra. Sword flashes split through the air. One after another, the summoned serpents were cleaved in two, their bodies collapsing into the dust.
No one dared to speak. Even the bystanders from other villages—seasoned ninja in their own right—stood frozen. One of the shinobi from the Hidden Cloud trembled. "He's holding his own against Orochimaru... and more than that, he's winning."
Haneda Kaito couldn't believe what he was seeing. "That's one of the Sannin... the man who fought Hanzo himself. This shouldn't be possible."
Around them, every surviving genin from the outer villages wore the same expression. Horror. Disbelief. Gratitude. Gratitude that they'd been spared earlier by Youyu's drunken disorientation.
The numbers spoke for themselves. Half of the participants from outside villages were already dead. A few of the smaller villages had been completely wiped out.
Even the Ghost Shark—clutching his wound, blood seeping between his fingers—was silent. He'd vowed to train harder, to one day return and defeat Youyu. But now, watching this battle unfold, he questioned whether that day would ever come.
Youyu, breathing slightly harder now, slashed down another serpent. His irritation was written clearly on his face.
"Snakes, snakes, more snakes! Is that all you've got?"
He planted his sword in the ground and pointed it at Orochimaru, expression full of contempt. Orochimaru leapt back, using the opening to widen the distance.
He was breathing hard. Despite his superior chakra control, the battle was draining. But what disturbed him most wasn't his own fatigue—it was that Youyu still had strength to spare.
The Forest of Death had been decimated. An entire section of Konoha's training grounds had been reduced to rubble. And the boy looked like he'd barely broken a sweat.
Even more alarming: Youyu's attacks didn't emit strong chakra signatures. His slashes weren't built on brute chakra force. They were something else—something even Orochimaru couldn't explain. He had fought Hatake Sakumo. He knew what true swordsmanship looked like. But Youyu's slashes felt otherworldly, like they cut through the fabric of reality itself.
Orochimaru narrowed his eyes. This boy was beyond unusual. This boy might be the real monster.
"I have to end this," he muttered.
He began weaving hand signs. Even if it drained him, he would use one of his most powerful techniques.
In the Hokage's office, the crystal ball flared.
"That seal... Orochimaru's serious," the Hokage said, standing abruptly.
Jiraiya's brow furrowed. "Didn't think he'd resort to that..."
They weren't the only ones watching. Around the room, murmurs spread. Orochimaru was about to go all in.
Back in the forest, Orochimaru hissed, "Ninja Art—Array of Ten Thousand Snakes!"
He dropped low to the ground, his jaw unhinging unnaturally. And then—it began.
Countless vipers poured from his mouth in a living tide, writhing and screeching, fangs glinting in the sunlight. The swarm grew, piling on itself, forming a monstrous tidal wave of scale and fang nearly a hundred meters high.
The roar of hissing filled the air, drowning out every other sound. Bystanders from across the forest fell to their knees, overwhelmed by the suffocating pressure.
Some fainted. Others stood frozen in horror.
"This... this isn't a jutsu," someone whispered. "It's a nightmare."
The Hokage gripped the edge of the table, watching the monstrous sea of snakes rise toward Youyu. "Let's see how you handle this."
But Youyu didn't run. He didn't flinch.
He raised his blade, tightened his grip, and smiled.