Chapter 37 - The Blade That Devours Light
"It's disgusting! Can you do a little bit of personnel?"
Youyu looked at Orochimaru with pure revulsion.
Just the sight of it all—the snakes, the way he moved, the way he spoke—everything about him rubbed Youyu the wrong way. He already hated snakes, and now this snake-loving freak was going even further by flooding the battlefield with a sea of writhing serpents.
Disgusting wasn't a strong enough word.
Youyu had made up his mind. He was going to bury all of it—Orochimaru, his snakes, his tricks, and his attitude—in one decisive slash.
As the sound of a thousand hissing tongues drew closer, Youyu's eyes shifted. No longer crimson, no longer wild, but black. Utterly black, like they swallowed light itself.
With a flick, he raised his sword.
"Armament."
Black energy surged along his arm and consumed the blade, making it hum with restrained power. The ground around him shook slightly. The wind shifted.
Orochimaru paused mid-formation, snake eyes narrowing. The pressure had changed—sharp and suffocating.
He could feel it.
Danger.
"Snake bastard," Youyu muttered coldly. "This slash will bury you and every one of your disgusting pets."
The black aura around him exploded outward like a storm, darkening the forest. It swallowed light, erased color, and left behind a void that felt like the breath before annihilation.
Even Orochimaru stumbled.
He blinked and everything was gone—sight, sense, direction. Darkness.
All around, panic set in.
"Why is it so dark?!"
"I can't see anything!"
"What's happening?!"
The entire forest was plunged into pitch black. No shapes. No outlines. No shadows. Even the massive tide of serpents froze and began writhing in disarray, blind and confused.
In Konoha, inside the Hokage's office, Sarutobi gripped the edge of the table.
The crystal ball had gone black.
"What's going on?!" he barked.
Yūhi Kurenai pointed to the window. Her hand trembled. "Look outside... at the forest."
Sarutobi turned and saw it.
The Forest of Death—gone. Swallowed in darkness so thick it looked like a gaping wound in the world.
Jiraiya stepped forward, speechless for a moment. "This... this isn't ninjutsu. That's not Orochimaru's technique. It has to be... him."
From the crystal ball, Youyu's voice emerged. Calm. Cold.
"One Sword Style..."
His presence radiated like the center of a storm.
Sword intent crackled from his form like arcs of black lightning, devouring the last traces of light around him. The energy converged on the blade, the black air currents feeding into its edge, condensing into pure destruction.
Orochimaru blinked up through the murk and saw them—eyes.
Massive, divine, horrific.
A pair of pitch-black eyes opened in the sky above him, and they looked down as if passing judgment.
Sarutobi's knees nearly gave out.
"Swordsmanship... can do this?"
Jiraiya, usually full of quips, only stared.
Inside the void of darkness, where hundreds of thousands of snakes had once swarmed, Youyu stood alone. A single figure against the tide.
And then...
"Snake bastard," he said, louder now, a dark light flickering in his pupils. "You and your snakes—go to hell."
The forest held its breath. Then the sword moved.
A single slash.
And the world shattered.