"I underestimated this jutsu's defense!"
Uchiha Fugaku was a little surprised.
The reason he killed Tsuchidai was because of a deal with the Hyūga clan. To him, Tsuchidai's kekkei genkai was nothing more than an extra prize, something he didn't particularly value.
But now it seemed he had underestimated this bloodline limit, one renowned for its defensive power.
This kekkei genkai had no offensive capability whatsoever, but in terms of defense, it was truly exceptional.
"Susanoo—"
Fugaku summoned Susanoo. A colossal black skeletal hand emerged and gripped the spherical barrier, squeezing down with tremendous force.
The sphere distorted slightly under pressure, yet still held its overall shape. If someone were protected inside, they would likely remain unharmed.
"I really did underestimate this defense!" Fugaku's eyes lit up with surprise.
The crushing power of Susanoo's hand was terrifying. It could easily grind a person into pulp, or crush an iron sphere of equal size as if it were nothing.
And yet, this spherical defense remained intact under that power—proving its formidable strength.
"Second Form—"
Susanoo's body grew tendons and muscle, its power greatly enhanced. Fugaku clenched again.
This time, the sphere was severely deformed, though still not destroyed. If someone had been inside, they would have been injured, but their life would likely be spared.
"Third Form—"
Fugaku pushed Susanoo to the third stage. Armor encased the massive figure, and its strength skyrocketed.
Crack—!
Under the might of the armored Susanoo, the sphere was crushed flat and shattered apart, its defense finally broken.
Even so, Fugaku couldn't help but marvel at its resilience.
After all, this was his third-form Susanoo—the very peak of power that Mangekyō Sharingan could unleash.
"A remarkable defense. While it can't compare to the third-form Susanoo, this kekkei genkai has one undeniable advantage—it doesn't consume ocular power." Fugaku sighed in admiration.
He had to admit he had underestimated it. In the original records, this kekkei genkai's technique had been broken by the reanimated Third Raikage, which made it seem unimpressive.
But who was the Third Raikage?
A man whose body could fight the Eight-Tails head-on. A man who could suppress it and even snap off one of its horns.
It wasn't that this bloodline's defense was weak—it was that the Third Raikage was simply too strong.
Deep within Konoha Prison, several cells were heavily guarded by layers of shinobi.
Each was reinforced with special barriers that nullified all ninjutsu, making infiltration impossible.
This was where the most dangerous criminals were held.
At that moment, inside one of these high-security cells sat the captured S-rank rogue ninja—Orochimaru.
Dressed in prison garb, his body was bound by multiple seals. His chakra was completely sealed, leaving him powerless.
Hum—
The air distorted.
Without a sound, a figure appeared in the cell—draped in a black cloak patterned with red clouds, wearing a spiral mask.
It was Uchiha Obito.
"Well, well… to think the infamous Orochimaru would end up like this." Obito chuckled, his gaze falling on the prisoner.
"Space-time ninjutsu!" Orochimaru's snake-like eyes gleamed with curiosity.
Konoha's prison was sealed against all jutsu—only space-time ninjutsu could bypass such restrictions.
"So, you're the rumored Wood Style shinobi? And a member of Akatsuki as well?"
"You could say that… or not."
Imitating Madara's tone, Obito spoke with feigned mystery.
"Oh? What do you mean?" Orochimaru asked with keen interest.
"I founded Akatsuki. The organization exists because of me—because of my goals."
Obito's tone was calm, deliberate.
"So you're the mastermind behind Akatsuki?" Orochimaru's eyes widened slightly.
"That's right." Obito nodded proudly.
"I must admit, I'm surprised. That man Pain, wielder of the Rinnegan, would submit to you?"
Orochimaru found it hard to believe.
"Surprised? What if I told you that Rinnegan was given to him by me?" Obito said with a mysterious smile.
"You gave Pain his Rinnegan?"
Orochimaru's expression shifted to shock. He stared at Obito in disbelief.
"Who exactly are you?"
"My name… is Uchiha Madara."
Obito revealed the Mangekyō Sharingan in his right eye, his voice dripping with authority.
"Uchiha Madara?"
"Mangekyō Sharingan?"
Orochimaru's snake-like pupils narrowed sharply.
Madara was said to have lived in the same era as the First Hokage, and to have died by his hand.
For this man to claim such an identity naturally raised doubt.
And yet, the eye he revealed was undeniably a Mangekyō Sharingan.
Even if he wasn't truly Madara, he had to be a blood descendant of the Uchiha.
"The Uchiha clan…" Orochimaru instinctively licked his lips.
Such a mysterious family.
There was Uchiha Shisui—a prodigy who had achieved Kage-level strength in his teens.
There was Uchiha Fugaku—who had hidden his true power for decades, only to reveal strength even Orochimaru couldn't match.
And now, this man—wielding space-time ninjutsu and the Mangekyō Sharingan, claiming to be Uchiha Madara himself.
Not to mention Uchiha Itachi, a genius whose talent left a deep impression on him.
The Uchiha bloodline was truly extraordinary.
"Come. I'll take you out of here."
Seeing that Orochimaru was hooked, Obito activated Kamui. A swirling black vortex opened in the air.
"Leaving already?" Orochimaru raised a brow.
"The current Uchiha clan head's power rivals your own in your prime. He's the one who captured me. Aren't you curious to see him?"
Having witnessed Fugaku's terrifying strength—and now faced with a man claiming to be Madara—Orochimaru was genuinely intrigued to see the two clash.
"A mere junior… not worth my time."
Beneath the mask, Obito's face stiffened.
Of course, he knew Fugaku's strength firsthand—he'd barely escaped their last encounter.
But to admit that would shatter his façade as Madara.
"I see…"
Orochimaru gave him a knowing look. With his sharp perception, he could tell "Madara's" words lacked conviction.
Most likely, this so-called Madara had indeed suffered at Fugaku's hands.
As for his true identity… Orochimaru could already guess.
Still, without another word, he stepped forward and entered the vortex.
He could've escaped on his own, of course—but letting someone else do the work was always more convenient.