Orochimaru's golden, snake-like eyes fixed on Shigure with a rare seriousness.
He no longer regarded him as a mere Genin brat. In this moment, Orochimaru saw Shigure as an equal—perhaps even as someone who had surpassed him.
"It has been a long time," Orochimaru hissed, his voice carrying a chilling amusement, "since someone like you has appeared in the shinobi world."
Shigure gave no reply. He simply shifted the black blade in his hand and lunged, the edge grazing Orochimaru's neck. A fraction more force, and he would have slit it clean through.
Blood trickled down Orochimaru's pale throat.
Instead of fear, a smile twisted across his face. "Don't be so hasty. Don't you want to know what I've done to your companions?"
Shigure shook his head. "No."
"…What?"
The answer momentarily unsettled Orochimaru. If Shigure truly didn't care, why had he rushed to save his teammates when they were attacked? Was it instinct? Duty?
But Shigure's voice cut through his confusion, sharp as his blade.
"Sasuke's problem can be solved. That means I have no reason to let you live."
A cold light flashed in Shigure's eyes as he thrust. The black blade pierced straight through Orochimaru's neck.
The Sannin hadn't expected such decisiveness—no hesitation, no chance to bargain.
Splurt!
Blood gushed. Shigure withdrew his blade in one smooth motion, stepping back lightly to avoid the spray. His cold gaze never left Orochimaru.
For anyone else, such a wound would be instantly fatal. But Orochimaru was no ordinary shinobi. His brow furrowed as his body struggled to knit itself back together.
"Tch… damn you, boy." His voice rasped, his throat mangled. "If this vessel wasn't already at its limit, I'd kill you here and now."
Shigure sneered. "Kill me? You can't even stand."
Orochimaru's lips curled into a grim smile. "Yueguang Shigure… I'll remember you. We will meet again."
"Meet again?" Shigure tilted his head. "Did I say I'd let you leave today?"
"Fufufu…" Orochimaru chuckled darkly. "If I want to leave, no one can stop me."
His body convulsed. With a sickening sound, a new form slithered out from his mouth—the Orochimaru-Style Body Substitution Technique. His body dissolved into countless black snakes that scattered into the surrounding forest.
Against an ordinary shinobi, escape would have been assured.
But Orochimaru was not facing an ordinary shinobi.
"Ice Release: Freezing Moment!"
Frost surged from beneath Shigure's feet, spreading outward in all directions. Within moments, a fifty-meter radius of forest was consumed by biting cold. Trees froze, the earth cracked with ice, and the swarming snakes were trapped mid-slither in crystalline prisons.
Shigure's chakra flared again, intensifying the frost until the last writhing serpent was sealed in ice.
Crack!
One snake shuddered violently, bursting free of its frozen shell. In the same instant, Shigure's black blade flashed downward.
Clang!
The snake twisted—and in a burst of smoke and gore, Orochimaru himself rolled out, barely dodging death once more. His face was twisted in frustration.
"You… you froze everything in an instant…" His eyes narrowed. "This technique… its scope, its chakra consumption—it's monstrous."
He clenched his jaw. "To think a Genin could force me, one of the Sannin, into this state…"
Shigure raised his blade, silent, unyielding. His killing intent pressed down like ice itself.
"So you truly won't let me go."
Orochimaru's expression darkened. Suddenly, he bent forward—and from his mouth, a gleaming blade shot forth, aimed straight for Shigure's chest.
Clang!
With a swift backhand slash, Shigure deflected the Kusanagi blade aside, the metallic ring echoing through the frozen forest.
Orochimaru's arm snapped upward, catching the black blade mid-strike. His pale fingers clamped tightly around the hilt of his own weapon as the Kusanagi Sword gleamed menacingly in his grasp.
A cold, serpentine smile spread across his face.
"Don't think you're the only one who understands kenjutsu, boy."
Shigure's eyes narrowed slightly. Competing with him in swordsmanship? Orochimaru was inviting death.
Fine. Let's see whose blade truly reigns supreme.
In the next instant, Shigure accelerated. Though it wasn't the instantaneous flicker of a Shunshin no Jutsu, his pure taijutsu speed was more than enough to close the gap of only a few meters.
Steel clashed.
Clang!
The black blade collided with the Kusanagi. Orochimaru braced with both hands, but Shigure's relentless strikes followed without pause.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Three more cuts in rapid succession, each faster and heavier than the last. Orochimaru staggered, his composure wavering for the first time.
Only now did he fully register it—Shigure's swordsmanship wasn't just sharp, it was suffocating. Every slash carried flawless precision, as though he had already read every defensive motion Orochimaru would make.
The fourth strike fell like lightning.
Steel met steel—crack! The black blade struck the Kusanagi at its very tip. A piercing shockwave tore through it, shattering the legendary blade into fragments.
Blood burst into the air as Shigure's slash carved across Orochimaru's shoulder.
Their figures passed one another in silence, and when Orochimaru turned, he saw Shigure's back still facing him—blade lowered, posture calm.
Orochimaru's golden eyes widened in disbelief.
The Kusanagi… broken? By a single exchange?
He had chosen the legendary sword as his weapon for a reason. His kenjutsu wasn't lacking—far from it. Yet, before this boy, Orochimaru hadn't lasted even five strikes.
"This brat…" Orochimaru hissed under his breath, clutching his bleeding shoulder. "…his swordsmanship has already transcended into the realm of gods…"
The gap was immeasurable.
A flawless kenjutsu style, a terrifying kekkei genkai, and the ability to unleash ninjutsu without even weaving a single hand seal. Shigure was beyond extraordinary.
More perfect than Sasuke…
Orochimaru's mind raced. He had already planted the Curse Mark. Attempting to overwrite it again would take time—time he no longer had. And judging by the killing intent pressing down on him now, Shigure had no intention of granting him that luxury.
"It's over."
The words fell cold and final.
A single snowflake drifted down from the sky, landing softly between them. In that instant, Orochimaru felt a shiver crawl across his skin—as if a still lake had been shattered by a sudden storm.
Wind howled.
Snow whirled violently before his eyes, countless flakes gathering at once and converging around him. The temperature plummeted. Frost sank into his body from every pore, spreading through his veins like poison.
Ice crept across his limbs, climbing upward, until his movements froze entirely. His breath hitched as his body was consumed in crystalline white.
In the space of a heartbeat, Orochimaru stood immobilized—an ice sculpture, lifelike and eerie.
"Ice Release: Ice and Snow World."
Shigure exhaled calmly, turning as he slid his black blade back into its scabbard with a soft click.
"Great Sage," he said evenly, "give me a complete analysis of Orochimaru."
...
TN:
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