Smoke and flame still choked the hidden chamber. Shigure stood at the center, his chest heaving slightly from unleashing volley after volley of Fire Style jutsu. Ash carpeted the floor; the air stank of scorched flesh.
"Shigure!" Hizashi shouted. "Enough! They should all be dead!"
The boy lowered his palms at last, Sharingan fading slightly as he scanned the devastation. Indeed, the blackened remnants of the Evil God cultists littered the chamber, twisted and motionless. By now, any ordinary enemy would have been reduced to nothing.
Yet Shigure stayed tense, eyes narrowing. "No… something's wrong. I don't see the Grand Master anywhere."
Noguchi frowned. "How can you even recognize him? They've all been burned to charcoal."
Before Shigure could answer, Hizashi's voice cut sharp through the smoke. "Be careful!"
Suddenly, what remained of the leader burst from the ashes with monstrous vitality. His entire upper body was gruesomely torn apart, his ribs and skin ripped back like a gruesome cage of bone—but he moved, alive despite his ruin. Hizashi lunged, shoving Noguchi aside just as the creature slashed forward, saving him by a hair.
Shigure cursed inwardly. So even his body destroyed, he revives… this regeneration is even more grotesque than his believers. No wonder we couldn't sense chakra—he's already dead.
"Damn it! There's only one way—we have to bury him alive!" Shigure shouted.
A deep, rumbling laugh echoed behind them. The ground trembled as a new chakra presence surged into the cavern. "Allow me!"
The stone floor beneath their feet liquefied into a roaring swamp. Mud bubbled up in waves, dragging the cultists—writhing even in revival—down into suffocating depths. The remaining zealots shrieked, struggling uselessly as the mire swallowed them whole. Within moments, nothing remained but sludge and silence.
Shigure and Hizashi leapt clear of the sudden quake, landing against the cavern's rough stone walls. The enemy was gone, smothered under layers of heavy earth.
From the smoking pit, a booming, self-assured voice declared:
"That is my Earth Style: Toad Oil Swamp! Another flawless success from the legendary, handsome, romantic Sage of Mount Myōboku—one of the Three Great Ninjas of Konoha…"
A tall figure stepped forward into the light, wooden clogs clattering loudly. White hair whipped behind him, and a ridiculous grin split his face. "Yes! The one and only Jiraiya the Toad Sage, at your service!"
Hizashi exhaled in obvious relief, a small smile easing through the fatigue on his face. "Lord Jiraiya… one of the Three Ninjas…" His tone was grateful and reverent.
"Senior Brother Jiraiya," Shigure asked, both cautious and curious, "how did you make it here?"
Jiraiya puffed out his chest proudly. "A beautiful young lady happened to open a secret passage for me. At first, I thought it might be a trap, but it seems my irresistible charm won her heart instead!" He gave a smug thumbs-up.
Shigure blinked, deadpan, thinking instantly of the unsettlingly seductive woman from before. Him? Conquering by charm? Somehow that doesn't sit right…
Still, he bowed slightly. "Either way, you've saved us again. My thanks."
Jiraiya waved dismissively. "It's fine. Our missions just happened to overlap. I've been investigating this branch of the Jashin cult for some time. If not for you paving the way, they'd have stalled me endlessly." He gave Hizashi an approving nod. "You've trained sharp students, Hizashi. I can see why Sensei trusts your judgment."
Hizashi flushed modestly. "Not at all. Their talent outpaces my guidance."
"Right, right. Which brings me to this." Jiraiya turned to Shigure, his grin softening into something more serious. "Junior brother… battles like these aren't just won with overwhelming force. Defense matters, too. So I'll repay the debt of your help today with a gift of knowledge. I'll pass down a ninjutsu of my own."
Shigure's eyes lit instantly. "Of course! I'd be honored!"
Jiraiya stroked his chin theatrically. "However… I don't give away lessons so easily. Consider this a test. If you can master the basics of what I show you within thirty minutes, I'll even throw in another technique."
Shigure smiled faintly. "Challenge accepted."
The older ninja's mood brightened again. "Good! Watch carefully."
He sat cross-legged, sake sloshing lightly in a gourd at his belt, then ran his fingers swiftly through practiced hand seals. Chakra flared.
"Ninjutsu: Needle Jizō!"
In an instant, Jiraiya's long mane bristled, his white locks shooting outward as though alive. They thickened, hardened, and wrapped tightly around his body like armored coils. Each strand stiffened into spines, forming a living hedgehog of hair that both shielded him from assault and threatened retaliation against anyone who dared strike him in close quarters.
His barbed dome gleamed under the flickering torchlight, dangerous and absolute.
Shigure's eyes narrowed. "So it's both barrier and counterattack… wrapping defensive armor into pointed offense. A technique of perfect timing." His sharp mind grasped the principle quickly. "It would only falter against overwhelming area damage, long-range bombardments, or heavy blunt force."
Jiraiya blinked. "You understood all that just from one demonstration?" He rubbed his temple. His student's speed of comprehension was uncanny. "Anyway… your turn. Try summoning chakra to your follicles, make the hair rigid and responsive to your will."
He fully expected failure. Even for prodigies, techniques like this required repeated effort, endless micro-adjustments through trial and error. Nobody ever got it on the first try.
Nobody—except Shigure.
Without hesitation, the boy formed the same seal, gathering chakra through his scalp channels. His dark hair suddenly lengthened in a rush. Each strand stiffened, sharpening to needle points. In less than heartbeats, his entire form was cocooned in spines.
"Ninjutsu: Needle Jizō," Shigure echoed calmly.
From his body burst a halo of hair—denser, sharper, with greater range than Jiraiya's own. The barbs jutted outward like spears, extending further than even their master's example. The air quivered with the sheer control behind the display.
Jiraiya's jaw dropped. "W-Wa—Careful!" He executed a startled backflip to evade the range. For once, the shameless Sannin was left sweating, rattled in a way he almost never revealed.
Shigure released the jutsu, hair snapping obediently back into place. He nodded in admiration. "A very effective technique, Senior Brother. Offense and defense both. A true lifesaver—thank you."
Jiraiya forced a laugh, wiping perspiration off his brow as though casually. But his heart hammered. Unbelievable. Not just in learning speed, but in raw execution—his performance exceeded mine the first attempt. He understood, adapted, and perfected all in minutes.
He stared at the boy hard, tension written in the gleam of his eyes. Could this talent… surpass even Orochimaru's?
The thought chilled him. And yet, for Sarutobi-sensei's sake, perhaps this prodigy's existence was the miracle the Leaf had been waiting for.
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