Watching his attacks barely make a dent, Orochimaru fought while pondering his next move.
What could he do?
The worst battles weren't when you couldn't land a blow—they were when your opponent refused to take any damage at all. It was like poking a vat with a toothpick, or a worm exploring the ocean: frantic effort yielding nothing.
A strange thought flickered across Orochimaru's mind—why did he suddenly think of Jiraiya? Déjà vu, perhaps. No matter; the Third Kazekage seized the moment, hurling a spear straight at him.
"Bang, bang, bang, bang!"
Four shuriken flew in perfect arcs, striking the spear's tail and altering its trajectory. Still, the spear's speed was overwhelming. Though deflected, it left a deep gash across Orochimaru's cheek, blood flowing instantly.
The Kazekage shook his head in regret; the blow hadn't crippled Orochimaru as intended. He had hoped to force a defensive reaction and expose an opening—yet Hayashi had already predicted it with his Sharingan.
Such refined shurikenjutsu—truly a testament to the Uchiha Clan.
The Kazekage's thoughts darkened. Of the four, the one he most feared was Hayashi. To fight at this age was terrifying; imagining his potential was unsettling. Yet Hayashi refused to advance, sticking to the backline like a cautious strategist.
An assist? Inconceivable. Who ever heard of a support ninja merely observing while others took the brunt?
Still, the Kazekage maintained his composure; in a battle like this, the youth's loss of control could already determine half the outcome.
Orochimaru's pride was stung, though he was uninjured. At twenty-two, seasoned in combat, he hated being caught off guard.
"Hey Orochimaru, you going to sit there or join in? Swap me in if you're tired—I've been waiting!"
Jiraiya's voice carried lazily, as if teasing a girl instead of the Kazekage. Orochimaru blinked, his tension melting. He smiled, straightening his posture. "No problem—leave it to me!"
Hayashi muttered under his breath, "…Even sedatives aren't this effective. Jiraiya is Orochimaru's personal catalyst."
Nearby, Sakumo gritted his teeth. Fresh wounds streaked his body, blood at the corner of his mouth.
"I'm bleeding and you two are flirting?"
Free men like Sakumo rarely cursed, but frustration loosened his tongue. The Iron-Sand Shield continued to chip away at him. Every strike drained strength, yet this shield responded instinctively, like an extension of the Kazekage's body.
After several exchanges, fresh cuts marred Sakumo's body. He made a calculated choice: trade injury for opportunity. He deliberately exposed an opening, letting the Kazekage's iron weapon pierce his arm—then trapped him.
Recognizing the cue, Hayashi sprang into action.
A chakra-infused kunai hissed through the air, followed immediately by a Chidori Sharp Spear that drilled deep into the Kazekage's arm.
Hayashi aimed not to kill, but to immobilize. Iron Sand swarmed around the Kazekage, guarding vital points while leaving just enough of his arm exposed to strike. The kunai punched through the sand before losing momentum, then the Chidori slipped perfectly through the tiny gap.
Without waiting for results, Hayashi dispersed his Lightning Release and retreated alongside Sakumo.
Iron spears rained down, blasting the surrounding desert as if freshly tilled.
"Fall back slightly," Orochimaru commanded, surging forward with Jiraiya. His gaze was sharper now, calculating and cold.
His hands formed the Summoning Seal, and a colossal python burst forth from his sleeve. Its jaws gaped toward the Kazekage, inside glinting a pure-white longsword.
Iron spears bombarded the serpent, but its massive form ignored the blows, rising high and opening wide toward the Kazekage.
From its mouth erupted countless Kusanagi shadow clones, moving with speed rivaling the Kazekage's iron-shuriken storm. Each attack was bright and devastating, capable of blinding in daylight.
The Kazekage attempted a Body-Flicker, only to find his ankles bound by threads of white hair. Steel-strong strands dug into his skin, the sudden pain blurring his senses.
In the next heartbeat, the Kusanagi sword-storm descended, raining down like meteors—replicating the ferocity he had once unleashed on the Konoha ninjas.
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