By dusk, Shimizu had already received his latest orders. The higher-ups of Konohagakure commanded him to lead the Seventeenth Regiment to the encampment where Orochimaru was currently stationed. Orochimaru, it seemed, was in the midst of reorganizing his forces—an unmistakable sign that some new move was on the horizon.
The army under Orochimaru's command lay less than a hundred kilometers from Kikyo Castle. In practical terms, that meant that should an emergency arise, he could mobilize his troops and reach the battlefield within two hours to reinforce the city. Of course, the positioning worked both ways: if the Sunagakure forces encircling Kikyo Castle attempted to strike at him instead, timely intelligence would afford him at least an hour to withdraw.
It was a delicate balance—neither too close to the heart of the conflict, nor willing to stand entirely apart. A distance that lingered, neither here nor there.
By deep night, Shimizu arrived at his destination and, without a moment's rest, was swept into a pre-battle council convened by Orochimaru himself.
When asked what strategy might break the stalemate, Shimizu answered plainly, "We should focus on harassment. The center of this war is still Kikyo Castle."
The ten-thousand-strong army of Sunagakure was already being contained by the forces at the city. Their own contingent numbered less than four thousand; a direct confrontation was never their role to begin with. Why overstep and steal the stage?
Besides, keeping Orochimaru in check had always been the intention of the Third Hokage.
"So, Uzuki-kun believes we lack the strength to shake Sunagakure?" Orochimaru asked, his tone deceptively light.
"We are at a numerical disadvantage. A rash offensive would carry significant risk."
"I see," Orochimaru replied, as though arriving at some private conclusion.
From that moment until the meeting adjourned, Shimizu found no chance to speak again. Nor did any of the assembled commanders so much as suggest seeking his opinion. Not one voice turned toward him with a question, not even out of courtesy.
How amusing.
He bore the title of Orochimaru's deputy, yet in truth it was nothing more than an empty honor—form without substance.
Still, the experience was not without its revelations. Not only did he witness firsthand Orochimaru's cold, venomous cunning, he also felt the pull of that peculiar charisma—the unsettling allure of a villain who commanded loyalty without explanation.
What had Orochimaru promised them? Or had he simply rewritten their thoughts altogether?
Shimizu found himself genuinely curious. Whatever method Orochimaru used, could it be learned—perhaps even replicated?
Even in the stories of his previous life, what had been shown was little more than a mysterious, almost religious devotion that others bore toward Orochimaru.
The meeting dispersed, figures slipping past him one after another until he alone remained, standing in the quiet.
"My subordinates have always been like this," Orochimaru said with a thin veneer of politeness. "They are accustomed to swift and decisive action."
"You called me here just to watch that performance?"
"Now, now, Uzuki-kun, don't be impatient." Orochimaru turned toward the doorway. "Come in, you two—Hayakumo, Megumi."
Two figures entered at his summons.
"This is Hyūga Hayakumo, first place in this year's Chūnin Exams, and Uchiha Megumi, who placed third. Both are among the finest of the new generation—prodigies, one might say."
He gestured toward Shimizu with a faint smile. "And this young jōnin is the one whose name now echoes throughout Konoha—the 'Shunshin Shimizu.'"
"I've heard of you," Hyūga Hayakumo said calmly. "As a junior, I still have much to learn. If the opportunity arises, I would appreciate your guidance."
"You're too polite," Shimizu replied lightly, though his gaze drifted to Megumi. "With one of the Sannin as your teacher, is there really any need to ask me?"
She remained silent.
Hayakumo, caught off guard, found himself unable to respond.
"Uzuki-kun, speaking like that is—"
"Orochimaru." Shimizu cut him off, his voice firm.
To him, all that hollow civility had already become little more than noise.
"Get to the point."
The two youths stared at him in astonishment. This was one of the Sannin—Orochimaru himself. Who would dare address him in such a manner? Not even an honorific—nothing.
Had he grown tired of living?
Yet Orochimaru showed no anger. That same inscrutable smile curved across his lips as he spoke slowly, almost indulgently. "Uzuki-kun is as impatient as ever."
He paused, then added, "Why don't I show you around the camp first? We can talk as we walk."
"Fine."
"You two," he said, glancing back at his disciples, "continue practicing what I taught you last time."
"Yes, sensei." Hayakumo and Megumi answered in turn before stepping out of the tent.
Just before she left, however, Megumi cast a brief, complicated glance at Shimizu—a fleeting look, layered with thoughts he could not quite read.
"Tell me, Uzuki-kun," Orochimaru began as he led Shimizu through the camp, "do you think Konohagakure is strong?"
"Stronger than Sunagakure and Iwagakure," Shimizu replied evenly.
"And yet," Orochimaru continued, his voice smooth and contemplative, "I find that Konoha has not behaved like a true powerhouse. Since the war with Sunagakure began, there has not been a single victory worth the name—and the only one we can claim was won by me, in spite of the pressure from my own teacher."
As they walked, Shimizu noticed the way the surrounding shinobi regarded Orochimaru. There was no pretense in their expressions—only a deep, instinctive reverence. It was clear that Orochimaru had already seized complete command of this army, not merely in title, but in spirit.
"You think Konoha is too conservative?" Shimizu asked.
"Konoha has never taken the initiative," Orochimaru said. "Even when the western front was once the primary battlefield, they preferred to maintain a stalemate rather than strike."
By then, they had reached the edge of the camp. Orochimaru turned to the sentries stationed along the perimeter and gave a quiet order. "Without my command, no one is to enter or leave."
"Yes, sir!"
Soon, silence settled over the area. No watchers lingered in the shadows; no prying eyes remained.
Strangely, it was only then that Shimizu found himself relaxing. Orochimaru had brought him out here in full view of the entire camp—if anything were to happen now, the blame would fall squarely on him. With that thought, Shimizu's tension ebbed, replaced by a sharper curiosity.
"You've gone to quite some lengths to bring me out here," he said. "What is it you really want?"
"There were always members of Root nearby before—it was inconvenient to speak freely. But now…" Orochimaru's lips curled faintly, "no one will interrupt us."
"I would like to ask Uzuki-kun for two favors."
"Oh?" Shimizu raised a brow. "Now this is rare. One of the Sannin asking something of me?" No wonder Orochimaru had tolerated his earlier rudeness without the slightest irritation. Under other circumstances, the man might have already turned the conversation into a battlefield.
"But before that…" Orochimaru's tone shifted, almost imperceptibly, "let me first see how far you've come."
The moment his words fell, dozens of small snakes burst forth from his sleeve, darting toward Shimizu with startling speed.
The technique—Hidden Shadow Snake Hands.
In the same instant, a brilliant flash of lightning tore through the darkness, grazing past Orochimaru's cheek like a streak of pale fire.
With a wet, slicing sound, every single snake was severed cleanly in half.
Shimizu knew Orochimaru had no intention of killing him—at least, not here. But he had no illusions that the man would engage him in honest conversation either. His body remained coiled with vigilance, every sense sharpened; at the slightest hint of danger, he was prepared to unleash his technique again without even forming a seal.
The instantaneous, seal-less ninjutsu—White Lightning—carried an air of uncanny power, its speed and precision almost unnatural.
After the brief exchange, Orochimaru reached up and lightly touched his cheek, unscathed by the passing lightning. His golden, slit-pupiled eyes gleamed in the night as they settled on the scattered remains of the snakes, his expression shifting into one of keen fascination.
"Is this a new technique you've developed, Uzuki-kun?" he asked softly. "I didn't see you form any hand seals… so it's a seal-less jutsu, isn't it?"
Those vertical pupils seemed to glow in the darkness.
"That's right."
"If I recall correctly, your other technique—the Lightning Blade Slash—was also seal-less."
"You've got a good memory."
Back then, the Lightning Blade Slash had been limited to close-quarters combat despite requiring no seals. But now, this White Lightning—especially when released from the index finger of Shimizu's left hand—had reached a striking distance of sixteen meters.
Standing only a few meters away, Orochimaru was well within range.
"Your water techniques once left me in awe," Orochimaru murmured. "I didn't expect your lightning style to reach such mastery as well."
"You flatter me," Shimizu replied calmly. Then, lifting his right hand ever so slightly, he added, "Shall we continue?"
So he can use his right hand as well… Orochimaru noted the detail at once. Did that mean he could attack from two directions simultaneously? Or balance offense and defense in the same breath?
Gradually, the thought of further testing faded from Orochimaru's mind.
One seal-less technique might be dismissed as coincidence—a stroke of luck. But two? That was no accident.
Sooner or later, Shimizu would create a third, a fourth—perhaps an entire series of such techniques.
Seal-less ninjutsu… it defied the very foundation of what it meant to be a shinobi.
If developed into a complete system, it could very well open an entirely new path within the ninja world.
Orochimaru himself had walked the lonely road of forbidden techniques for years, pouring untold time, effort, and genius into his research. No one understood better than he the weight of such achievements.
For a fleeting moment, his emotions grew complicated.
"There's no need," he said at last.
"To think you've already reached such heights, Uzuki-kun… I must say, you've truly impressed me."