Retreating to the wall, Minato glanced at Tengen and Choso nearby.
They're young, exactly as I guessed. But their strength is completely unexpected. Both have mastered highly distinctive techniques.
Konoha had existed for fifty years. Under the Third Hokage's administration, the civilian faction had reached its peak.
This included the dividends of the hidden village system's new policies, as well as the fruits of victory from the Second Shinobi World War.
But civilian ninjas weren't the only ones who'd grown stronger. Even though the Senju clan had fully integrated into the general population—and Hiruzen had strongly supported civilian ninja development—the major clans had also expanded their power.
By now, the village's internal structure had solidified.
Bringing about meaningful change and restoring Konoha to its former glory—the era of the First Hokage, when the other four great nations hadn't dared provoke conflict for twenty years—seemed nearly impossible.
Unless another powerhouse like Hashirama emerged.
Minato shook his head slightly. Since that path was closed, he could only focus on strengthening the entire village.
If managed carefully, introducing external changes could stimulate the major clans. And I could accomplish certain goals in the process.
But if they're too powerful, things might not proceed as I hope.
His attention fixed on Zenshu. He needed to understand more about this old man and his clan's background before making any judgments.
Orochimaru's thoughts ran in an entirely different direction. Compared to politics, he was far more interested in the strange traces covering Zenshu's body.
Strange. Truly too strange.
His snake pupils narrowed. His desire to explore had been thoroughly ignited.
Movement rippled through his wide sleeves. A massive swarm of snakes surged directly toward Zenshu.
A foul stench filled the air as venomous fangs gaped wide.
Zenshu's fingers twitched slightly.
The approaching snakes seemed to be struck by invisible sledgehammers, slamming into the ground one after another.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
They lashed against the floor like whips, driving into the earth as blood flowed freely.
Orochimaru's pupils contracted. No hand seals?
"A Kekkei Genkai? Is that your technique?"
"Wrong." Zenshu's voice remained unhurried. "This is merely Earth Release."
"Earth Release?" Orochimaru's tongue flicked across his lips. Excitement glinted in his eyes. "This doesn't resemble any ordinary Earth Release I've seen."
A new technique. Something he'd never encountered.
His body dropped low. His mouth opened impossibly wide.
Myriad Snake Net Formation!
A massive sea of thick, writhing serpents erupted forth, flooding the entire room and courtyard.
Crisp cracking sounds echoed continuously as snakes were crushed to pieces one by one.
A circle formed around Zenshu—six meters in diameter.
Any snake entering that range was instantly pulverized into bloody pulp.
"The effect resembles the Added-Weight Rock Technique." Orochimaru produced the Sword of Kusanagi, gripping it firmly.
The corpses and shattered bones of countless snakes piled high. Under the crushing pressure, they slid inward, surging toward Zenshu at the center.
"Good observation." Zenshu raised his right hand, forming a sword-finger pointed upward. "Then what about this?"
The six-meter circle underwent a subtle shift.
A force resembling anti-gravity repulsion erupted.
The bloody mud and bone fragments piled on the ground launched violently upward, flying into the sky before falling back down like crimson rain.
Snakes were launched as well. One managed to struggle, opening its mouth toward Zenshu—
The Sword of Kusanagi's blade shot forth from within, extending rapidly like a missile.
"Light-Weight Rock Technique?" Genuine surprise colored Orochimaru's voice. The sword in his hand had vanished.
CLANG.
The instant before the blade struck Zenshu, an invisible force deflected it entirely.
CRASH.
The Sword of Kusanagi embedded itself in the wall. The snake that had carried it burst into flesh and blood, painting the cracked surface red.
Zenshu clapped his hands slowly.
"To recognize the Light-Weight Rock Technique at a glance—your research talent truly is outstanding."
"The Light-Weight Rock Technique alters an object's mass. It cannot deflect the Sword of Kusanagi." Orochimaru's gaze sharpened. "I'm very curious how you obtained such a technique."
He glanced at the rain of bloody mud falling around them. The crushing and launching of the snakes still fit within the scope of Light-Weight and Added-Weight Rock Techniques.
But deflecting the Kusanagi? Those two jutsu couldn't possibly achieve that.
"The Light-Weight Rock Technique is merely B-rank Earth Release. Obtaining it isn't difficult." Zenshu snorted lightly. "As for the Added-Weight Rock Technique—they're two sides of the same coin. Surely you don't think this old man couldn't deduce one from the other?"
In truth, Zenshu had only acquired the Light-Weight Rock Technique. Deriving its counterpart had been trivially easy.
Both techniques suited Star Rage perfectly.
Star Rage granted virtual mass to oneself. This didn't truly alter body density—rather, it created a phantom weight that provided physical enhancement.
Because the mass was virtual, it carried minimal burden or negative impact. The upper limit was extraordinarily high. Nearly infinite.
Though the technique could only target oneself and earth, combining it with the Anti-Gravity System created something miraculous.
Zenshu extended his palm toward Orochimaru.
Two words, spoken softly.
"Black Hole."
Before Orochimaru could respond, force seized his entire body.
He rocketed toward Zenshu like a cannonball. A ring of black wave-light ignited around the extended palm.
SLAM.
Orochimaru crashed into Zenshu's hand. Fingers closed around his throat.
"This old man dislikes probing bit by bit." Zenshu's gaze was profound, his tone sepulchral. "You wanted to see my technique, didn't you?"
Orochimaru's skin tightened. His snake pupils contracted to golden slits. Every sense screamed frantic warnings.
"Then I'll show you."
Before the words finished, Orochimaru's mouth wrenched open. A pair of hands thrust violently outward. The sound of tearing fabric—no, flesh—filled the air.
RIIIP.
The Orochimaru in Zenshu's grip deflated like an empty sack. A dark figure shot free and landed on the ground—Orochimaru, covered in slime.
He half-crouched there, gasping heavily, recalling the sensation from moments ago.
Every cell in his body. Every fragment of his soul. All of them screaming in unified terror.
"What... exactly was that?" For the first time, Orochimaru's voice trembled.
Minato stood against the wall, shock written across his face. He'd never seen the always-composed Orochimaru-senpai in such a state.
Yet the scene felt familiar. It reminded him of facing that Domain Expansion: Metamorphosis of Form and Soul.
That feeling—where every cell seemed to possess its own will, frantically sounding alarms, warning of danger.
No matter how powerful someone was, the first time they experienced it, they'd be left utterly shaken.
"You want to know what this is?"
Zenshu held Orochimaru's shed skin in one hand. A smile spread across his aged features.
On that weathered face, combined with his eerie presence, the expression appeared absolutely terrifying.
Pale purple chakra ignited in his left hand.
Blue-white chakra blazed in his right.
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