An aura of dark despair radiated from the left hand, while the right emitted a cleansing presence that purified everything—brimming with vibrant vitality.
From the bloody ground and surroundings, wisps of black-purple chakra drifted upward. The energy was peculiar, gathering toward the dark chakra in Zenshu's left palm.
Images of frantically writhing snake remnants coalesced within the purple-black light, gradually condensing into a serpent of pure shadow.
Orochimaru's gaze fixed on the scene. Shock flickered across his features.
He sensed something familiar in that black snake. A technique surfaced in his mind.
"Spirit Transformation Technique?"
The sensation did resemble a manifested soul—but this was absolutely not the Spirit Transformation Technique.
"Using the chakra of dead snakes to fabricate a soul?" Excitement crept into Orochimaru's deep voice. The possessiveness in his eyes was barely concealed. "Is this your technique?"
Zenshu didn't answer. He simply activated the blue-white chakra in his right hand.
The deflated shed skin instantly swelled. Another Orochimaru rapidly took form.
In the blink of an eye, an identical body wearing familiar clothes stood on the ground.
"Since you want to see my technique so badly—experience it yourself."
As his words fell, Zenshu threw the black snake into the reconstructed body. Its eyes snapped open—pitch black and soulless.
"Hisss... Bastard... I'll kill you... Hahaha, I am Orochimaru... You who only uses me as fodder—die..."
Overlapping, contradictory voices spilled from its mouth. The moment this black-souled Orochimaru was released, it attacked.
Its jaw unhinged impossibly wide. A small snake covered in steel-like scales shot forth.
Orochimaru dodged with a sidestep, shock rippling through him. A rumble sounded behind him as the wall collapsed, dust billowing outward.
How did he do it? How could the soul adapt to the body so seamlessly?
He licked his lips. His golden pupils shone with peculiar light.
He was looking at a perfect experimental specimen—and the possessiveness was almost ecstatic.
Chakra saturated with cold, gloomy intent erupted domineeringly.
Without holding back, Orochimaru charged at his doppelganger.
This time, his attacks were decisive. A massive white-scaled snake coiled instantly around the black-souled copy.
Though the fabricated Orochimaru possessed muscle memory and serpentine combat instincts—making its close-quarters ability arguably superior—coordinated ninjutsu combinations quickly overwhelmed it.
Seizing an opening, Orochimaru sealed its chakra with a single precise strike.
Not a corpse. A living physical body. Exactly like mine.
His eyes brightened sharply.
He produced bandages in bulk, binding the black-souled body completely. A sealing jutsu rendered it immobile.
Hand seals formed.
Poof.
Two snake clones appeared in the smoke, grabbed the excellent specimen, and executed Reverse Summoning.
Orochimaru rose slowly, regarding Zenshu—whose face had grown noticeably pale.
This was truly a grand gift.
It seems Konoha also possesses experimental materials he wants.
Orochimaru resumed his cold, practiced smile.
To someone who dared modify their own body, both of them understood exactly how precious a vessel identical to one's own—one capable of housing a soul—truly was.
The gift couldn't have been given without purpose. Considering the battlefield intelligence and Zenshu's current attitude...
Orochimaru dispensed with pretense entirely.
"Senior, would you like to come to Konoha? Take a look at my research."
Beside him, Minato's pupils contracted in shock.
What's happening? Wasn't I the one here to recruit him?
His thoughts raced through the battle just witnessed and that sealed, black-eyed 'Orochimaru.' A judgment crystallized instantly.
These two had very likely completed a secret negotiation right under his nose—and had perhaps already exchanged terms.
What should I do? Continue trying to recruit him?
Hesitation flickered through him. Though he deeply respected Orochimaru-senpai, the man remained a competitor. That couldn't change.
His gaze shifted to Zenshu, settling on that deathly pale face.
Blood trickled from Zenshu's nostrils—then transformed into faint blue chakra light and vanished.
Using the shed skin's cellular tissue to reconstruct a complete physical body had consumed considerable chakra. Fabricating the soul had been equally draining.
This had clearly exacerbated his physical pain and cellular deterioration.
But if he'd wanted to hide it, Zenshu could have forced the blood to dissipate within his nasal cavity.
He simply hadn't.
Minato's instincts stirred. He stepped forward.
"Senior Zenshu, there has been some misunderstanding between us regarding the seven ninja swords."
"But after learning about your clan, Konoha genuinely welcomes you."
"Moreover, I believe that after more than thirty years of research, you and your people cannot remain in obscurity forever."
"If three decades of sacrifice only results in anonymity—what meaning did that perseverance hold?"
"You need a stage. You need prestige like the Byakugan and Sharingan command. Something to honor those thirty years of dedication."
Zenshu regarded the eloquent young Jonin.
"These thirty years indeed cannot be meaningless. But why must it be Konoha?"
A confident smile touched Minato's lips. His entire presence radiated like a small sun.
"Because Konoha is the victor of this war. In the coming years, there will be sufficient peace and resources for your younger generation to grow safely."
"After all, no matter how superb a technique may be—without successors who've matured to inherit it, its power cannot be unleashed."
"Your eloquence is impressive." Zenshu's expression remained cold. "But empty words cannot sway this old man. Return and discuss a sincere proposal with your Hokage. Then it may not be impossible for me to agree."
Only at the end did his gaze grow distant—deliberately lonely.
"After all... not many of the younger generation remain."
"Now. This old man must rest. I hope next time won't be more empty promises."
Seeing himself dismissed, Minato could only bow respectfully and turn toward the exit.
Orochimaru was already impatient to return and begin his research. At the main gate, he paused and glanced back at Zenshu.
His lips moved slightly, forming silent words.
Then he departed.
Zenshu sat on the wooden floor. A sinister smile gradually spread across his features.
"Welcome me joining?"
Outside the stone cave, Fugaku Uchiha breathed a slight sigh of relief as Orochimaru and Minato emerged.
The Hyuga ninjas beside him had already stepped forward impatiently, eager to learn whether Hyuga Soka had been abducted by these people.
"Quiet down." Minato shook his head. "Return to camp. The next course of action must be reported to the village. Lord Hokage will decide."
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