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"Damn it! Shit!" Orochimaru's face twisted as he watched the scene unfold. He hadn't expected something like this to happen, and now—whether he liked it or not—he shared responsibility for Nawaki's death.
"Tsunade, pull yourself together. I'll draw him off first." Orochimaru's brows furrowed, his expression ice cold as he glared at Hayato. In the next instant, he unleashed a flurry of jutsu, deliberately pulling the monster's attention onto himself. Once Hayato locked on to him, Orochimaru spun around and bolted, leading him away.
After losing his mind, Hayato was like some mindless raid boss from a video game—whoever stacked the most "aggro" became his target. That explained why he'd been charging toward Konoha earlier: the sheer number of people there confused his hatred, making it harder to lure him off.
But now, Orochimaru had him. He sprinted in the opposite direction, toward the trap they'd set beforehand. Despite everything, he and the Konoha shinobi weren't giving up on the chance to capture Hayato alive. His transformed state—like some berserk, green giant—was simply too powerful. Just one man could swing the tide of a battlefield. It was like wielding a tailed beast. Any village that had one would instantly become a threat to the rest.
Hayato was successfully led away, but Tsunade remained collapsed on the ground. She sat there, frozen, staring blankly at the two mangled pools of flesh before her. Her body trembled uncontrollably. Nawaki might have survived the Second Great War, but he hadn't escaped the Third. And this time, there wasn't even a body left to bury. The same went for Dan Katō . Two people who meant the world to her, gone in the most brutal way possible. It wasn't hard to imagine what state she was in.
"Tsunade! Tsunade, I'm here! What happened to you?!" Jiraiya finally arrived, having originally intended to chase after the chaos Hayato had caused. But the moment he spotted Tsunade collapsed on the ground, he rushed straight to her side.
"They're dead… dead! They're all dead!" Tsunade's voice came out dry and cracked, trembling with fear.
"Huh? Who's dead? What…?" Jiraiya's eyes fell on the two pools of blood and flesh in front of her, and he froze in shock.
"Nawaki… and Dan. They… they're both dead."
"What?" Jiraiya's eyes widened. He finally understood why Tsunade was like this. Just the sight alone was enough to break anyone.
Meanwhile, Orochimaru kept hurling jutsu at Hayato—fire, wind, lightning, earth, water. He had mastery over all five elements, and he tried them one by one, hoping to find even the slightest weakness. But nothing worked. Every attack landed the same way: either it bounced off harmlessly, or the wounds healed almost instantly.
"After he transforms, not only does his strength skyrocket, but his defense is insane too. Even ninjutsu barely scratches him? Aside from losing his mind, this body really is… perfection." Orochimaru muttered under his breath, eyes gleaming with morbid fascination. Still, admiration didn't mean safety.
Even stripped of reason, Hayato's sheer power was overwhelming. His massive size slowed him down somewhat, but each strike carried enough force to crush anything in its path. Orochimaru darted back and forth, launching attacks while desperately dodging swings that could flatten him in an instant. His movements were far less composed now—borderline frantic, even.
"Hah!"
A massive fist came out of nowhere, and before Orochimaru could dodge, Hayato's punch slammed into him. In an instant, Orochimaru was sent flying and crashed heavily into the ground. His body looked like it had been completely shattered by that blow—but he wasn't dead.
Instead, his mouth split open, and a pale hand stretched out from deep inside him. The sight was so unsettling it felt like something straight out of a horror film.
It was Orochimaru's Substitution Jutsu—the signature technique of his twisted style. Practically flawless, really, except for how much chakra it burned through. Well, that, and the fact that it made your stomach churn just watching it. And if you had to pick one more flaw… it was just a little too slow.
The hand crawling out of his mouth was unnaturally pale, almost corpse-like. The fingers looked long and delicate—the kind you'd expect on a concert pianist in a peaceful world. But slick with saliva, the whole thing looked disturbingly slimy.
"Raaagh!" Hayato roared, charging forward. He swung at Orochimaru's head with another devastating punch. What good was a perfect Substitution Jutsu if it was this slow? By the time Orochimaru's body finished crawling out, Hayato could smash his skull in.
Splurt! Slither!
Just as Shun's fist came crashing down, Orochimaru's true body shot out of his own mouth at an unnerving speed, slipping away from the attack. His discarded shell shattered under Shun's punch with a dull thud.
Maybe it was because Shun's strikes were so fast, Orochimaru had been forced to speed up his jutsu beyond normal limits. He'd practically spilled out of his own throat, body limp and writhing like a snake.
The moment Hayato saw Orochimaru escaping, he stomped down hard and lunged after him.
But Orochimaru didn't even try to stand upright. He slithered across the ground in a rapid S-shaped crawl, moving exactly like a snake.
Hayato gave chase, snatching up whatever was within reach—a boulder, a tree trunk, anything he could get his hands on—and hurled them at Orochimaru with terrifying force. A rock smashed into the earth where Orochimaru had just been; a whole tree was ripped from the ground and flung at him like a spear.
Orochimaru twisted and dodged each one, but he couldn't escape the dirt and debris. By now, his once-white clothes were smeared with mud, their original color completely lost.
"....."