Chapter 120: The Renegade Grass Ninja, Part II
"Sakumo, go intercept the fleeing ninja. Leave these ones to me!" After leaving this command, Orochimaru, without waiting for the five pursuing ninja below to react, leaped down. He traversed the terraced fields with light, agile steps, like a dragonfly skimming the water, instantly accelerating his speed to the maximum.
Sakumo gave a deep look at the Demon Blade Muramasa in Orochimaru's hand and then dashed off in the direction of the escaping ninja.
Orochimaru, in his black traveler's coat, trailed a black streak and afterimage in his rapid run. The incomparably sharp and malevolent Demon Blade Muramasa, shrouded in a mass of inky black killing aura, complemented the black killing aura giant serpent coiling behind Orochimaru. From a distance, it didn't look like a single person running, but rather a giant python quickly weaving and slithering.
In just three breaths, Orochimaru was directly in front of the five pursuing ninja.
Only after Orochimaru closed the distance did the ninja finally snap out of the powerful, illusion-like killing aura. Seeing Orochimaru's murderously intent figure, their already ashen expressions turned a few shades paler.
Ninja from small nations do not possess high combat discipline. Immediately, the ninja at the back turned and bolted, attempting to flee.
A cold, disdainful smile curled into a wicked arc on Orochimaru's lips as he watched. The inky-black Muramasa in his hand seemed to sense the imminent taste of blood, trembling and buzzing incessantly.
Orochimaru quickened his steps, executing several lightning-fast short bursts of movement. He instantly arrived before a ninja whose eyes were wide, pupils constricted, and face etched with incomparable terror. The demon blade slashed upwards from below, tracing a tragic and breathtaking arc.
Pfft—
The sound of a long blade cutting into flesh rang out. The incomparably sharp Muramasa instantly sliced the terror-stricken ninja in two.
Due to the blade's extreme sharpness and speed, it wasn't until two seconds after Orochimaru had struck that the ninja's eyeballs rolled. Then, the air seemed to open up a blood-red fountain. Crimson blood mixed with white brain matter, along with shattered organs and intestines, instantly sprayed over the ground.
Orochimaru had already moved on to the next target.
The Muramasa, its blade entirely encased in a thick black killing aura, now that it had drunk blood, emitted a faint, eerie blood-red glow. This sinister mix of red and black radiated a captivating magnetism, while the deepest evil within became more restrained, terrifying, and powerful.
In Orochimaru's hands, the frameworks of the Hatake's Deceptive Blade Style and Supreme Blade Style, combined with all of Orochimaru's sword experience from his previous life, were slowly coalescing into his own unique sword style and school: sinister and dominant, like a venomous serpent lunging from its lair, or a giant python rolling over to devour its prey, delivering the quickest, sharpest strike at the enemy's most vulnerable and fatal point.
While this unique Orochimaru-style Kenjutsu was still somewhat nascent, it was rapidly perfecting and maturing in real combat.
The evil black and red blade-light cut streaks of eerie, magnificent light among the ninja. Reflected by the wicked smile of disdain and amusement on Orochimaru's face, the blade was like the long, narrow scythe being wielded by the God of Death, with every swing harvesting a meager life.
The black and red blade-light sliced through the air, bringing an invitation to hell and a dying shiver. Like a deer hanging its horns or a celestial horse flying unbridled, five strokes flashed.
There were no screams; they didn't have time to scream.
Five cuts. Orochimaru struck only five times, and he only needed five strikes to completely slaughter the five pursuing ninja.
Orochimaru stood there, his eyes slightly narrowed, quickly recalling and organizing the insights and gains from the recent combat. The Demon Blade Muramasa, still dripping crimson blood, and the bloody slaughterhouse scene behind him, formed a backdrop like a brush-and-ink painting of hell, making Orochimaru's figure appear even taller and more imposing.
When Orochimaru came back to his senses, he realized the surviving villagers around him had all dropped to their knees.
Orochimaru said nothing, unwilling to bother with them. He pushed off the ground, activating the Chakra Enhanced Speed (Ninjutsu footwork), and ran toward the fleeing ninja.
Interception
After about five minutes, Orochimaru finally sensed the burst of chakra fluctuations ahead.
Getting closer, he saw Sakumo and the blood-soaked fleeing ninja engaged in a fierce, mobile battle in the forest.
The constant metallic clash of "Cling! Clang!" rang out. Sakumo had fully committed, drawing his White Light Blade.
Orochimaru concentrated his gaze. Sakumo's Hatake Flash Blade Style lived up to its name, arriving and disappearing in an instant, cutting arcs of brilliant blue-purple light through the air.
The fleeing ninja's weapon, however, somewhat surprised Orochimaru: it was a simple surgical knife. Although it looked ordinary, the pale-blue chakra blade extending from its edge let Orochimaru know it was a respectable chakra weapon.
The two constantly clashed in the air, their meeting points erupting in blinding sparks and fierce edges.
Sakumo's strength was, after all, slightly inferior to that of the renegade ninja, who had managed to survive a pursuit by seven or eight other ninja. It was only the renegade's caution concerning the White Light Blade's sharpness that allowed Sakumo to hold him up for this brief time.
Orochimaru said nothing. His entire form transformed into a ghostly black shadow that instantly appeared before the renegade ninja. The black and red Muramasa, at an angle and speed neither of the other two anticipated, was menacingly held against the renegade ninja's neck.
The scene instantly fell silent, and in that instant, it was completely controlled by Orochimaru.
Sakumo sheathed his blade and stood behind Orochimaru.
Orochimaru's right hand, holding the blade, was incredibly steady, without a single tremor, resting perfectly against the ninja's neck.
The black and red Muramasa, still stained with crimson blood, spat out black and red blade-light and killing aura, constantly trembling against the ninja's neck, seemingly expressing its reluctance and anger that Orochimaru would not allow it to be soaked in this man's blood.
The black and red blade edge pressed into the ninja's neck, and a malevolent force seemed to accelerate the blood flow throughout the ninja's body. The arteries in his neck were abnormally thick and red, veins bulging, as if the blood in his neck would pour out like a burst floodgate in the next instant.
This bizarre and terrifying sensation couldn't help but intensify the renegade ninja's fear. Despite his polished camouflage and powerful self-control, he couldn't prevent a trace of this great terror, this great dread of facing death, from appearing in the depths of his eyes.
And the moment his eyes met Orochimaru's dark-golden gaze, that fear was completely captured by Orochimaru.
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