Orochi couldn't help but recall his past...one of poverty and wandering.
His parents had died young, leaving him alone. To escape his wretched existence, he sought strength with feverish desperation. He built his life on a mask of villainy, flattering those above him, smiling even when others spat on his name.
To climb higher, he worked as the lowest servant in the Hakumai Daimyo's mansion. At the same time, the weight of the Kurozumi clan's survival pressed upon him. Most of the family had been scattered, hiding in the wilderness or living namelessly in towns.
He craved the pinnacle of power. Though aided by Kurozumi Higurashi, it was not her strings alone that carried him forward. Much of it was his own doing, his own acting, his own risks. Orochi had walked alone into the Shogun's palace, a tiger's den bristling with guards, relying only on himself. He hadn't even dared to sleep some nights.
And yet, he endured. With flawless deception and tireless effort, he wormed his way into the Shogun's court, earned recognition, built his own faction, and resurrected the Kurozumi name until today.
Looking over the Flower Capital from his balcony, Orochi smiled faintly. "Take a good look. After today, there will be no chance to see such beauty again."
Below him stretched thousands of samurai and ninja, standing in grim silence, awaiting his word.
"Hahaha! Such a beautiful Flower Capital—no, it cannot simply burn away. Even if it never truly belonged to me." Orochi spread his arms, his laughter echoing across the palace. "Enough delay! Let's go out and fight one final battle! Let the glory of the Kurozumi shine across Wano once more!"
"Yes, Lord Orochi!" the armies roared, their voices sharp with fatal resolve.
Leaving the palace, Orochi descended to the forces prepared for him, samurai and shinobi who bore the snake emblem of the Kurozumi. The Shogun's palanquin awaited him, crafted of agarwood, adorned with black and gold, the character for "serpent" embroidered boldly upon its curtains.
His intoxication was gone now. He sat upright, sober and sharp. Around him, his last faithful rallied.
An old swordsman emerged, clad in black kimono, a snake sigil upon his chest, blade at his waist. The troops parted reverently as he approached.
Orochi almost rose from the palanquin to greet him, but the elder waved him down. "No need. You are the head of the Kurozumi now, the Shogun of Wano. From this point on, the path is yours. Allow this old man to give one last service to the clan."
"Yes, senior." Orochi bowed his head deeply. This was no ordinary retainer, but a Great Swordsman of legendary skill, a survivor of the rebellion decades ago, one who had silently guarded the clan and Orochi's rise.
"Hah! Orochi, you will lead us. We are old and weary. To die in such a battle, that would be a fitting end!" Two middle-aged warriors strode forth, laughter booming. Both were Great Swordsmen as well.
Three Great Swordsmen, revealed at last. The Kurozumi clan's hidden trump cards. Their time had been short, their development cut off—but they had chosen to lend their strength entirely to Orochi.
Orochi laughed with them, joy swelling in his chest. For once, he felt it fully: he was the Shogun. He was the Kurozumi. He was Wano's ruler.
His aura burst forth, no longer concealed. To the shock of all, it was no weakling's pressure but a blade-edged will that cut at the air.
He had long pretended frailty, the better to be underestimated by Kozuki Sukiyaki. Now he revealed his true hand.
"Move out! We meet them outside the Flower Capital!" Orochi drew his sword, pointing it forward.
At his command, the legions marched. They all knew this was the end. No matter how hard they fought, they could not stand against the five Daimyo united, nor against Oden and his allies. But they went with heads high, resolved to fall in fire and blood.
On the other side, the Daimyo's armies had already assembled. Kozuki Sukiyaki rode at the head, joined by Shimotsuki Yasuie of Hakumai, Shimotsuki Ushimaru of Ringo, and the lords of the Fugetsu, Amatsuki, Uzuki, and Kuri. Their banners and troops stretched across the plain—over one hundred thousand samurai, more than Wano had seen gathered in centuries.
All their swords pointed toward a single enemy: the Kurozumi.
"I bear the blame," Sukiyaki admitted, voice low. "I trusted Orochi too easily. It was my folly that brought us here."
"Hah! Sukiyaki, this is not yours alone." Ushimaru laughed grimly. "The Kurozumi's ambition was festering long before. Our predecessors should have ended them outright, but mercy left them breathing. Today, we correct that mistake."
Sukiyaki nodded. But as he spoke further, his body betrayed him. His face drained pale; he coughed hard, sleeve staining with blood. The sight sent ripples of unease through the gathered host.
"Sukiyaki, are you—?"
"Hahaha, I am fine!" the old Shogun forced a grin. "Much better than before. To stand here at all is a blessing."
But worry lingered in the Daimyo's eyes.
"When will Oden return? We must wait for him."
And then... a shout rose. A ripple through the army.
"Lord Oden is back!"
At once, the words spread like wildfire. Cheers erupted across the lines. Heads turned. And there he was, Oden, riding his Flame Deer, laughing and waving, with Whitebeard's massive figure thundering behind him and a thousand pirates at his back.
"Are these Oden's companions…?" Sukiyaki murmured, eyes narrowing at the towering Whitebeard and his fearsome crew.
The Kuri samurai cried out, their joy unrestrained. Kin'emon, Denjiro, the retainers, all roared in welcome.
"Hahaha! At last, I am home!" Oden's laughter rolled like thunder.
Whitebeard strode easily beside him, Marco's phoenix flames dwindling as he landed at his father's side. And then came Teach—perched on the Wild Boar King, Mobius, Peto, and Voss at his side. The beast panted, its bulk trembling, but Teach only grinned, patting its back.
"Good job, little piggy. You're free now."
The Wild Boar King bellowed with relief, stomped once, and bolted into the forest, never to return.
One after another, the Whitebeard Pirates arrived, running, riding, dragging makeshift sleds pulled by beasts. The samurai armies parted, leaving space for them. Thousands of eyes stared at these outsiders, marveling at their strange dress, strange powers, strange flames.
"Father, are you alright?" Oden hurried to Sukiyaki, brows furrowed.
"Haha, do not worry, my son. I am content. You… you have grown strong. Strong enough to inherit Wano."
Oden shook his head. "No. Not yet. Among my companions is a doctor who can cure you. I will not lose you, Father."
Whitebeard's rumbling laugh followed. "Our doctor is ready. Let him take a look."
Sukiyaki stepped back, reassured. The Daimyo exhaled, but their eyes remained sharp.
And then, a roar of commotion from the Flower Capital. Black-clad masses poured forth, samurai, shinobi, and the infamous Oniwabanshu. Orochi's forces had arrived, marching to their final stand.
The war for Wano was about to begin.