Chapter 85: The Shinigami's Gaze
The top of the watchtower had become a crucible of elemental fury. The air itself was a battlefield, thick with the steam of evaporating water and the acrid scent of scorched earth.
The clash of titans continued. On one side, a deluge capable of drowning mountains; on the other, an inferno hot enough to boil the seas. The Water and Fire Styles of the Second and Third Hokage collided with explosive force, neither able to gain a decisive advantage.
In truth, this stalemate was a testament to the Third's skill. The reanimated Hokage, stripped of their cunning and forced to rely on instinct and basic commands, could not bring their full might to bear. Yet, even hobbled, they were a force of nature.
"To perform a Water Style of that magnitude without a single water source… it's unbelievable," one of the Anbu outside the barrier muttered, his voice filled with awe. The Second Hokage wasn't just using water; he was creating it, his chakra control so sublime it defied the very environment.
"Indeed. As expected of a former Hokage," his partner replied, the words heavy with grim respect.
Even the arrogant Orochimaru had to acknowledge the raw power on display. The level of strength possessed by the Second was enough to make even him wary.
After blocking the Third's fiery assault, the Second Hokage shifted seamlessly into a counterattack. His hands formed another series of seals.
"Water Style: Water Dragon Bullet Technique!"
A colossal volume of water materialized from the Second's chakra, churning and coalescing into a roaring, serpentine dragon. It was a tidal wave given form, a crushing, overwhelming force that surged toward the Third Hokage with the intent to obliterate everything in its path.
The Third's expression tightened. Facing such a monumental force, he felt like a lone skiff in a typhoon. One misstep, and he would be swallowed by the storm.
But he was the Professor. His mind, sharp as ever, analyzed the threat in an instant. His hands moved, weaving the seals for an Earth Style jutsu.
"Earth Style: Earth-Style Wall!"
He spat forth a stream of viscous, liquid earth that erupted from the floor, hardening into a massive, formidable wall. The roaring water dragon slammed against it with tremendous force, but the earthen barrier held, the two elements canceling each other out in a great spray of mud and mist.
Another draw.
The prolonged stalemate caused a frown to crease Orochimaru's brow. He had not expected the old man to possess such stamina, to hold his own against a legend without faltering. He wanted a quick, decisive end, not a war of attrition.
Aizen, the silent spectator, shared the sentiment. Though he could clearly see the Third Hokage's breathing was becoming labored, his movements slightly slower—the inevitable toll of age—this drawn-out conflict was beginning to bore him. It was inefficient.
It was then that the First Hokage finally moved.
"Ninjutsu: Sacred Tree Bindings!"
Hashirama Senju brought his hands together. Instantly, the very floor of the watchtower erupted with life as thick, powerful vines and tree roots burst forth, weaving a dense, canopy-like net that sought to ensnare and crush the Third Hokage. The sheer, overwhelming vitality of the technique instantly reversed the momentum, pressing the Third back.
"Summoning Jutsu!"
With a puff of smoke, the Third Hokage called upon his own ally. A monstrous figure appeared—a giant, hideous ape with a burly frame and a fierce, evil aura.
"The Ape King, Enma," Orochimaru sneered, his contempt for the old summon evident.
"So, it's you, Orochimaru. Letting you live was the Hokage's one great mistake," Enma growled, his sharp eyes taking in the dire situation. Understanding passed between summon and master in a single glance. In a flash of light, Enma transformed into a solid, extendable Adamantine Staff.
Wielding the powerful staff, the Third Hokage lunged, his speed bolstered by desperation, striking at Orochimaru.
CLANG!
Orochimaru met the assault with the Kusanagi Sword drawn from his own throat. The clashing of weapons rang out, a frantic dance of steel. But the Third was old, and his strength was waning. He gradually lost ground, his defense becoming more desperate.
Seeing that brute force would not win the day, a final, desperate plan formed in the Third Hokage's mind. A forbidden technique, one that demanded the ultimate price.
POOF! POOF!
Two shadow clones appeared beside him, a seemingly foolish expenditure of his dwindling chakra.
"Heh, you've truly lost your mind, old man. Wasting your precious energy like this," Orochimaru taunted, confident in his impending victory.
The Third ignored him. His eyes held a final, unshakeable resolve. His hands came together, forming a sequence of seals that spoke of finality and death.
"Ram → Boar → Horse → Hare → Ram → Boar → Horse → Hare → Ram!"
The Dead Demon Consuming Seal!
A profound stillness fell over the watchtower. The very air grew heavy and cold, the light dimming as if a shroud had been thrown over the sun. A sinister, chilling aura permeated the double-layered barrier, a feeling of absolute, soul-rending finality.
"This is…" Aizen's composed expression finally shifted. He looked up, his eyes focusing on the space above the Third Hokage, a spark of genuine interest igniting within them. He felt a presence—a potent, spiritual force that resonated with the very concept of death.
Behind the Third Hokage, a terrifying apparition began to materialize. It was a translucent figure with long, wild hair, a ghastly white robe, and a grotesque, demonic face. A single, short knife was clenched in its teeth, and its eyes were hollow, bottomless pits of darkness.
The moment this entity appeared, a single name echoed in the mind of every being present: Shinigami.
Orochimaru's confidence shattered, replaced by a primal, gut-wrenching fear. He felt, with absolute certainty, that this Death God could and would devour his very soul.
Yet, the Shinigami did not immediately move to claim its prize. Its drooping head slowly lifted. Its hollow, soulless eyes drifted past the terrified Orochimaru, past the reanimated Hokage, and fixed upon the one figure who stood with calm indifference behind them all.
There, Aizen Sōsuke stood gracefully, meeting the gaze of the god of death.
And when the Shinigami, an entity powerful enough to terrify every other soul present, locked eyes with Aizen, a tremor seemed to pass through its spectral form. A flicker of something alien to it—recognition, and then, fear. It was the natural, bottom-up soul coercion of a subordinate being in the presence of its true master.
Aizen, who had once stood at the pinnacle of all Shinigami, suppressed the summoned Death God with nothing more than the weight of his invisible, kingly aura.