GarudaTranslation
patreon
[Naruto Grandfather] Chapter 146 - 150
🕑 Added 2025-01-30 01:00:02 +0000 UTCChapter 146
“He is strong!” Orochimaru declared, his voice uncharacteristically serious as he emphasized every word. “As long as you are strong enough, true immortality is within reach.”
Danzo froze for a moment upon hearing this, his expression shifting into one of realization. It was as if a puzzle piece had clicked into place. Orochimaru noticed this reaction and raised a curious eyebrow.
“What’s this, Danzo? Have you already had such thoughts? Or perhaps you’ve heard something similar before?” Orochimaru’s tone carried a mixture of intrigue and suspicion.
Danzo shook his head and responded calmly, “Not exactly. I haven’t heard this before, but I’ve had similar thoughts in the past. Your words simply confirm my suspicions.”
Orochimaru’s interest deepened. It wasn’t often that someone like Danzo made such an admission. Smiling slyly, he decided to probe further.
“Is that so?” Orochimaru said, his voice soft and coaxing. “Then, Danzo, what are your plans for achieving this strength? Surely, someone as calculating as you must already have a strategy in mind.”
Danzo sneered at the suggestion, his lips curling into a bitter smile. “Plans? Why should I waste time on such futile things?”
His tone sharpened as he continued, “Do you really think that ordinary human effort can elevate one to the level of Uzumaki Chito? No. For people like you and me—lacking special bloodlines—even obtaining the power of the First Hokage is nearly impossible.”
“Let alone matching Uzumaki Chito.”
Orochimaru’s smirk faltered. Danzo’s words were blunt and uncomfortably truthful. Even he, once hailed as a prodigy by the Third Hokage, had faced insurmountable limitations. Despite years of relentless research and training, Orochimaru had been humiliated by a young Uchiha Itachi due to a single flaw in his plan.
And though he had redoubled his efforts since that day, he had still fallen short of the kind of strength required for true immortality. Uzumaki Chito’s power remained a tantalizing, unreachable dream. For someone like Danzo, whose talents paled in comparison, the odds seemed even bleaker.
As Orochimaru considered this, a shadow of gloom passed over him. In this world, there was no greater torment than seeing a glimmer of hope yet being unable to seize it.
But even so, compared to Danzo, Orochimaru still had one advantage—a forbidden jutsu.
Edo Tensei.
Of course, such knowledge was not something he intended to share. Instead, he let out a mocking laugh and taunted Danzo.
“So, are you giving up already, Danzo-sama?” Orochimaru asked, his tone dripping with derision.
Danzo rose slowly, his back turned to Orochimaru as he began walking toward the exit of the laboratory. His voice remained calm but carried a steely determination.
“Give up? Never.”
“I’ve spent my life doing whatever it took to claim the position of Hokage,” Danzo said, his words steady and resolute. “It’s in my nature.”
“And now, with a new goal in mind, I’ll use that same resolve to achieve it—no matter the cost.”
He paused at the doorway, glancing over his shoulder. “Wait and see, Orochimaru. I will attain the power Uzumaki Chito spoke of—before you, before anyone.”
With that, Danzo disappeared, his voice echoing in the room long after he had gone.
Orochimaru stood silently for a moment, his head tilted slightly as if processing Danzo’s final words. Then, a low chuckle escaped his lips, growing into a full, unrestrained laugh.
“Ah, Danzo,” Orochimaru said, his voice filled with amusement. “You’ve always been a man who doesn’t know when to quit.”
“But to think you’d dare to believe you could surpass me—how entertaining!” Orochimaru’s laughter echoed through the chamber, carrying with it an edge of cold malice. “We’ll see who achieves immortality first!”
Hidden in the shadows, Kabuto observed his master, his eyes alight with a strange fanaticism. He murmured to himself, “Yes… This is the Orochimaru-sama I know. Unwavering, confident, and relentless. This is the one I’ve chosen to follow.”
But Kabuto’s reverie was short-lived. Orochimaru’s laughter abruptly ceased, and his serpentine eyes locked onto Kabuto with a piercing gaze. The room’s temperature seemed to drop as Orochimaru spoke.
“Kabuto,” he hissed, his tone sharp and commanding. “Your work as a spy is about to begin again.”
Kabuto stiffened, his earlier enthusiasm replaced with dread. Orochimaru’s instructions left no room for negotiation.
“Change your appearance and infiltrate Konoha,” Orochimaru continued. “Keep a close watch on Danzo. I want to know every move he makes in his quest for immortality.”
“More importantly,” Orochimaru’s lips curled into a wicked smile, “if the opportunity arises, it would be quite satisfying to snatch the fruits of his efforts right from under his nose.”
Kabuto’s expression soured at the command. As perhaps the most skilled spy in the ninja world, he understood all too well the dangers of this mission. Infiltrating Danzo’s operations would be nothing short of a living hell.
But under Orochimaru’s cold, unyielding gaze, Kabuto knew he had no choice. Bowing his head, he took a deep breath and replied, “Yes, Orochimaru-sama. I’ll delegate my current responsibilities and leave for Konoha immediately.”
Kabuto hesitated for a moment before adding, “But before I go, there’s something you should know.”
Orochimaru tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his yellow eyes. “Oh? And what’s that?”
Kabuto’s voice dropped slightly as he delivered the news. “While you were away, Sasuke Uchiha returned to the base.”
“He asked me to relay a message: He needs more power. Enough power to defeat Naruto Uzumaki.”
Kabuto’s gaze darkened as he finished. “And he said he’s willing to do whatever it takes to obtain it.”
Chapter 147
“Defeat Naruto Uzumaki?” Orochimaru let out a sharp laugh, his voice echoing through the dimly lit chamber.
“Sasuke... is this guy out of his mind?” he sneered. “Naruto Uzumaki isn’t even a challenge for me now, and yet Sasuke thinks he can defeat him? It’s...”
“Stupid!”
Kabuto, standing nearby with his head slightly bowed, chuckled softly. “I wouldn’t say that, Orochimaru-sama,” he replied, his tone measured. “After all, Sasuke is an Uchiha. Unlike us ordinary people, it’s only natural for him to be arrogant and refuse to admit defeat.”
Orochimaru’s expression shifted, a strange glint in his golden eyes. He laughed again, this time more subdued, and said with a touch of complexity, “Indeed. He’s an Uchiha, after all—prideful and arrogant.”
“But in the face of someone like Uzumaki Chito, what is there for the Uchiha to be proud of? If Sasuke can’t recognize that, he’ll never be able to defeat Naruto.”
Orochimaru paused, his smirk returning. “Still, you’re not wrong. He’s an Uchiha, and that makes him... useful, at the very least.”
“Well then,” Orochimaru said, his voice laced with amusement as he rose to his feet. “I suppose I should pay him a visit.”
With a leisurely step, Orochimaru made his way to the room where Sasuke was staying. As he approached the door, muffled grunts of pain reached his ears. Orochimaru didn’t need to see inside to imagine Sasuke’s condition—wracked with agony and frustration.
Boom!
Orochimaru kicked the door open, striding into the room with a bright, almost mocking smile. His tone was cheerful, yet cutting as he greeted Sasuke. “Well, well, isn’t this our dear Uchiha orphan? Looking rather pitiful, aren’t we? Another failure, perhaps?”
The mocking words pierced Sasuke like a blade. His head snapped up, his dark eyes burning with rage as he glared at Orochimaru. “Orochimaru,” he growled through clenched teeth, “I swear I’ll kill you one day!”
Orochimaru’s smile didn’t waver, but his demeanor changed in an instant. In a blur of movement, he appeared before Sasuke and drove his fist into the younger man’s abdomen with brutal force.
CRACK!
The sickening sound of ribs breaking filled the air as Sasuke’s body slammed into the wall, his breath escaping in a choked gasp.
“Sasuke-kun,” Orochimaru said, his voice low and venomous, “it seems I’ve allowed you to misunderstand our relationship. Let me correct that.”
He leaned in closer, his golden, snake-like eyes narrowing. “I detest arrogance—especially when it’s directed at me. I suggest you remember that, or you won’t live long enough to even think about killing me.”
Blood dripped from Sasuke’s mouth as he crumpled to the floor, his breathing labored. But even in his weakened state, his eyes burned with fury. The crimson glow of his three-tomoe Sharingan swirled wildly, a testament to his unyielding resolve.
Orochimaru observed him with detached amusement. “Good,” he remarked, his tone laced with condescension. “You still have some fight left in you. That’s promising.”
He turned away, his expression indifferent. “Someone will be along shortly to tend to your injuries. However, if you truly want to become stronger, you’ll have to pay a price.”
Sasuke gritted his teeth and forced himself to his feet, his voice low but firm. “What price?”
Orochimaru’s cold laughter echoed through the room. “Corpses,” he replied simply. “I need more corpses of strong individuals.”
“For every corpse you bring me, I’ll give you access to their power for a month. During that time, you can fight them, study them—do whatever you wish.”
Orochimaru’s smirk widened. “And just as a friendly suggestion, the strongest individuals suited to you would undoubtedly be the Uchiha clan. If you’re serious about growing stronger...”
He leaned closer, his voice dripping with malice. “Go dig up your clan’s graves and bring them to me!”
His laughter rang out, cruel and unrelenting. “Hahahaha!”
As Orochimaru reveled in his own twisted humor, his mind turned to his obsession with the Uchiha. His thoughts grew darker, more resolute.
Uchiha Itachi, Orochimaru thought bitterly, I finally understand. The so-called Uchiha bloodline is nothing but a stepping stone. Soon, I will gather the strength of generations past and create a power that is truly my own. And with it, I’ll take my revenge on you!
With that, Orochimaru left the room without a backward glance, his laughter fading into the distance. Sasuke remained behind, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
“Orochimaru... Naruto Uzumaki... Uchiha Itachi...” he whispered, repeating the names over and over like a mantra. Each name was etched into his mind like carvings on stone, leaving an indelible mark.
With every repetition, his eyes grew colder, his expression harder. By the end, his face was devoid of emotion, a chilling reflection of his growing hatred.
Soon after, a medic from Orochimaru’s base arrived to treat Sasuke’s injuries. The process was swift and efficient, but Sasuke wasted no time. As soon as his wounds were stable, he left the base with a clear objective in mind.
His destination: the Uchiha ancestral land at Naka River.
Three days later, Sasuke returned to Orochimaru’s lair. His clothes were tattered, his face smeared with dirt and exhaustion. But in his arms, he carried sixteen urns—each containing the ashes of a fallen Uchiha.
He marched into Orochimaru’s chamber and slammed the urns down with a resolute glare. “Orochimaru,” he said, his voice steady but filled with venom, “the names of the Uchiha who left their mark on history and the remains from their ancestral graves—here they are.”
“Now use your disgusting jutsu to summon them for me. I’m going to get stronger.”
For a moment, Orochimaru stared at the urns in stunned silence. Then his lips twisted into a wicked smile, and his eyes glinted with an unsettling mix of admiration and malice.
“Sasuke,” Orochimaru murmured, “I underestimated you.”
“You truly are... ruthless.”
Chapter 148
“Edo Tensei!”
In Orochimaru’s research base, smoke and dust swirled as sixteen coffins, wrapped in glowing psychic runes, emerged from the ground with an ominous rumble. The runes on the coffin lids faded, and with a sharp boom, the lids flew off.
One by one, sixteen figures stepped out of the coffins, their scarlet Sharingan spinning ominously as they scanned the room. Their cold, arrogant expressions seemed to pierce through everything in their sight.
Twelve of them wore the battle-scarred ninja armor of the Warring States Period, each dent and scrape telling the story of fierce battles fought long ago. An overwhelming aura of murderous intent poured out of their bodies, a silent declaration of their power and existence.
Sixteen pairs of Sharingan gleamed like cold blades, surveying every inch of the room and the people within it. When their eyes fell on Sasuke Uchiha’s clothing and the Uchiha clan emblem emblazoned on his back, a faint warmth returned to their gazes.
They exchanged glances, their expressions shifting subtly as they quickly reached a silent understanding. Among them, the most powerful Uchiha stepped forward, his piercing gaze fixed on Sasuke.
“What’s going on, boy?” he asked, his voice sharp but with a strange undertone of familiarity. “I remember dying. Why am I here?”
Sasuke flinched at the question, his face twitching with a mix of guilt and shame. The voice carried a distant tenderness, a faint echo of how the Uchiha clan had treated him when they were alive—before the massacre.
A storm of emotions swirled within Sasuke. The betrayal he felt for what he had done to his clanmates weighed heavily on him. He had brought their remains to Orochimaru, knowing full well they would never be free again. They were now bound as puppets under Orochimaru’s control.
Sasuke clenched his fists and kept muttering to himself in a desperate attempt to justify his actions.
“It’s all worth it,” he whispered. “For revenge. It’s all worth it.”
The lead Uchiha frowned, displeasure flickering in his crimson eyes. He didn’t miss Sasuke’s reluctance to answer. Years of warfare had honed his instincts, and he sensed danger in the room. His gaze shifted to Orochimaru, whose serpentine smile only deepened the unease.
The Uchiha’s Sharingan spun faster as he formed a Fire Release seal with his hands. “Are you behind this?” he asked coldly. “If so—die!”
Without waiting for a reply, the Uchiha launched himself at Orochimaru with explosive speed. The force of his advance sent shockwaves rippling through the room. His strategy was straightforward but deadly—use overwhelming speed to close the distance, then unleash a powerful Fire Release jutsu for maximum precision and damage.
Orochimaru watched the attack with interest, clapping his hands lightly as though he were an audience enjoying a performance. “Fascinating,” he murmured, his eyes gleaming with admiration. “The battle techniques of the Warring States Period are so... direct. Such raw power. If I didn’t have a contingency in place, even I might be forced to retreat.”
The Uchiha, undeterred by Orochimaru’s comments, continued his charge. His instincts screamed of danger, but his pride and ruthlessness honed by war drove him forward.
It doesn’t matter what tricks you have, he thought arrogantly. I’ll kill you before you can use them.
He closed the final meter, preparing to unleash his Fireball Jutsu at point-blank range. But just as the flames began to ignite in his throat, Orochimaru casually formed a hand seal.
In an instant, the Uchiha froze in place, his entire body stiff and unresponsive. He couldn’t move a single muscle, as if he had been turned to stone.
“Tsk, tsk,” Orochimaru said, tilting his head as he studied the immobilized Uchiha. “How magnificent. Even your fighting posture is elegant. Truly worthy of the Uchiha name.”
He stepped closer, his tone growing colder. “Since you’ve given me such entertainment, I’ll repay you with an explanation.”
Orochimaru gestured to the coffins behind him. “You’ve been summoned from the Pure Land using a forbidden jutsu called Edo Tensei. From this moment on, you are no longer free. You are my puppets—tools to be used in the upcoming Fourth Shinobi War.”
The Uchiha bristled at the words, their fury palpable. One after another, they lashed out with various techniques, attempting to destroy Orochimaru. But no matter what they did, their movements froze the moment they got close to him. Their attacks amounted to little more than an orchestrated farce.
Orochimaru sighed dramatically, feigning boredom. “Honestly, do all Uchiha share this inability to listen? How irritating.”
Then his tone shifted, a malicious smile spreading across his face. “Very well. Perhaps this will help you understand your situation. The materials needed for this jutsu are the remains of the deceased.”
He pointed to Sasuke, who stood silently, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “And the remains used to summon you... were retrieved from your graves by none other than the boy standing before you.”
Orochimaru’s voice dripped with mockery. “Yes, your proud Uchiha descendant dug up your ancestral graves and handed your remains to me.”
“For his efforts, I’ll grant him control over you for the next month. So, do your best to serve him well.”
The Uchiha were silent, their fury palpable as they turned their piercing eyes toward Sasuke. The weight of their gazes bore down on him, but Sasuke refused to look up. His guilt was overwhelming, but his resolve remained unshaken.
“This is the price of power,” he muttered to himself. “For revenge, it’s all worth it.”
Orochimaru clapped his hands, breaking the tension in the room. “Well then,” he said with a grin. “Let’s see what you can do under Sasuke’s command. Perhaps this time, the Uchiha legacy won’t end in tragedy.”
Chapter 149
“Get along!!” Orochimaru dragged out the words in a taunting tone, his face full of mockery. The expression drove Sasuke, already overwhelmed with guilt, to the brink of madness.
The reanimated Uchiha ancestors, however, were far from passive. Their anger surged, their scarlet Sharingan spinning furiously as they glared at Orochimaru. If not for the restraints of the Edo Tensei, they might have unleashed their fury in a self-destructive attempt to take Orochimaru down with them.
And Sasuke, their disobedient descendant—the one who dared to desecrate their graves—was no exception to their contempt.
But under the strict control of Orochimaru’s jutsu, they were helpless to act.
Orochimaru, reveling in their frustration, waved his hand dismissively to release the immediate constraints of the jutsu. Then, with a smug grin, he turned and left the room, leaving Sasuke alone with the furious Uchiha.
The tension erupted almost instantly.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sound of heavy blows echoed like a fierce drumbeat, each strike resonating with the pent-up rage of the Uchiha. It was a merciless onslaught, and Sasuke was their target.
From a distance, Orochimaru observed the scene with delight, his smile widening as the chaos unfolded. “So ruthless,” he mused, his voice tinged with amusement. “Poor Sasuke. He might not walk away from this in one piece.”
After a moment, he tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Then again, he’s Itachi’s little brother. He still has his uses. It wouldn’t do to let them beat him to death.”
With a flick of his fingers, Orochimaru formed a seal in the air, activating the curse mark embedded in Sasuke’s body. His chakra surged out, filling the room with an oppressive force. Instantly, the reanimated Uchiha froze mid-action, their movements completely paralyzed by the foreign chakra.
Sasuke, meanwhile, lay crumpled on the ground, battered and bruised. his labored breathing indicated he was barely conscious. He stared blankly at the ceiling, his eyes vacant and unfocused.
Orochimaru’s voice echoed through the room, carried by the chakra of the curse mark. “Ah, I almost forgot to mention, Sasuke,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “To control the undead reanimated by the Edo Tensei, you need to activate your curse mark.”
“Don’t take it personally, Sasuke!” Orochimaru added, laughing as his voice faded away.
Sasuke’s hollow eyes flickered with a faint light as he heard the words. Gradually, the spark of life returned, and with it, a simmering rage.
“Orochi... maru...” he hissed, his voice trembling with hatred. “I’ll kill you one day...!”
He clenched his fists tightly, his anger igniting a fire deep within him. Sasuke knew Orochimaru had orchestrated this humiliation on purpose, exploiting his vulnerability for his own twisted amusement.
The betrayal stung. Orochimaru, who had once indulged Sasuke’s every request, had turned into a tormentor. He treated Sasuke like a pawn, mocking him and deriving pleasure from his suffering.
Sasuke burned the memory into his mind. I’ll remember this shame, he vowed silently. But for now, I’ll bide my time.
With newfound resolve, Sasuke staggered to his feet. His gaze turned toward the nearest reanimated Uchiha, whose crimson eyes still glared at him with disdain. Without hesitation, Sasuke drove his fist into the man’s face.
Bang!
The Uchiha, though far more powerful in life, was no match for the chakra-infused curse mark. He could neither resist nor dodge. Sasuke’s blows landed unimpeded, mirroring the earlier assault inflicted upon him.
The room descended into chaos once more, the sound of fists striking flesh echoing in rapid succession. Bang! Bang! Bang! Sasuke didn’t stop until his body, exhausted and trembling, finally gave out.
Breathing heavily, he stood over the group of reanimated Uchiha, his expression cold and unyielding. “I am the last descendant of the Uchiha,” he snarled. “And you—spirits of the dead—will obey me.”
“Now, give me your names.”
The reanimated Uchiha stared at him in silence, their eyes burning with defiance. Sasuke’s frustration boiled over, and he used the authority granted by Orochimaru to forcibly compel them to respond.
Finally, the first spoke. “Uchiha Tajima,” he said coldly.
Another followed. “Uchiha Kagami.”
Sasuke took a mental note of the names, recognizing their significance immediately. Tajima—the father of Madara Uchiha, who founded Konoha alongside the First Hokage. And Kagami—a disciple of the Second Hokage, who sought to integrate the Uchiha into Konoha’s future.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Sasuke’s mouth as he processed the history behind the names. He turned his sharp gaze toward them and asked, “Uchiha Tajima. Uchiha Kagami. What were your greatest techniques?”
The two reanimated Uchiha exchanged a glance before responding in unison. “Fire Release,” said Tajima. “Kenjutsu,” added Kagami.
Sasuke blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback. “What? No Sharingan techniques? No Mangekyō?”
Tajima’s expression turned sour, and even under the influence of the Edo Tensei, his face twisted with indignation. “Boy,” he said sharply, “do you think the Mangekyō Sharingan is so easily attained? It is the pinnacle of our clan’s abilities, born only of great sacrifice.”
Kagami nodded solemnly. “You insult us with your ignorance.”
Sasuke scowled, his pride stung by their rebuke. “So you’re weaker than Itachi,” he muttered, his voice dripping with disdain. “Useless.”
He turned away, his anger bubbling just below the surface. With a wave of his hand, he used the authority of the jutsu to compel them to demonstrate their techniques. Once satisfied, he ordered them to return to their coffins, hidden beneath the earth until he needed them again.
Left alone, Sasuke threw himself into training with single-minded determination. The techniques passed down by Tajima and Kagami became his focus. He practiced tirelessly, wielding fire and blade with increasing precision and ferocity.
His movements were sharp, his breath heavy with exertion. But his mind burned with hatred, his every action fueled by a singular goal: revenge.
As fire erupted from his lips and his blade sliced through the air, Sasuke’s face twisted into a mask of fury. His eyes, glowing with the Sharingan, reflected the image of a man consumed by vengeance.
It was as if he were battling shadows—phantoms of Orochimaru, Naruto, and Itachi, all woven into his training. Each strike, each swing of his blade, carried the weight of his hatred.
Chapter 150
While Sasuke trained relentlessly in Orochimaru's lair, the ninja world spiraled into turmoil.
In Iwagakure, anger boiled over as news of the Third Tsuchikage’s death at the hands of Uzumaki Chito spread. The newly appointed Fourth Tsuchikage, Ōnoki’s son, Kitsuchi, swore at the Five Kage Summit that he would one day face Uzumaki Chito in a battle to the death, vowing to avenge his father.
Similarly, in Kumogakure, where the previous Raikage had also fallen to Uzumaki Chito, the newly instated Fifth Raikage, Darui, echoed a similar sentiment.
With the unified animosity of Iwagakure and Kumogakure, Konoha’s proposal for a Five Great Nations alliance quickly transformed from a mere suggestion into reality.
Even Sunagakure and Kirigakure—villages with no direct enmity toward Uzumaki Chito or the newly formed Shin-Konoha—reluctantly agreed. Faced with the growing threat, resistance was not an option.
And so, an unprecedented alliance among the Five Great Shinobi Villages was born.
In the austere halls of the Five Kage Summit in the Land of Iron, tensions ran high as the leaders convened to address the growing crisis.
“Our main issue right now,” Kitsuchi, the newly appointed Tsuchikage, rumbled, his deep voice echoing in the chamber, “is that we lack enough high-level combatants. Even if Uzumaki Chito refrains from direct involvement, their alliance with the Akatsuki leaves us severely outmatched in terms of elite forces.”
Kitsuchi’s bulky frame, more reminiscent of a sumo wrestler than a ninja, loomed over the table. His candid nature left little room for diplomacy. Though he had not been the first choice to succeed his father, his straightforwardness reflected the harsh reality of the Earth Country's current state.
Under his blunt assessment, the names of the infamous Akatsuki members reverberated through the chamber, a chilling reminder of the formidable opponents they faced:
Sasori of the Red Sand
Deidara
Uchiha Itachi
Kakuzu
Hidan
Kisame Hoshigaki
And the enigmatic Akatsuki leader, whose identity remained shrouded in mystery.
Jiraiya, seated among the Kage as a representative of Konoha, rubbed his temples, the weight of the conversation evident in his expression. “The so-called ‘dragon does not live with the snake,’” he muttered. “While all Akatsuki members are powerful, Uchiha Itachi stands out. He’s one of Konoha’s S-rank rogue ninja—a genius whose strength rivals that of a Hokage.”
Jiraiya’s gaze swept across the table. “Anyone who can stand alongside Itachi as an equal is bound to be a serious threat. Even with our unprecedented alliance, we cannot afford to be careless.”
The other Kage nodded grimly. Sasori, the most talented puppeteer in Sunagakure’s history, had a bloody legacy that included single-handedly annihilating an entire nation. His creations were so advanced that Kankuro, the current Kazekage’s bodyguard, still relied on puppets Sasori had crafted as a child.
Deidara, the explosive artist of Iwagakure, had once been groomed as Ōnoki’s successor. His mastery of explosive release made him one of the most dangerous shinobi of his generation.
Kisame wielded Samehada, the most fearsome of the Seven Ninja Swords, a blade that devoured chakra and heightened its wielder’s power. His reputation as the "Monster of the Hidden Mist" was well-earned.
Though the other Akatsuki members were less well-known, their inclusion in the organization spoke volumes about their capabilities. None of the Kage doubted that the Akatsuki posed an existential threat.
Darui, the new Raikage, frowned, his usually languid demeanor replaced with seriousness. “The lack of high-end combat power is a glaring weakness,” he said. “We cannot hope to stand against Shin-Konoha or the Akatsuki unless we address this issue.”
Terumī Mei, the Fifth Mizukage, nodded in agreement, her sharp features reflecting her concern. “But elite shinobi aren’t something you can produce overnight,” she said. “How can we close this gap in such a short time?”
The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of the dilemma pressing down on them. Jiraiya’s head hung low, his hesitation clear.
Both Darui and Terumī Mei noticed the change in Jiraiya’s demeanor. Though Darui often appeared lazy, his perceptiveness was razor-sharp. Meanwhile, Terumī Mei’s keen intuition as a kunoichi allowed her to pick up on the subtle tension in Jiraiya’s posture.
After a brief pause, Darui broke the silence. “Jiraiya-sama,” he began, his voice calm yet firm, “your reputation precedes you. Everyone here knows your character. If you have an idea, even if it’s unconventional, we’re willing to hear it. At this point, we have few options left.”
Jiraiya sighed heavily, running a hand through his silver hair. “Before coming to this summit, I anticipated Konoha’s need for additional strength,” he admitted. “I reached out to Orochimaru, hoping to convince him to return to Konoha.”
The other Kage stiffened at the mention of Orochimaru, the infamous Sannin whose experiments and betrayals had left a dark stain on the shinobi world.
“He refused,” Jiraiya continued. “But he made a different offer—one that could ‘significantly enhance our combat strength.’”
Jiraiya’s expression darkened. “The problem is, his method is... deeply unsettling. It goes against everything we believe in. Even I struggle to accept it, which is why I hesitated to bring it up here.”
The room grew tense as the Kage processed his words. “Something contrary to common sense,” Terumī Mei murmured. “Coming from Orochimaru, that’s hardly surprising.”
Kitsuchi grunted, folding his arms. “If it’s from Orochimaru, we already know it’s something twisted.”
The gathered Kage exchanged uneasy glances. For all his brilliance, Orochimaru’s methods were known to be cold, ruthless, and devoid of morality.
“What exactly did he propose?” Darui asked, his voice steady despite the tension.
Jiraiya hesitated, then finally spoke, his voice laced with reluctance. “He proposed using forbidden techniques to create artificial strongman. Reanimated shinobi, pulled from the Pure Land, bound to serve us.”
The revelation sent a chill through the room. The implications were horrifying. Reanimation was a technique that defied the natural order, turning the dead into tools of war.
The Kage were silent, their expressions a mix of shock and revulsion. But beneath their outrage lay an uncomfortable truth—they were running out of options.
