The Forest of Death trembled under another devastating slash. A dark purple arc, towering over ten ters high, carved deep scars across the earth, splitting trees like twigs and sending debris flying. The sheer force of the attack kicked up a cloud of dust so thick that even Konoha's genin struggled to see through it.
They barely managed to leap away in ti. The attack wasn't even aid at them, yet the shockwave alone had sent them tumbling. Only now did they truly understand what the foreign shinobi had faced. That kind of power wasn't sothing you countered—it was sothing you prayed wouldn't reach you.
Amidst the chaos, Kisa gritted his teeth, ignoring the searing pain in his chest. He was fast with his hand signs, but the speed of the slash was terrifying. It was closing in, and deep down, he knew—he was too late.
Then, the air shifted.
A massive, demonic gate erupted from the ground, its ghostly face snarling as it stood in the path of Youyu's attack.
"Rashomon!"
The structure slamd into place just as the slash collided.
The impact was deafening. The ground quaked violently, splitting open under the sheer force. A shockwave of raw power blasted outward, sending the foreign shinobi tumbling, barely able to keep their footing.
For a mont, there was only silence. Then, realizing they were still alive, the genin collapsed, panting and trembling with relief.
In Konoha's observation room, the Hokage let out a slow breath, taking a deep drag from his pipe. Orochimaru had made it in ti. At least, that's what he thought.
From atop Rashomon, Orochimaru's expression twisted. Sothing was wrong.
The dark purple slash hadn't disappeared—it was still pushing forward. The energy had intensified, as if Youyu's attack had only just begun.
A thin, jagged line of pure white energy ran down the middle of the massive gate.
Then, with a loud crack—
Rashomon split in half.
The hundred-ter-tall gate crumbled like brittle stone, the remains crashing down in a storm of dust and debris.
Silence filled the Hokage's office. The Hokage's pipe slipped from his fingers, hitting the floor with a soft clatter. His earlier confidence shattered.
Jiraiya, who had initially smirked at Orochimaru's interference, stared at the screen in disbelief. "That... that was Rashomon." His voice was barely above a whisper. "He cut through Rashomon. With one slash."
Back in the Forest of Death, Orochimaru stood among the rubble, dusting off his cloak as his slitted eyes glead with intrigue. "Konoha's little monster," he murmured, stepping forward. "You're far more interesting than I imagined."
The dust cleared, revealing Youyu standing tall with his sword resting on his shoulder. His scarlet eyes glead dangerously as they locked onto the rogue sannin.
"You," he muttered, his tone sharp with irritation. "You're in my way."
Orochimaru's smile widened. "Ah... but that's what makes this fun."
Without hesitation, his hands flashed through a rapid series of seals.
"Hidden Shadow Snake Hands!"
From his sleeves, a swarm of venomous serpents burst forth, their fangs glistening as they shot toward Youyu with terrifying speed.
In Konoha's observation room, the Hokage's face darkened. "Damn it, Orochimaru. I told you to stop him, not provoke him."
Jiraiya sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Heh. You know how he is. Always has to test things for himself."
The Hokage shot him a glare. "This isn't the ti for that."
Jiraiya didn't disagree. Orochimaru wasn't playing with a normal shinobi. And in the Forest of Death, he was about to learn that firsthand.
As the wave of snakes rushed toward him, Youyu's blood ran cold. His grip on his sword tightened.
With a sharp, fluid motion, he swung his blade.
"The hell is this? Filthy snakes."
The mont his sword moved, three perfectly executed slashes tore through the air. The dozens of serpents lunging at him froze midair, their bodies cleanly severed before tumbling lifelessly to the ground.
Orochimaru's expression remained unreadable, but his eyes sharpened. "Interesting..."
Youyu didn't wait for him to make the next move. He was already moving.
With a single step, the ground beneath him exploded, sending him rocketing forward at a blinding speed. His blade glead under the fractured light of the ruined forest, aid straight for Orochimaru's throat.
The sannin barely had ti to react. He twisted his body at the last second, feeling the kiss of cold steel graze past his neck. A single strand of hair fluttered to the ground.
Orochimaru landed a few feet away, his tongue flicking out as he licked his lips. "Fast," he admitted. "But not fast enough."
Youyu's eyes narrowed—this one was different. Not like the other trash.
Maybe it wouldn't be a waste of ti to cut him down after all.
Orochimaru's hand moved toward his kunai pouch, but before he could even reach it—
CRACK.
His entire body froze.
A sudden, crushing pressure weighed down on him, making his breath hitch. It wasn't just bloodlust. It wasn't just killing intent.
It was sothing else entirely.
His eyes flicked toward Youyu, and for the first ti in years, Orochimaru felt sothing unfamiliar—sothing he hadn't experienced since his youth.
Fear.
The air around Youyu had shifted. The ground trembled beneath his feet, and the dark purple arcs of energy surrounding him grew denser, wrapping around his body like an ominous shroud.
Orochimaru had fought monsters before. He had faced war, the strongest shinobi of other villages, and even the wrath of tailed beasts.
But this? This was sothing else.
Youyu exhaled slowly, gripping his sword tighter.
"You should've just brought the damn drink."
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