[Naruto Grandfather] Chapter 141 - 145

Chapter 141

"Whew! I almost couldn’t hold on!"

"Good thing I’m smart enough to retreat. Otherwise, I’d be dead by now!"

Ōnoki wiped the sweat from his forehead, casting a cautious glance at Uzumaki Chito below.

His earlier outburst of anger, though partly genuine, was mostly a calculated performance. He had hoped to mask his inability to continue the battle and create an opportunity to escape.

Unexpectedly, his act was so convincing that everyone present seemed to believe him.

What Ōnoki failed to realize, however, was just how sharp Uzumaki Chito’s senses were. His smug, self-satisfied demeanor had not gone unnoticed.

"So, it was all an act?" Uzumaki Chito murmured, his expression darkening slightly. "As expected of an old, cunning fox."

Deception did not anger Uzumaki Chito—doubts about his power were beneath his notice.

But outright lies?

"That will come at a price," Uzumaki Chito said coldly.

His gaze shifted to Mifune, who stood nearby.

"Run as far as you can," Uzumaki Chito instructed calmly.

Mifune, though puzzled, trusted his instincts. As a seasoned samurai, he sensed the immense pressure radiating from Uzumaki Chito’s clone. Without hesitation, he turned and sprinted away.

Jiraiya and Ōnoki instinctively prepared to act, but before they could move, an overwhelming force descended upon them.

Boom!

The first to succumb was Ōnoki, who relied on the Earth Style: Light-Weight Rock Technique to stay airborne. The immense pressure disrupted his chakra control, sending him plummeting to the ground.

Crack!

"My waist!" Ōnoki groaned as he hit the ground hard, clutching his back in pain.

But no one had the luxury of paying attention to his complaints.

Because Uzumaki Chito had moved.

This time, it was just a flick of his finger.

But instead of white light, a tiny, pitch-black particle appeared at his fingertip. It was no larger than a speck of dust, but it radiated an aura of incomprehensible power.

"What… is that?" Jiraiya muttered, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the black particle. Decades of battle-hardened experience screamed at him that whatever this was, it was far more dangerous than anything he had ever encountered.

Uzumaki Chito’s voice cut through the tension.

"Ninjutsu, as most ninjas understand it, is derived from the five elemental attributes: wind, lightning, water, fire, and earth."

"Beyond these lies a deeper realm—yin and yang."

"Once, the combination of water, earth, and yang birthed Wood Style, a power that dominated the Warring States and founded Konoha."

"So," he continued, his tone dripping with disdain, "don’t think your Dust Release—a mere fusion of three attributes—is anything extraordinary. I mastered such techniques long ago."

"And the reason I call Dust Release a low-level technique is simple. Above it lies the fusion of all attributes, encompassing everything… the Truth-Seeking Orb."

As he spoke, the black particle at his fingertip began to expand. From the size of a speck, it grew to a grain of rice, then to a soybean.

Meanwhile, the clone of Uzumaki Chito began to fade, its energy siphoned into the growing orb.

Jiraiya’s heart pounded in his chest.

The danger emanating from the black sphere was unlike anything he had ever felt. Its mere presence seemed to defy the natural order.

Yet his instincts confused him.

While his mind screamed of the orb’s unparalleled destructive potential, his senses perceived it as harmless—a mundane stone one might find on the roadside.

This dissonance was maddening.

"Damn it," Jiraiya muttered under his breath as he instinctively took a step back. "What is that thing?!"

Ōnoki, still clutching his injured back, looked up at Uzumaki Chito with equal parts fear and defiance. He remained rooted in place, convinced of the invincibility of his Dust Release.

In his mind, no technique could surpass one that could disassemble matter at its core.

Uzumaki Chito noticed Ōnoki’s confidence and smirked.

"The ignorant are fearless," he said mockingly.

The next moment, Uzumaki Chito’s clone dissolved entirely, its remaining energy consumed by the Truth-Seeking Orb.

And then—

Boom!

The black orb swelled, growing from the size of a soybean to the height of a ten-story building in an instant.

Rumble!

A blinding white light erupted from the orb, accompanied by an unbearable heat.

The world itself seemed to vanish, replaced by an endless expanse of pure white.

The ground, the grass, the insects—everything within the orb’s reach dissolved into nothingness, disassembled at the molecular level.

Life itself was erased.

Chapter 142

After a few moments, the chaos subsided, and everything fell silent.

The blinding white light in the sky dissipated, revealing a barren, scorched expanse where the earth had been wiped clean.

Rustle—

A faint movement stirred about a thousand meters from the epicenter of the Truth-Seeking Orb’s explosion.

Slowly, two green toad claws emerged from the ground, their movements labored. The toad beneath the surface seemed utterly exhausted, as if digging had drained its strength.

The creature paused, taking long, labored breaths.

It remained still for half an hour before mustering the energy to move again. With great effort, the toad clawed its way upward, inch by inch, until it finally surfaced.

The toad, covered in dirt and debris, dragged its battered body onto the barren ground.

Then—

Blargg!

The toad opened its mouth and spat out a slimy, humanoid figure.

It was Jiraiya.

"Still alive?" Jiraiya gasped, lying motionless on the ground. His breath was shallow, his voice barely above a whisper. "What… what luck."

Behind him, his back was a mess of flesh and blood, with parts of his white bones faintly visible. He stared at the sky, his mind replaying the harrowing events that had brought him here.

The first wave of the Truth-Seeking Orb’s destruction had barely missed him, sparing his life. In those few seconds, he had managed to summon a toad from Mount Myoboku.

But even as the toad appeared, the orb’s explosion caught up with him. If not for the toad’s quick reflexes—swallowing Jiraiya and diving 300 meters underground—he would have been reduced to nothing.

He owed his life to that toad.

The toad, still catching its breath, finally managed to speak.

"Jiraiya… what was that? Who launched that attack?!"

"I thought I was going to die for sure!" the toad gasped, its tone tinged with irritation.

Jiraiya gave a bitter smile and forced the words out: "Uzumaki Chito."

The toad froze.

"Uzumaki Chito?!" it exclaimed, its entire body trembling. "You’re lucky to still be breathing."

The toad shook its head in disbelief. "Frankly, I’m surprised he didn’t finish you off. If I were you, I’d steer clear of him next time."

"And Jiraiya," the toad added with a sarcastic edge, "if you ever cross paths with Uzumaki Chito again, do us all a favor and don’t use summoning. If you’re going to die, don’t drag one of us with you."

The toad gave a mock sigh. "But don’t worry! If you do die, I’ll burn paper money for you during your memorial."

Jiraiya chuckled weakly at the toad’s bluntness. "So, Uzumaki Chito’s reputation has even reached Mount Myoboku?"

"Reputation?" the toad retorted, rolling its eyes. "It’s not about reputation—it’s about presence."

"You see, Mount Myoboku, as one of the Three Great Sage Lands, is deeply attuned to natural energy. When Uzumaki Chito awakened, the entire mountain felt it. The surge of natural chakra was so overwhelming, it felt like we were being commanded to bow."

"Every Toad Sage fell into a deep slumber, overwhelmed by the sheer force of his awakening. It wasn’t until recently that they began to wake up."

The toad’s tone grew serious. "The sages told us that a god now walks the earth. One who holds dominion over all natural chakra."

"For us who cultivate senjutsu, Uzumaki Chito is our king. And if you ever summon a toad in his presence again, don’t be surprised if he banishes it—or worse."

With that, the turquoise toad lifted the summoning jutsu, vanishing in a puff of smoke.

Jiraiya was left lying on the ground, staring at the empty sky. His heart was heavy with the weight of the toad’s words.

"A god who controls all natural forces?" he murmured.

"This is bad news. If I can’t use sage mode, I might not even be able to hold my own against Tsunade."

His gaze grew distant. "And with the Raikage already dead and now another Kage lost before the war has even begun…"

"In this state, how can we possibly fight Shin-Konoha?"

For the first time, Jiraiya—a man known for his unshakable resolve—felt the tendrils of despair creeping into his heart.

Just as he sank deeper into his thoughts, a familiar voice broke the silence.

"Oh, what are you doing lying here like a beaten dog?"

"Sunbathing, are we? Quite the spot you’ve chosen."

Startled, Jiraiya turned his head sharply.

Barely an inch away, the pale face of Orochimaru stared back at him, his lips twisted in a cold smirk.

For a ninja like Jiraiya, this was a death distance. Instinctively, his body tensed, chakra surging as his reflexes primed for an attack.

But then he relaxed, forcing a playful grin.

"Yo, Orochimaru. What brings you here? Trying to soak up the sun and shake off some of that gloom?"

Chapter 143

Orochimaru rose from the ground slowly, his lithe form straightening until he stood fully upright.

He ignored Jiraiya’s feigned nonchalance, his eyes instead fixated on the barren landscape left behind by the Truth-Seeking Orb. His gaze held both shock and greed as he surveyed the devastation.

"Every time I witness Uzumaki Chito in action, it’s nothing short of exhilarating," Orochimaru murmured, a sly grin forming on his lips.

"But this time… the power was too overwhelming. That old man, the Third Tsuchikage, likely didn’t even leave behind ashes."

Orochimaru sighed dramatically. "What a pity. Now my Edo Tensei lineup is missing a powerful Kage-level shinobi."

Jiraiya, hearing Orochimaru’s musings, gritted his teeth and pushed himself off the ground. His body trembled as he stood, and just as he found his footing, he stumbled.

Orochimaru chuckled and extended a hand to steady him.

Jiraiya instinctively gripped the offered arm, but as soon as he realized whose arm it was, his stomach churned. With a look of disgust, he recoiled as if he had touched something venomous.

The amusement in Orochimaru’s eyes deepened.

"Why, Jiraiya," he teased, his voice dripping with mockery, "you’re not falling for my body, are you?"

Jiraiya’s face turned pale. For a moment, he considered slapping that smug smirk right off Orochimaru’s face, but he quickly composed himself.

"Enough with the nonsense," he snapped, his tone clipped. "Help me patch up my injuries. I need to deliver the news of Ōnoki’s death to the other Kage and stabilize Iwa. If I don’t act quickly, the Five Kage Alliance will collapse before it even begins."

Orochimaru scoffed, his disdain palpable.

He crossed his arms, his golden eyes gleaming with malicious glee. "With many dead, do you really think this so-called alliance is still viable?"

"You’d be better off helping me collect more corpses for Edo Tensei. With enough powerful souls, we might actually stand a chance against Shin-Konoha."

Jiraiya shook his head and sighed. "You haven’t changed a bit, Orochimaru."

"Yes, using Edo Tensei to summon powerful shinobi would bolster our strength quickly," Jiraiya admitted. "But can you guarantee those you summon will fight for Konoha? Many of the people you’d resurrect have no loyalty to us. They’d likely revel in seeing Konoha and Shin-Konoha tear each other apart."

"Tell me, Orochimaru," he said, his voice growing colder, "why should I trust someone like you with such power? If we did manage to defeat Shin-Konoha, would Konoha even survive under your control?"

Orochimaru listened with an exaggerated expression of surprise before clapping slowly, his mocking applause echoing through the barren land.

"Bravo, Jiraiya. I didn’t expect the village idiot to figure out my intentions so accurately. Truly impressive."

"But," Orochimaru continued, his voice turning icy, "since you’re so suspicious of me, I think it’s best we part ways here. I wouldn’t want the other Kage to think I’m corrupting your already fragile alliance."

He smirked. "After all, not every Kage is as gullible as you."

Jiraiya’s face twitched with frustration, his eyes narrowing into a deadpan glare. Despite his irritation, he knew Orochimaru’s words carried an unsettling grain of truth.

Orochimaru, clearly enjoying himself, twisted his body unnaturally as he began to sink into the ground.

"Goodbye, Fifth Hokage," he drawled, his voice laced with mockery. "I’ll head back to my lab. You go play diplomat with your shadows."

As his figure disappeared, his voice echoed faintly:

"Don’t forget, Jiraiya. I’ll need more ‘materials’ for my experiments. If you fail to deliver, don’t blame me if Shin-Konoha offers me a better deal."

Jiraiya stood silently, his Tsume clenched. After taking a moment to rest, he ignored the pain radiating from his back and began his journey toward the Five Kage meeting point.

Meanwhile, Orochimaru reappeared in his underground lab, not far from Shin-Konoha.

Inside, a man sat with his eyes closed, waiting patiently.

Kabuto, standing nervously beside him, perked up as Orochimaru entered.

"Lord Orochimaru," Kabuto greeted, his voice tinged with both relief and excitement.

Orochimaru’s eyes narrowed as he observed the seated figure. His snake-like pupils glinted with dangerous curiosity.

"Well, well," Orochimaru drawled, his tone mocking. "If it isn’t Lord Danzo."

"I thought you were too terrified of death to ever show your face near me. What’s brought on this sudden bravery?"

Chapter 144

Orochimaru spoke in a mocking tone, his words laced with venom as he released an oppressive murderous aura, making no effort to conceal it. It felt as though he might attack the group that had intruded upon his laboratory at any moment.

Faced with this palpable threat, Danzo remained unperturbed. He simply snorted disdainfully and said coldly, “Enough, Orochimaru. There’s no need for these empty games of intimidation.”

“The old man’s time is far too valuable for such theatrics.”

As a disciple of the Second Hokage, a close companion of the Third Hokage, a former leader of Konoha, an ambitious schemer, and now an aged shadow of his former self, Danzo exuded an air of calm authority. Seated resolutely, his posture reflected the demeanor of a man who had wielded power for decades.

Orochimaru observed him with a flicker of surprise, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. Danzo had always been known as a cunning yet cautious man—greedy for power but deeply fearful of death. He epitomized the phrase an old thief who refuses to die quietly.

By contrast, Orochimaru's teacher, the Third Hokage Sarutobi Hiruzen, though shrouded in intrigue and schemes, often displayed a sense of uprightness and responsibility. This integrity had cemented his position as Hokage, no matter how much Danzo schemed in the shadows.

In the past, no matter how Danzo plotted, he could never shake Hiruzen’s grip on the title of Hokage. Even in Orochimaru's Konoha Crush plan, the Third Hokage had selflessly sacrificed himself, performing the Reaper Death Seal in an ultimate act of duty to protect the village.

But now, Danzo seemed different. His composure and fearlessness caught Orochimaru off guard. It was as if the man before him had shed his usual insecurities. Intrigued, Orochimaru concealed his surprise and responded with his usual smirk.

“Well then, Lord Danzo, whose time is so precious—what brings you here? Surely, you’re not here to suggest yet another attempt at the Konoha Crush plan?”

Danzo shook his head slowly, his face cold and expressionless. His voice carried an edge of disdain as he replied, “The reason I supported the Konoha Crush plan back then wasn’t solely to pave my way to becoming Hokage. I believed Sarutobi was too old, dragging Konoha down with his weakness.”

“Only by eradicating him and taking leadership myself could Konoha return to its former glory,” he continued, his tone resolute. Then, a faint, mocking smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “But things are different now.”

“With Uzumaki Naruto in the picture, Konoha’s fate is no longer tied to old men like us. All I need to do is wait for the boy to take control. A Shin-Konoha will rise from its ashes under his guidance.”

Danzo’s voice grew colder as he added, “In this case, why would I waste my energy on collapsing something that is destined to fall on its own?”

Hearing this, Orochimaru’s smirk faded. His expression turned serious, revealing the cold indifference that lay at the core of his being. His voice dropped to a soft, serpentine whisper as he said, “I see. Danzo…”

“If you’d had this perspective earlier, I might have supported your bid for Hokage myself.”

Danzo scoffed at the notion, his eyes narrowing briefly. “Enough of this idle talk about the Hokage. Let’s discuss something truly meaningful.”

Orochimaru’s curiosity was piqued. His amber eyes glimmered with interest as he asked, “Meaningful? Now that you’ve let go of your obsession with the Hokage’s title, what could possibly hold such significance for you?”

Danzo’s hand moved to his bandaged eye, which he stroked slowly as he spoke in a deliberate tone. “Immortality.”

The word hung heavily in the air. Orochimaru’s expression sharpened as he listened intently. Danzo continued, his voice calm yet filled with bitterness.

“In the past, I used every tool at my disposal to manipulate Sarutobi’s will, employing the power of Shisui’s Kotoamatsukami. I sought to provoke a conflict between Sarutobi and Uzumaki Mito’s descendant, Uzumaki Kushina, hoping they’d destroy one another. Afterward, I would step in to clean up the mess and take the Hokage’s seat.”

Danzo paused, his gaze hardening. “But all it took was a single glance—one fleeting moment with Uzumaki Kushina—and my entire scheme crumbled. She saw through everything and exposed my machinations.”

“She even found me hiding in the shadows and issued a warning I could not ignore. At that moment, I abandoned my ambition for the Hokage position.”

Danzo’s voice softened as he admitted, “But giving up that obsession left me lost. For years, I had fought and schemed for that one goal. When it slipped away, I was consumed by confusion.”

“I began to question why I had been so consumed by the Hokage title in the first place. And then, I found my answer.”

Orochimaru leaned in slightly, his interest genuine. The words resonated with him. Once, long ago, he had faced similar doubts when he was younger—a time when he had questioned his purpose and direction as a ninja. He couldn’t help but wonder what answer Danzo had found.

“And what answer is that?” Orochimaru asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

Danzo lowered his hand from his eye and began unraveling the bandages wrapped around his body. As the cloth fell away, it revealed a body riddled with scars—each a testament to his survival. Some wounds marked his head, others his throat, and many more his chest and heart.

There were at least thirty or forty visible scars, each one a reminder of a near-fatal encounter. As for the countless smaller scars covering the rest of his body, they seemed too numerous to count.

Chapter 145

Seeing the scars exposed on Danzo's body, Orochimaru couldn’t help but pause in disbelief. Then, memories resurfaced—memories of the man before him, someone he had mocked and despised for years. Once upon a time, this same man had fought on the battlefield for Konoha with unrelenting resolve.

But—

“If my memory serves me correctly, I was the one who gave you that left arm and left eye,” Orochimaru remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. His golden eyes narrowed as he added, “I’ve seen these scars before, Danzo. So, tell me—what are you trying to prove now?”

Danzo’s expression remained cold and unmoving. He seemed entirely unfazed by Orochimaru’s words, his demeanor calm and resolute. Ignoring the taunt, Danzo began speaking, his voice steady and deliberate.

“One of these injuries,” he said, gesturing to a particularly deep scar, “was from when I was seven years old. It was the first time I became a ninja.”

“Since that day, I’ve understood one simple truth—death is the destiny of all ninjas.”

Danzo’s voice hardened as he continued, “So I trained, relentlessly. Not for power, but to leave something behind in this world after my death. Something that would endure.”

He paused briefly, as though weighing his next words, then resumed, “I became the Second Hokage’s disciple and later competed with Sarutobi for the position of Hokage. All of it—every scheme and every sacrifice—was driven by that purpose.”

“But somewhere along the way, I lost sight of it. I became consumed by ambition, chasing the title of Hokage for reasons I didn’t even understand. When I finally let go of my greed for the position, I reflected on my actions and found the answer I’d been seeking all along.”

Danzo’s tone grew somber, a flicker of vulnerability showing through his cold exterior. “The reason I was so obsessed with becoming Hokage wasn’t about power or prestige. It was fear—fear of death.”

“I was afraid of disappearing without a trace, as though I had never existed in this world.”

Orochimaru stared at him, momentarily stunned. Danzo’s words struck a chord deep within him, echoing his own thoughts from years ago. Back then, Orochimaru had believed that death was inevitable for all ninjas. It was that belief that had driven him to study forbidden techniques in his pursuit of immortality, eventually leading to his defection from Konoha.

And now, hearing Danzo—this man who had once played a disgraceful role in his exile—voice such similar fears, Orochimaru couldn’t help but feel a bitter sense of irony. A mocking smile crept across his face as he began to laugh.

“Haha! Afraid of death!” Orochimaru exclaimed, his voice dripping with amusement. “Oh, Danzo, how utterly terrified of death you are! Twice today, you’ve surprised me. What a rare delight!”

“Well then,” he continued, his tone shifting to one of mock courtesy, “now that I understand your purpose—to seek me out in hopes of evading death—shall we discuss your terms? Do you want my Edo Tensei technique, Danzo-sama?”

Danzo’s gaze didn’t waver. His eyes remained calm and indifferent as he replied, “No, no, no.”

“Orochimaru, your Edo Tensa technique, riddled with flaws as it is, isn’t worth the sacrifice.”

Danzo’s voice took on a sharp edge as he continued, “Don’t think I’m ignorant of its limitations. The damage it causes to the soul left you vulnerable—so much so that Uchiha Itachi defeated you with a mere genjutsu.”

He leaned forward slightly, his words cutting like a blade. “That kind of immortality—if you can even call it that—isn’t my goal.”

“What I want,” Danzo said, his voice filled with conviction, “is true immortality. The kind Uzumaki Chito achieved—powerful, majestic, and flawless.”

Orochimaru’s smirk froze on his face, his expression turning cold. Though Danzo’s tone remained neutral, Orochimaru couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being mocked. And perhaps he was.

After all, wasn’t it a bitter joke that one of the legendary Sannin had been bested by an Uchiha prodigy half his age? Orochimaru’s pride bristled, but he forced a smile as he responded.

“Danzo-sama,” he said with exaggerated politeness, “you make your intentions so clear, yet your request is anything but straightforward.”

“And as for Uzumaki Chito’s so-called immortality,” Orochimaru added, his tone turning sharp, “who wouldn’t desire such god-like eternity? But tell me—who could possibly achieve it?”

His smile turned sly as he added, “Perhaps you’ve come to the wrong person.”

Danzo, however, remained undeterred. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he raised his head, exuding an air of quiet confidence.

“No, Orochimaru,” Danzo said firmly. “I have not made a mistake.”

He leaned back slightly, his voice calm and measured as he continued, “I have information that confirms you once assisted Hyuga Neji in advancing the study of the Byakugan.”

“With what I know of your nature, Orochimaru, you would never agree to such research without something significant in return. Whatever Uzumaki Chito gave you—it must have been related to immortality.”

Danzo’s tone grew sharper. “And according to the intelligence gathered by Root, after your contact with Uzumaki Chito, you stopped using your Living Corpse Reincarnation technique altogether.”

“Clearly, you obtained a superior method of immortality. So tell me, Orochimaru—am I wrong?”

Orochimaru’s expression darkened as he listened to Danzo’s meticulous analysis. For a moment, he was genuinely stunned. He had always considered Danzo a shrewd but reckless man, driven more by ambition than intellect. But now, faced with such precise deductions, Orochimaru couldn’t help but acknowledge the old man’s cunning.

His snake-like eyes fixed on Danzo, unblinking, as his expression shifted between annoyance, surprise, and grudging respect. Finally, after a long silence, Orochimaru spoke in a low, measured tone.

“Danzo-sama,” he said, his voice smooth as silk, “it seems I underestimated you.”

“I must admit, you’ve exceeded my expectations this time.”

“But fortunately for you, I enjoy surprises. Very well—I’ll share with you the method of immortality passed on by Uzumaki Chito.”

Orochimaru’s smile turned sinister as he added, “But don’t expect too much. The method is of little value to most people.”

Danzo’s calm demeanor cracked for the first time. His eyes widened, and he shot to his feet, his entire body trembling with barely contained excitement. His lips moved as though he were about to speak, but no words came out at first.

Finally, Danzo managed to whisper hoarsely, “Tell me…”

“What is the immortal technique of Uzumaki Chito?”