The Crow's super-condensed Tailed Beast Jade might belong to that class of lonely ultimates—techniques so overwhelmingly powerful, they leave only silence behind.
The densely forested hills that once stood below were gone, replaced by a deep, steaming lake. Beiyuan quietly praised himself: This move is honestly kind of public-spirited.
Years ago, some country was rich enough to detonate nuclear weapons just to make a reservoir. This had the same effect—without radiation. Surely the locals would be grateful, right?
Still, the buildup took too long. The aim was slightly off too. As it stood, this was strictly a strategic nuclear weapon. Definitely needs more practice... Practice...
"…Beiyuan, you don't think Jiraiya-sensei got hurt…?"
Uchiha Itachi's voice carried doubt. He knew the Sannin were strong, but something that could obliterate a town? Surviving that wasn't guaranteed.
"Gah?"
Beiyuan blinked lazily. When the blast hit, he had noticed a giant toad fleeing the area. They should be fine… probably?
As the dust settled, the kids who had been terrified moments ago slowly grew animated again. They started chattering excitedly—some saying they wanted to go home, one loudly asking for water.
…Probably because groundwater had risen to the surface, forming that lake.
Jiraiya, meanwhile, was lucky. Toad Bunta had shielded him with his body, taking the brunt of the blast. Jiraiya himself had only internal injuries. Still, he was shaken.
"Silence is golden…" he muttered bitterly. Every day, he came up with new reasons to hate that crow—but this time, he had almost died.
He used to think his new disciple just had talent—maybe even something approaching Nagato's learning speed—but still nothing too special. No legendary lineage, no Rinnegan. Just… Sharingan? Bah. Jiraiya had never met a truly powerful Uchiha.
But now…
One Tailed Beast Bomb that could erase a Hidden Village.
If this crow decided not to listen, disaster would follow.
When Jiraiya finally found them, Uchiha Itachi was sitting calmly by a campfire, surrounded by children, telling a story.
With a solemn voice and serious eyes, Itachi recited myth as if it were memory.
"…To avenge his friend, Hou Yi shot down nine suns. The last sun escaped, claimed to be Amaterasu, and turned into a crow to watch over the world…"
"…Then, an eight-headed Orochi appeared, bringing destruction. Amaterasu commanded her servant Susanoo to slay it with a ten-punch sword. From its body, he drew the Kusanagi…"
As he spoke, Itachi pointed to the snake skin on the ground. Then tapped the sword in his hand. Jiraiya's brow twitched.
"Wow! I saw him pull that sword out of the snake too!"
"Is this the real Orochi?!"
"It must be! We saw it!"
The kids chattered in awe.
Itachi's storytelling was nonsense. But no one cared.
Jiraiya approached the snake skin, knelt, and touched it. "Orochimaru…?"
The Rebirth Technique. Jiraiya recognized it. That bastard hadn't died—he'd shed his skin and slithered away.
It made sense. Orochimaru wouldn't stay in a battlefield this dangerous.
When Itachi had taken the kids around to search the battlefield, he'd found the snakeskin—and a Kusanagi Sword inside. Which he'd used as the centerpiece of a mythic lecture... a tale Fugaku once told him, now passed on by Beiyuan.
"Jiraiya-sensei!" Itachi looked up, worried.
"I'm fine…" Jiraiya smiled weakly, quickly wiping away the blood trickling from his mouth. "You alright?"
"Thanks to Beiyuan, we weren't harmed. But… Manda must've released the summoning technique and escaped."
Jiraiya fell silent.
So—Orochimaru escaped with the Rebirth Technique, and Manda unsummoned itself.
The only ones truly wrecked by the blast?
Himself and poor Bunta.
Bunta, who had only just been summoned and was now half-dead. The toads of Mount Myoboku were not going to be happy about this.
Jiraiya sighed. "That explosion earlier… it was your crow?"
"Too late to ask," Itachi pointed to the bird curled up next to him, sleeping like a rock. "He's really tired."
Beiyuan mumbled in his sleep and rolled over, entirely undisturbed.
"…Let him rest." Jiraiya muttered. "After something like that…"
He rubbed his temples. "I guess I won't be helping you look for a summoning beast anymore…"
And there's no way Mount Myoboku will let him sign a contract either. Way too dangerous.
He could already imagine the look on Fukasaku's face.
Mount Myoboku.
Chaos.
Shima and Fukasaku were frozen, staring at their son, who had returned from battle mangled and barely alive.
Toads could regenerate, sure—but he was at the edge of death.
"Did Jiraiya run into a monster?!" Shima asked, panicked.
"We should go—"
"No!" Bunta snapped, stopping them. "That crow… it's too strong! These wounds? I was barely at the edge of the blast. If I'd gotten closer…"
Fukasaku narrowed his eyes. "Bunta. You didn't just… run the moment you got there, right?"
"…"
Bunta said nothing.
Truth was, his dad was right.
He didn't know how to explain it. How do you describe something that turns mountains into lakes and leaves mushroom clouds behind?
…Maybe next time, Jiraiya could come explain it himself.
Actually, why didn't he just take Jiraiya with him the moment the Tailed Beast Jade started falling?
Ah. He should have.
Next time.