"Wood Release?!"
One of the Kumogakure jōnin, Yuninshō, stared at Orochimaru in disbelief—his eyes filled with fear, awe, and confusion.
Wood Release wasn't just a technique. It was a symbol—an icon of power across the entire ninja world. It represented the legacy of the "God of Shinobi," Senju Hashirama.
In this age, few had ever seen Hashirama's power firsthand. Many didn't fully grasp how terrifying that inhuman "god" once was. But their ancestors had seen it—and those ancestors passed their warnings down like sacred scripture, carved into the memories of every generation.
That inherited fear, that spiritual dread, still lingered.
Among the brave and foolish, a few dared to question whether the Wood Release was truly so terrifying. Some upstarts, ignorant of history, might scoff at the legend—believing the fear was just myth.
But that kind of thinking only took root in times of peace, far from real battlefields like this one.
Now, confronted with Orochimaru—a man wielding true Wood Release—the three jōnin realized this was no myth.
This wasn't just fear of the jutsu itself.
It was him. Orochimaru, wielding Hashirama's power.
An unstoppable man with an unstoppable force.
Their spirits wavered. Though they didn't stop their attacks, their resolve crumbled. Their will to die for their village—the pride that had driven their defiance—was quietly extinguished.
Even the thunder that danced from their fingers had dimmed. Their jutsu weakened. Their chakra faltered.
Because chakra was born of both body and spirit—and now their spirit was broken.
Orochimaru, unmoved, effortlessly repelled their lightning. A small smile curled at the corners of his lips.
'Shaping Body'—a Sage Art used by the Snake Princess to alter her own form—could also be used to connect with kin like Manda or the White Snake Sage. By channeling it through Hashirama cells or even Yamato's, he could forcefully grow trees, mimicking Wood Release.
It wasn't perfect. Not true Wood Release. But it was enough.
When he used it just now, it was instinctive—a flash of insight choosing the best counter to lightning. He hadn't expected it to break their spirits.
But it had.
And watching that was satisfying.
Even if they chose to fight to the death, they couldn't change the outcome. They'd only be wasting his time.
Yet this moment—watching their morale crumble—was entertaining in itself.
---
On the other side, unexpectedly, Killer Bee did not flee while his comrades stalled for time.
Instead, he turned around—coming back toward the battlefield.
"I'll be the one to hold them off," he said calmly.
With sweeping gestures, he commanded: "You three—run. Now."
"My lord, but—!"
"Do as I say!" Killer Bee barked, cutting them off.
"This is no time to hesitate. Go!"
The three jōnin clenched their jaws. Then, without another word, they turned and fled toward the Land of Lightning.
Their will to fight had already collapsed—but now, they had a legitimate excuse to retreat. Their speed doubled.
Shisui's squad didn't pursue them.
Their eyes were on Killer Bee now.
Compared to ordinary jōnin, the Eight-Tails Jinchūriki was the real target.
No one doubted his identity. This wasn't a clone.
The sheer weight of his chakra, boiling with the tailed beast's power, was unmistakable. He wasn't hiding it—on the contrary, he was flaunting it, making sure they stayed focused on him and not the others.
Orochimaru licked his lips, his expression tightening with unease.
It was Killer Bee.
He had fought against S-rank rogues just moments earlier. He couldn't possibly be a clone. Orochimaru's own sensory jutsu, and that of the Lamp Djinn, had been tracking him the entire time. There was no opening for a switch.
And yet… something felt off.
This moment, this action, this sacrifice—it didn't make sense.
Unless…
Unless Killer Bee wasn't who he seemed to be after all.
"So it's a fake…"
That would explain why Kumogakure was willing to put all their hopes on a single gamble—why they were so desperate to chase after Tsunade, even if it meant exposing themselves.
That would explain why Killer Bee chose to stay behind now, buying time for his companions to escape, seemingly at the cost of his life.
—
Behind him, the Djinn was deep in thought as well. Orochimaru's doubts were his doubts.
Could Killer Bee really have some hidden method to escape Konoha's encirclement at this moment? Or was there something else going on…?
The Djinn frowned. A thought suddenly struck him—a memory from the original timeline, the battle between Sasuke and Killer Bee. His eyes narrowed, and he quickly passed the idea to Orochimaru through their mental link.
"Reverse summoning? No... unlikely," Orochimaru muttered. "The Eight-Tails' chakra is far too massive. The shinobi of Kumogakure aren't particularly skilled with chakra control, and they lack a summoning contract with any of the Three Great Sanctuaries to absorb the cost."
"Compared to that…"
Orochimaru raised an eyebrow, then raised his hand to halt Shisui and the others.
He stared at the defiant Killer Bee, who was still cloaked in the red aura of the Tailed Beast, eight tails lashing in wild arcs.
"Is this your clone?"
Killer Bee's expression shifted slightly. Beneath the blindfold, his eyes flickered. But he didn't reply. He kept up the act—rage, desperation, power surging.
"A clone?" Shisui echoed, startled. The others exchanged confused glances.
From what they had observed, Killer Bee seemed completely real—definitely not a shadow clone. But if Orochimaru was saying this… then there had to be something more.
Orochimaru pressed on. "Is this some unique ability of the Eight-Tails?"
Killer Bee's eyelid twitched. He had been found out.
This "Killer Bee" was indeed a clone—but not an ordinary one. It was created from one of the Eight-Tails' tentacles. Unlike normal shadow clones, this one wouldn't disappear with a single hit. It could fight with nearly the full strength of a proper jinchūriki.
However, if defeated, it wouldn't just vanish. The chakra would return to the original body, yes—but the tentacle itself would remain behind.
It was a costly move, comparable to how the Gold and Silver Brothers once stole the Nine-Tails' chakra. If the tentacle wasn't recovered, it would become a permanent loss for the Eight-Tails.
According to Gyūki, this was its first time using such a technique—so how had Orochimaru already figured it out?
"Just as I thought."
Orochimaru didn't need Killer Bee to answer. The slight change in his breathing, the faint shift in stance—it was enough. The chakra in Orochimaru's hand dissipated.
If this had been the real Eight-Tails jinchūriki, eliminating or capturing him would have been a massive strategic victory, possibly tipping the balance of power between the villages.
But a tentacle clone? At best, it was a curiosity. At worst, a waste of effort.
To a beast as massive as the Eight-Tails, a single tentacle was like a strand of hair—trivial.
Even more so, Killer Bee still hadn't shown the true might of his perfect jinchūriki form.
Orochimaru paused again, thoughtful.
"No… something still doesn't add up."
He looked at Killer Bee again, eyes narrowing.
Killer Bee's presence here would not go unnoticed by Iwagakure. The moment he appeared, the world would assume one thing: that the Fourth Raikage had been seriously injured, possibly incapacitated.
But if Kumogakure truly wanted to avoid war, wouldn't the better tactic have been to fake the Raikage's survival? To let him remain hidden, "recovering" in secrecy?
Then what was Kumogakure's real goal?
Orochimaru's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Kumogakure kidnapped Tsunade… was it really to heal the Fourth Raikage?"
"Or… was it just to threaten Konoha?"