Orochimaru’s Magic Lamp

The effects of the White Shocking Technique faded quickly. As the light dimmed and the sound subsided, Kabuto sensed the Susanoo in front of him and knew it was time to retreat.

Behind him, the sound of rushing wind signaled an incoming attack. Without hesitation, he leapt away into the distance, leaving only his voice behind:

"Jiraiya, for the sake of Lord Orochimaru, I spared their lives. But if they don't get help soon, they won't survive. It's your choice—chase me, or save them."

The forest fell silent. Darkness returned, not even a cricket's chirp disturbed the night.

Jiraiya slowly opened his eyes, wiping the dried tears and secretions from the corners. His vision cleared, and he looked around.

Of the two Anbu squads, only the Uchiha were still standing.

His ears still rang. He hadn't heard everything Kabuto said, but the meaning was clear enough. The choice was obvious.

Jiraiya sighed to himself. He understood now that with a wide-range, high-impact ninjutsu like Kabuto's, a siege tactic would be useless. The overwhelming light and sound rendered most attacks ineffective—and continuing the fight would only put more lives at risk.

"You two, take care of the wounded and bring them back to the village. Hand them over to Lady Tsunade," Jiraiya ordered. "I'll handle the pursuit."

"Let me come too, Lord Jiraiya. I can help," Uchiha Shinsuke said, rubbing his reddened nose bitterly. "I don't know how Kabuto suddenly got so strong, but a jutsu like that must have limitations. He can't use it often."

The reasoning made sense. But Jiraiya turned to Shisui. Though Susanoo had already vanished by the time Shisui opened his eyes, the burst of chakra was unmistakable. Between the two, Jiraiya was more inclined to take the stronger of the two with him.

However, Shisui shook his head. "My illusions won't work against someone who can fight blind. I'll stay and tend to the wounded."

"…Alright," Jiraiya nodded. Time was short. He said no more and immediately dashed off into the night, Shinsuke close behind.

As they disappeared into the shadows, Shisui's figure suddenly split into seven clones, each one retrieving a poisoned and unconscious Anbu in a flash.

"Orochimaru wasn't lying. Kabuto really did spare them."

After checking their injuries, Shisui let out a relieved breath. He pulled out six pills and administered them—designed to suppress the poison and induce deeper sleep for safer transport.

But just as he was finishing up, the air twisted beside him. A hand emerged from a swirling vortex—its target wasn't Shisui, but the unconscious Anbu around him.

Whoosh!

As if he had eyes on the back of his head, Shisui flicked several shuriken in a tight rhythm. But the hand slipped through them like a ghost—unscathed—and began reaching again.

It stopped just short.

In a blur, Shisui had already moved the wounded to safety.

As the hand slowly withdrew into the void, Shisui's eyes narrowed. Just as Orochimaru had warned, someone was moving in the shadows—someone trying to frame Kabuto.

"Impressive speed, Shisui ," came a hoarse voice as Obito stepped from the vortex, mocking. "Still not quite the Fourth Hokage."

In a flash, Obito lunged at Shisui.

Shisui didn't react with anger. Expressionless, he turned and continued leading the injured away.

From Obito's perspective, it was like a flower blooming—Shisui's shadow clones spread out in every direction, carrying the unconscious Anbu.

Now in a clearing, Obito glanced around, irritated. He hadn't expected Shisui to retreat so thoroughly after being taunted. And if Shisui truly wanted to escape, his speed made it impossible to keep up. His reputation as "Shisui of the Body Flicker" wasn't for show.

Obito formed a hand sign, then let it fall.

This wasn't worth the effort. Whether it succeeded or failed didn't matter. The real issue was Kabuto, currently being chased by Jiraiya. Staying here too long would only complicate things.

"You're lucky," Obito muttered before vanishing back into the vortex.

Even then, Shisui didn't relax. Eyes sharp and Sharingan spinning, he scanned the area with heightened vigilance.

Meanwhile, farther away, Kabuto had finally come to a stop. He looked warily at the man in front of him—someone who bore his face.

"…Lord Orochimaru?" he asked uncertainly.

The lookalike gave a small nod. "You did well tonight, but someone interfered. Taking down Jiraiya now isn't realistic—you'll lose your edge first."

Kabuto narrowed his eyes, recalling the strange feeling earlier.

Orochimaru smiled faintly. "I want you to join that organization on your own terms—not because you're backed into a corner."

"I understand," Kabuto nodded. "While you distract Jiraiya, I'll escape."

Shff... shff...

Before they could say more, Jiraiya and Uchiha Shinsuke arrived. Both stared at the two Kabutos standing atop the trees.

"Tch... Relentless, aren't you?" one Kabuto said, licking his lips. "Can't you cut me some slack for Lord Orochimaru's sake? Must I teach you another lesson?"

The second Kabuto echoed the expression. "Very well then. Let me give Lord Jiraiya a real demonstration."

He stomped down hard on the branch beneath him and shot forward like white lightning—straight toward Jiraiya... and just off to the side, Uchiha Shinsuke.

The two attackers split up.

Jiraiya's eyes narrowed. Even with his advanced perception, he couldn't tell which was the real Kabuto and which was a clone.

But the one in front of him had a slightly stronger chakra signature. Likely the real one.

He had to finish this quickly. If Shinsuke lost to the clone and got captured, the situation would turn grim.

With that in mind, Jiraiya clapped his hands together.

"Fire Style: Fire Dragon Flame Bullet!"

A raging dragon of flame roared forward, engulfing everything in its path.

Orochimaru—or the clone—dropped from the treetops, made hand signs, and sank straight into the ground.

Trees and grass turned to blackened ash. Jiraiya landed in the clearing, closed his eyes, and sensed the area.

He slammed a palm to the ground.

"Earth Style: Yellow Spring Swamp!"

The terrain for tens of meters around him turned to thick, clinging mud—everything except the small solid patch beneath his feet. If anyone was underground, they'd be swallowed whole.

But Jiraiya frowned.

There was still a patch of hard rock beneath the surface—someone had avoided being pulled into the swamp.

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