Orochimaru’s Magic Lamp

The stubborn stone stood as immovable as a mountain, untouched even by Jiraiya's sage chakra-enhanced manipulation.

Meanwhile, the swamp churned and writhed, muddy water rising like crazed, vine-like tentacles.

"Tsk tsk… doesn't look like much," sneered 'Yakushi Kabuto', his voice eerie as he emerged from the swamp. He stepped onto a solid foothold at the center and looked up at Jiraiya, who had leapt onto a treetop.

"You're really the 'Konoha Sannin' they compare to Lord Orochimaru?"

In truth, Jiraiya's attack had only failed due to misinformation. Orochimaru was intimately familiar with Jiraiya's fighting style, but what they hadn't anticipated was Kabuto's ability to use Inorganic Reincarnation—a jutsu that allowed manipulation of all inanimate matter: soil, water, even their mixture. In this battlefield, the Yellow Spring Swamp wasn't a hindrance to Kabuto—it was an advantage.

Jiraiya narrowed his eyes, unfazed by Kabuto's taunts. He knew full well that if only one of the Sannin could remain, it wouldn't be him. Being countered due to a lack of intel was nothing new to him. What he really feared was Kabuto retreating before the battle reached its peak.

With a swift motion, Jiraiya formed hand signs, and two shadow clones appeared beside him. Together, the three unleashed a coordinated attack—fire and toad oil blazing in unison.

"Senpō: Goemon!"

(Sage Art: Goemon!)

Orochimaru's expression shifted. He recognized the technique immediately. As a former comrade, he was all too aware of its destructive potential.

"Heh… doesn't look like you're asking for mercy."

Without hesitation, he plunged his hands into the swamp, stirring the muddy waters into a raging surge.

The wall of mud and water rose to intercept the flames, but it was quickly vaporized by the immense heat—thousands of degrees incinerating it to dry crystals.

The blazing flames pressed forward like a wave of fire devouring everything.

Still calm, Orochimaru's mind reached deep—more than a hundred meters underground—and located a vein of metal. He summoned it to the surface.

Chunks of black ore erupted from the earth, replacing the evaporated mud and forming a solid stone wall that slowed the fire's advance.

Jiraiya was caught off guard. He hadn't expected this level of control from Ryūchi Cave's Sage Art—not just over water and soil, but metal and stone as well.

Was this Kabuto now akin to a Bloodline ninja who manipulated sand and iron?

Even so, Jiraiya wasn't too concerned. He'd dealt with Magnet Release users before. More importantly, Kabuto, for all his talent and youthful mastery of Sage Mode, was still young. That meant potential—but also limitations.

His chakra reserves clearly weren't at their peak. Against seasoned Kage-level opponents, he was still lacking.

"Let's see how far I can push you."

Jiraiya's gaze sharpened. Chakra surged through his meridians as the fire intensified.

The ore that Orochimaru had painstakingly extracted was reduced to molten iron in seconds, consumed by the fire dragon like jelly beans.

Despite the seemingly one-sided disadvantage, Orochimaru remained composed. He continued feeding the flames with ore, which ignited and shed impurities, leaving behind increasingly concentrated molten iron.

The molten metal formed a red-hot barrier, holding back the fire with growing strength.

As the flames began to falter, Jiraiya realized something was wrong.

He had fought countless battles, but never had he seen anything like this.

Just as he considered stopping, arrows of molten iron suddenly burst from the flames.

His pupils shrank—this was real danger.

He immediately ceased his jutsu and leapt away.

Chi-chi-chi-chi…

The scarlet arrows struck trees and vines, instantly reducing them to charcoal. Even after solidifying, the red-hot metal continued to radiate searing heat, burning through anything nearby.

Watching the devastation, Jiraiya grew tense. He hadn't quite figured out what was happening—but he knew he was being used again.

Youth is terrifying, Jiraiya thought bitterly.

At first, his defeat had been due to lack of intel. Now, it was simply a matter of lacking specialized knowledge.

But that wasn't surprising. Outside of specialized countries like the Land of Craftsmen, what shinobi would bother studying blast furnaces and metallurgy?

"A shame… If your fire were two or three thousand degrees hotter, you could've completely vaporized this metal. Then I'd be in trouble."

As the flames died down, Orochimaru compressed the remaining molten iron into a ball. The black residue formed a stone pillar that lifted Kabuto up high.

Smiling faintly at Jiraiya's grim expression, Orochimaru clapped his hands. Using the molten iron he had built up—thanks to Jiraiya's own fire—he launched another wave of red-hot arrows.

Unlike regular water arrows, which relied on sheer mass or water pressure, molten iron had both density and extreme heat. Even in Sage Mode, Jiraiya dared not let it touch him. It was more lethal than any poison.

As the flaming arrows streaked toward him, Jiraiya clapped his hands. A thick earth wall shot up in defense.

The blazing heat scorched and pitted the surface, but it stopped the arrows—barely.

Still, Jiraiya retreated, wary of Kabuto's earth manipulation. But to his relief, the worst didn't happen. Kabuto appeared unable to control the molten iron and the earth simultaneously—he was stretched too thin.

Whoosh whoosh whoosh…

Red arrows chased him through the forest, setting trees ablaze and filling the air with blistering heat. Jiraiya was forced to dodge awkwardly, but amidst the chaos, he regained his calm.

With the molten iron in play, he couldn't engage in close combat. Rasengan was out. His Fire Style would only fuel Kabuto's weapons. His Lion's Mane jutsu and Water Release were also ineffective.

He considered summoning Gamabunta, but with such a massive target, it'd be like painting a bullseye on the toad's back.

"Damn that Orochimaru… he knows me too well."

Jiraiya cursed inwardly. When this was over, Orochimaru owed him an explanation.

Despite the overwhelming odds, Jiraiya reminded himself: time was on his side. If the molten iron solidified or Kabuto's chakra ran dry, then the tide would turn.

And that was when Jiraiya would strike.

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