[NTU] [ARC-25] Chapter : 329

After a brief, chilling exchange between master and apprentice—

“Heh… Looks like I win.”

Orochimaru smirked as he turned his gaze to Sasuke, now ensnared once again by the First Hokage’s Wood Release. He shifted his attention to the legendary shinobi standing beside him.

“As expected from the First Hokage. Even with an imprecise summoning, you still managed to surprise me…”

Unlike the Second Hokage, who remained fully under Orochimaru’s control, the First had resisted. When Sasuke struck from the air moments ago, the First Hokage had momentarily defied the jutsu with sheer willpower and overwhelming strength.

“Uchiha… boy… I’m sorry…”
The First looked toward Sasuke, trapped by his own jutsu, then turned a heavy gaze on Orochimaru.

“Your aura… it’s unnatural. Just what… are you planning…?”

Even shackled by cursed seals and powerful ninjutsu, the First Hokage’s strength allowed him to speak, though only in broken fragments. The malevolence radiating from Orochimaru disturbed him deeply.

“What a terrifying will…” Orochimaru muttered, reinforcing the jutsu to suppress the First's defiant spirit. “If I had summoned you at full strength… I might’ve been the one to die.”

He turned his focus back to Sasuke, lying still, seemingly resigned.

“Such a flawless vessel. The Uchiha bloodline truly is extraordinary.”
“And now… I shall claim it without hesitation.”

With unhurried steps, Orochimaru approached. He cast intricate sealing jutsu, immobilizing Sasuke further, locking down even the faintest twitch.

“As for you and the Second Hokage,” he said coldly, “your task is complete. Return to the afterlife.”

With a few hand signs, the Edo Tensei was released. The legendary brothers dissolved into ash and light.

There were no interruptions.

Orochimaru transported Sasuke to a secluded, sinister chamber—his prepared sanctuary for the rebirth ritual. In the center stood a stone platform, carved with ancient seals and glowing with chakra lines.

He laid Sasuke on the altar, methodically initiating the complex process of reincarnation.

Every movement, every seal, was precise. It was clear he had spent years preparing for this moment.

“Not even the Uchiha's immense mental fortitude can resist my jutsu under these conditions,” Orochimaru whispered, his voice trembling with anticipation.

“Sasuke… you should feel honored. You’re about to become one with me—to witness immortality. A divine gift.”

Sasuke remained silent, his eyes calm and unreadable.

Intrigued, Orochimaru chuckled and licked his lips.

“Hehehe… Still so composed? Have you surrendered… or are you plotting something?”
“Not that it matters. The outcome won’t change.”

Ignoring Sasuke’s stillness, Orochimaru began weaving a new series of hand signs. As the final seals formed, the runes around the altar lit up—one by one, pulsing with eerie light.

The symbols etched into the stone gleamed ominously, casting flickering shadows across the chamber. Orochimaru’s eyes glowed gold, slitted like a serpent’s, reflecting the dark light of the ritual.

“Sasuke… become mine!”

As the final glyph blazed and then faded, the once-illuminated room sank into darkness. Silence fell—cold, absolute.

Inside their shared spiritual plane, a different battle had begun. One that would decide the fate of Sasuke’s soul.

From the outset, Sasuke was at a disadvantage. Orochimaru's mental traps, in the cursed seal, were already restricting his spiritual strength.

“Feeling the pressure?” Orochimaru’s voice echoed through the void, taunting. “You can sense it, can’t you? Your mental energy is sluggish, obscured. There's no escape, boy.”

As Sasuke’s spiritual form wavered, Orochimaru’s image morphed—his physical body liquefying into a grotesque, flesh-colored bubble. He floated above a vast psychic sea, the manifestation of their inner struggle.

“So these are your tricks?” Sasuke said coolly, unfazed by the grotesque form enveloping him.

The bubble pulsed, and within its transparent mass, eerie faces swam—twisted remnants of those who had previously been consumed.

But Sasuke's gaze remained sharp.

And he wasn’t done yet.

"Those faces… are they the people whose bodies you’ve taken?"

"Indeed. And soon, you'll join them. In the end, none of you are going to be different from me."

Orochimaru didn’t even spare a glance at the distorted souls drifting in the mental space—the remnants of those he had devoured. His gaze remained locked on Sasuke, voice cold and detached.

By now, he knew exactly what to expect. If Sasuke had any last-ditch resistance, it would reveal itself soon. All he had to do was suppress it, and the boy’s powerful body would be his.

“Hmm… something’s not right…”

As time dragged on, Sasuke remained eerily passive. Orochimaru sensed no resistance—no desperation or mental struggle. Sasuke simply stood there, allowing his spiritual energy to be slowly consumed.

At this rate, the takeover would soon be complete.

But something about it felt wrong. Too easy. Too quiet.

Orochimaru narrowed his eyes, scanning for hidden traps or anomalies, but Sasuke’s form was bound tightly in spiritual restraints. Only his blood-red eyes remained visible.

"Come now, Sasuke-kun… show me the true power of the Uchiha!"

With a final surge of will, Orochimaru wrapped him in a cocoon of mental force, aiming to end the transfer once and for all.

"In that case…" Sasuke’s voice echoed with chilling calm. "Let me show you the true difference between us."

A faint, mocking smirk played on his lips as his eyes opened fully. Unfortunately, everything unfolding here was hidden in the unseen battleground of the spirit world—beyond the reach of any outside observer.

Pop.

A delicate sound, like a bubble bursting, echoed in the void.

It was subtle, yet it made Orochimaru freeze.

His eyes widened.

"Genjutsu…?"

Sasuke’s form had vanished—dissolved into bubbles, gone without a trace. Orochimaru stood stunned, his mind racing.

"Impossible. This is a battle of spiritual energy—the rawest form of combat. Illusions shouldn’t work here."

In a psychic clash like this, victory came only through overwhelming the opponent’s soul, crushing their mental defenses until nothing remained. Illusions had no foothold here—or so he believed.

“You can only restrain the opponent’s spirit, suppress their consciousness until they break. There shouldn’t be any room for deception…”

Orochimaru’s confidence faltered.

And then he heard it.

A voice—clear, cold, and cutting—drifted through the void like a blade drawn across silk.

"How could a creature that’s crawled on its belly all its life possibly understand the height of the sky?"

Sasuke's voice.

Firm. Unshaken. Arrogant.

"Is that all you have left, Orochimaru? Your final thoughts?"

"If so… then die."

Orochimaru looked up, following the voice, and what he saw robbed him of words.

Above, the sky of the spirit realm had turned crimson—bathed in blood-red light. A single massive eye floated high overhead, glowing with ancient power. It gazed down upon him, cold and emotionless.

The Mangekyō Sharingan.

It loomed above like a blood sun, casting a suffocating presence across the entire space.

To Orochimaru, it was the same look he gave his test subjects—detached, analytical, and uncaring.

And now… he was the one being observed.

“Whose pattern is that…?”

This wasn’t Toshiro Uchiha’s Mangekyō. It didn’t belong to Fugaku either… or even Itachi.

The revelation clawed at his mind.

“What is this power…?”

For the first time, Orochimaru felt it—not curiosity, not desire.

But dread.

He squinted instinctively, trying to block out the blinding light radiating from the eye.

But no matter how hard he tried…

He could no longer look it in the eye.