Chapter 15: The Curse of the Great Toad Sage

After arranging the breathing technique training for the three students, Orochimaru lightly tapped his foot and leapt up onto the treetop. He cast a glance at the white-haired middle-aged man crouched on one of the branches and asked, “How long have you been here? Did you overhear my explanation of the breathing technique?”

“No, no, I just got here,” Jiraiya hurriedly shook his head. But when he met Orochimaru’s gloomy gaze, he scratched his head sheepishly and let out a laugh as loud as a barbell, “Hahaha… Alright, I’ve been here for a while. But so what if I heard it? With such a remarkable taijutsu, did you really think you could keep it from me?”

To Jiraiya’s surprise, Orochimaru actually nodded. “You might as well try cultivating it. The breathing technique suits you.”

In truth, Orochimaru was curious—if Jiraiya, who was capable of learning Sage Arts, trained the breathing technique to the Realm of Common Mastery, what changes might occur? When Jiraiya entered Sage Mode, would he still need to summon the two toad elders every time?

Upon hearing Orochimaru’s suggestion, Jiraiya’s demeanor grew a touch more serious as he nodded, “Alright.”

“You returned rather quickly this time,” Orochimaru remarked, casting his gaze toward the Hokage Residence, the corner of his mouth curling with a trace of mockery. “Looks like the old man is urging you quite insistently.”

“After all, given what’s happened, the old man’s got his difficulties too.” As if recalling something, Jiraiya let out a faint sigh, but soon collected himself and asked quizzically, “Orochimaru, you’re acting a bit strange today.”

The most obvious thing was that he was talking more than usual. In the past, it was always Jiraiya who initiated their conversations.

“Am I?” Orochimaru tilted his head in thought, suspecting it was simply due to the absence of a habitual chatterbox.

“I get it—you still want to be Hokage. You want my support,” Jiraiya said, shaking his head with a sleuth’s air. “I know what you’ve been up to in the village, but as for Hokage… You’ll never get the old man’s approval.”

Orochimaru let out a chilling, sinister laugh that sent shivers down one’s spine before speaking slowly, “When Minato became Hokage, I lost all interest in the position.”

“But you’re not entirely wrong. I do need your help with something.”

Hearing his disciple’s name, Jiraiya’s mood dimmed. “What do you want me to help you with?”

“Stay in the village and look after the Nine-Tails’ jinchuriki,” Orochimaru replied, baring his teeth and licking his lips. “He’s the child of Minato and Kushina—and, as it happens, you have some connection to him as well.”

Jiraiya was tempted, but after a moment’s thought, he shook his head. “No, I can’t agree to that.”

He then asked, puzzled, “That’s what you want my help with?”

Orochimaru wore a faint, ambiguous smile. “That’s right. As you said, the old man has his troubles. He doesn’t trust me, but he trusts you.”

Of course, that wasn’t the real reason—or at most, it was a trivial part of it. Orochimaru wanted to see the child with the Uzumaki bloodline and half the Yang chakra of the Nine-Tails grow stronger, hoping to someday complete his own Sage Body through him. Now, he had another reason: observing what would happen if Jiraiya, who practiced both Sage Arts and the breathing technique, continued to evolve. Neither goal could be achieved if Jiraiya were to leave the village.

Jiraiya was momentarily taken aback, clearly touched by Orochimaru’s words. He considered it seriously and, for once, grew genuinely solemn. “I can’t promise to stay in the village. I must find the Child of Prophecy spoken of by the Great Toad Sage, and guide him to make the right choices for the future of the shinobi world.”

“Are you serious?” Orochimaru looked deeply at Jiraiya. At this moment, his companion’s expression was much like when he was chasing after immortality. Suddenly, Orochimaru understood: Jiraiya had made searching for the Child of Prophecy his life’s mission.

Orochimaru recalled a time during idle conversation, when the Lamp Spirit had judged Jiraiya. The Lamp Spirit said that Jiraiya was a true shinobi, and that he trusted his companions and friends—but not himself. Even after being hailed as one of the Legendary Sannin, he had never believed he could change the shinobi world.

“Of course,” Jiraiya replied resolutely.

“Had you been so persistent with Tsunade,” Orochimaru said suddenly, “you wouldn’t have lost out to that guy back then.”

Jiraiya’s composure crumbled at once, his solemnity vanishing as he sighed, “Yeah, but what’s the use of saying that now? The dead can never win.”

“True enough. But back to business—given the current situation, you should stay in the village for a while longer.” Orochimaru wasn’t about to give up. “In a few days, the old man will convene a meeting with the clans to discuss the village’s reconstruction. You should take part as well.”

At this request, Jiraiya frowned slightly.

...

Two days later, at noon.

Outside the Hokage Residence, Fugaku Uchiha paused, his face tight and devoid of expression, visibly burdened by heavy thoughts.

The Uchiha clan had been having a rough time lately.

During the Nine-Tails’ rampage, the area ravaged was close to the Police Force headquarters, and the clan’s compound nearby had suffered damage, with some ordinary clan members lost. But because they were tasked with evacuating civilians and didn’t take part in the battle against the Nine-Tails, nearly none of the clan’s shinobi were harmed. Compared to the other ninja clans and the civilian ninja, whose losses were catastrophic, the Uchiha’s intact numbers were conspicuous—too conspicuous.

To make matters worse, rumors had spread through the village at some point. Decades ago, the village had faced a similar ‘tailed beast calamity’ when the Nine-Tails was used as a weapon. Back then, the one controlling the beast was Madara Uchiha, and in the aftermath, the First Hokage’s wounds had shortened his life, leading to an early death. Now, with another Nine-Tails attack and the Hokage’s death, the Uchiha’s reputation was once again being dragged through the mud—this time with even greater malice.

Fugaku let out a quiet sigh. By rights, as clan head, he ought to step forward to clear their name, to vow to hunt down the culprit who controlled the Nine-Tails and restore the clan’s honor. But… the one who controlled the Nine-Tails was indeed an Uchiha. And that person had vanished without a trace.

Fugaku had led people to investigate the place where the Fourth Hokage had fought, but even with the Sharingan’s keen perception, they found no clues as to how the enemy had escaped. Not even the opportunity to eliminate a traitor and sever ties remained.

Thus, Fugaku dared not speak out. Any statement would only confirm the rumors and make things worse for the clan.

Exhaling deeply, Fugaku suppressed his emotions and pushed open the conference room door, scanning the hall.

At the head of the long table sat the Third Hokage, flanked by the two Hokage advisors, Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado. Around them were other seated clan heads—Konoha’s noble families, like the ever-allied Ino-Shika-Cho trio, the Aburame clan, and others.

Suddenly, Fugaku’s gaze paused on a pale-faced man who, sensing his attention, returned a sinister smile. By his side sat a white-haired, middle-aged man.

Orochimaru and Jiraiya, two of the Legendary Sannin.

Fugaku hadn’t expected them to be present today.

“This meeting will be hard to endure,” he thought.

As if on cue, Danzo emerged from one side of the room, unfurling a map of Konoha across the long table.