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As Orochimaru finished speaking, confusion swept through the crowd.
No one understood Orochimaru's bizarre behavior. Moments ago, he had delivered a spectacle of power, only to be unceremoniously sent crashing from the heavens to the ground by Kirito's flying kick. Now, battered and seriously injured, Orochimaru had the audacity to speak as though he was still in control.
"Has this guy been kicked in the head?" someone muttered.
Just as the spectators began questioning Orochimaru's sanity, his voice rose in a sudden roar, addressing no one in particular:
"What are you waiting for? If Kirito doesn't die, I can't continue my plan!"
Everyone turned their attention to the empty space Orochimaru was yelling at.
The next moment, the air shimmered, twisting into a vortex. Out of it stepped a figure clad in a black cloak patterned with red clouds. His face was hidden behind an orange mask with a spiral design.
The battlefield fell silent.
Sarutobi Hiruzen, recovering his strength in secret, felt a jolt of dread. He didn't know the man's identity, but the cloak alone was unmistakable—this was a member of the Akatsuki, the shadowy organization feared across the ninja world.
The jonin of Konoha, those who understood the weight of this revelation, exchanged grim looks. Kakashi's lone visible eye narrowed as his gaze fixed on the intruder.
The masked man spoke, his voice heavy and commanding:
"I, Uchiha Madara, have arrived. It's time for Konoha to face judgment."
His words rippled through the battlefield like a thunderclap.
Ninjas froze mid-battle, their eyes widening in disbelief.
"Did I hear that right?" one whispered.
"Did he say Uchiha Madara?"
"The same Madara who rivaled the First Hokage?"
The name alone sent chills down their spines.
In the ruins of the battlefield, the reanimated Hashirama and Tobirama Senju exchanged uneasy glances. Could it really be him? Had Madara somehow survived all these years?
Amid the growing panic, Might Guy leaned toward Kakashi. "Kakashi, could that really be Madara? He's supposed to be a figure of legend!"
Kakashi's voice was measured but strained. "I don't know. There have been rumors of his survival, but no one's ever confirmed it."
Yuhi Kurenai, standing nearby, spoke in disbelief. "Madara? That's impossible. He's from the same era as the First Hokage. How could he still be alive?"
Sarutobi Asuma, grim-faced, added, "It's not impossible. A man like Madara may have discovered forbidden techniques to extend his life. If it's true, Konoha is in serious danger."
Naruto, ever oblivious, pointed at the masked man with wide eyes. "Sasuke, who's that guy? Why does everyone look so scared?"
Sasuke, however, stood paralyzed, his gaze locked on the masked figure. The name "Uchiha Madara" echoed in his mind, stirring a mix of awe and unease. Madara was a legend, the Uchiha clan's greatest leader—the one who had elevated their name to a symbol of power throughout the ninja world.
Snapping out of his daze, Sasuke turned to Naruto and hissed, "Stop pointing at him, idiot. Do you want to die?"
Naruto blinked in confusion but lowered his hand.
Meanwhile, Sarutobi Hiruzen's expression darkened. The masked man's claim to be Uchiha Madara was troubling enough, but even if it was a lie, his mere affiliation with the Akatsuki meant he was a formidable enemy.
Orochimaru, bloodied but grinning, rose unsteadily to his feet. He drank in the fear on Sarutobi's face and the chaos among the Konoha ninjas.
"Tsk, tsk. Look at you all, trembling. Sarutobi Hiruzen, do you regret it now? Do you regret your decision to cast me aside?" Orochimaru sneered, his voice dripping with malice.
"When I wanted to become Hokage, you passed over me for a junior. You denied me access to Konoha's forbidden techniques, then drove me out of the village like a criminal. And for what? Look at where your decisions have brought Konoha!"
Sarutobi Hiruzen remained silent, though guilt gnawed at him. He had once had the chance to end Orochimaru's schemes before they began but had hesitated, letting the snake escape. Now, the consequences of his mercy had come back to haunt him.
Orochimaru turned his attention to Kirito, his voice laced with venom.
"And you, Kirito, do you regret challenging me? Look at what you've brought upon yourself."
Kirito met Orochimaru's gaze with calm defiance. The snake's bravado amused him.
"What's so impressive about calling for backup?" Kirito muttered. "A fake Uchiha Madara? Really?"
The masked man, seemingly unfazed, descended to the ground, his Sharingan glowing ominously through the eyehole. His voice was cold and resolute.
"Kirito, I, Uchiha Madara, sentence you to death. Speak your last words now, or prepare for a slow and agonizing end."
Kirito raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"Seriously? You want me to surrender because you said so?" he retorted. "Let me tell you something. Even if you *were* the real Madara, I wouldn't back down. And you… you're nothing but a pretender."
Kirito's confidence was unshaken. He had sensed the presence of the masked man long before he appeared. The disturbance in space was a clear sign of a skilled user of space-time ninjutsu, and there were few in the ninja world capable of such techniques.
Kirito had suspected it was Obito, and now the man's overblown declarations only confirmed it. The masked man's hostility made sense—Obito likely sought revenge for having his identity exposed within the Akatsuki.
Smiling to himself, Kirito prepared for the battle ahead. "Uchiha Obito," he thought. "If you're here for payback, I hope you're ready for the consequences."
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