"Be good, Tsunade. I'll take you to deal with Zuranon in a bit."
Uchiha Soren gently rubbed Tsunade's soft golden hair, then tilted his chin toward Minako Uzumaki, who stood nearby with a calm yet authoritative expression.
"Once Minako finishes speaking, we'll go."
Tsunade's small face instantly scrunched up.
She lowered her head and shuffled obediently to Minako's side.
Under her mother's warm yet imposing gaze, she wilted like an eggplant struck by frost.
"I'll go check on Orochimaru and the others."
Soren stepped into the inner room and saw Orochimaru and Hiruko, both lightly bandaged, taking care of the bedridden Jiraiya and Katō Dan, who looked visibly dispirited.
Hatake Sakumo and Might Duy leaned against their headboards, eyes closed, quietly resting.
The atmosphere wasn't heavy.
Someone had clearly spoken to them already—every injured person in the room seemed to be holding back a breath of frustration.
When they noticed Soren, surprise flashed across their faces.
"It hasn't been that long—have you already forgotten me?"
The familiar tone made Orochimaru's eyes gleam.
In an instant, he guessed that Konoha's Scientific Institute must have made another breakthrough.
Driven by curiosity, he hastily tossed aside the towel he had been using to wipe Jiraiya's sweat—nearly smacking it onto Jiraiya's face.
Ignoring Jiraiya's grumbling, Orochimaru jogged over, his voice tinged with expectation.
"Teacher Soren, did the Institute develop a new Bloodline Seed again?"
"This time it's different," Soren replied calmly.
"It's the transplantation of Frost Dragon bloodlines from the Magic Continent into shinobi. You'll understand the details once you join the Institute someday."
He glanced at the boy trailing behind Orochimaru.
"And that includes you too, Hiruko."
As their eyes met, the white-haired boy's face instantly flushed.
Compared to the loud and reckless Jiraiya, Hiruko wasn't weak—just different.
One was restrained, the other flamboyant.
But when it came to enemies, neither hesitated.
"Supreme Leader."
"Enough. Injured people shouldn't be moving around."
Soren stopped the group from trying to get out of bed, scanned their faces, and sensed the tension his presence had brought.
After a few reassuring words, he turned and left the room.
"Once we get back, I'm going to ask the teacher to let me join the Scientific Institute," Orochimaru said, staring at the closed door.
His mind was still fixed on Soren's tall figure and flowing silver hair, his voice gradually heating with fervor.
"I don't like fighting. Even if I became Shadow-level, I'd still be an insignificant force in both the Ninja World and the Magic Continent."
"In the teacher's eyes, I'd probably be nothing more than dust—gone with a single breath."
Orochimaru turned to Hiruko, his snake-like pupils filled with unwavering resolve.
"But if we uncover the secrets of bloodlines and kekkei genkai, we can make everyone in Konoha strong!"
"I'm useless in single combat—but if we work together, even gods will be forced to look down at us!"
The passion in his voice stirred Hiruko as well.
He clenched his fist and nodded firmly.
"You're right, Orochimaru."
"Everyone has their specialty. Our place is the laboratory. If we can achieve true bloodline fusion—even creating gods through artificial means is possible!"
"Then you two better work hard!"
Jiraiya shouted loudly from the bed.
"When you get results, make sure I'm the first test subject! I want to protect Konoha—protect our Ninja World—forever!"
"Count me in," Katō Dan added with a gentle smile.
Sakumo chuckled softly, while Might Duy burst into tears, crying out, "This is youth!"
Hearing the commotion inside, Soren glanced at Tsunade—who was clutching the hem of her clothes, pitiful and teary-eyed—then at Minako, whose face clearly said don't you dare interrupt.
He shrugged.
Taking Lilynette with him, he left the Golden Radiance Pavilion.
"Lord Soren, should we bring Sukama and the others?" Lilynette asked.
"No need. They have their own matters."
"It'll just be the two of us."
"Let's go meet Zuranon's disciples. I hope they'll give me a pleasant surprise."
The two walked toward the public cemetery.
The pairing of a handsome man and a stunning woman drew countless glances along the way.
Lilynette deliberately pushed out her full chest, wrapping both arms around Soren's, openly declaring ownership.
Many beautiful women looked on with regret, while men could only feel envy.
Jealousy didn't even arise—
the gap was simply too great.
Before long, they arrived at the cemetery.
Crooked tombstones lay scattered at random.
Wild grass and dead trees grew unchecked.
White bones littered the ground.
"Lilynette, make plans to reorganize this cemetery later."
Soren patted her slender waist.
Understanding immediately, she released his arm, drew her staff from her ninja pack, and her flirtatious expression shifted into focused seriousness.
They followed the winding dirt path deeper inside.
Negative energy gathered from countless dead surged up from the earth, forming a thin violet-black mist.
The living felt discomfort seep into their bones.
Soren sensed the faint corrosion as the negative magic brushed against his body.
If this were the only exposure, an ordinary young man would wither away within four or five years.
(Come to think of it… if I kept investing points into necromancer classes, could I eventually gain absolute control over the undead?)
Ainz Ooal Gown's race—Skeleton Mage—had advanced all the way to Ruler of Death through necromancy.
If he could dominate Ainz, the entire Great Tomb of Nazarick would fall into his hands.
The guild was filled with heteromorphic beings—rare bloodlines everywhere.
He even remembered two Golden Dragons above level eighty, obtained purely through spending resources.
Lost in thought, the two arrived before a ruined, abandoned shrine.
Clear traces of battle lingered nearby.
More than a dozen wandering skeleton soldiers noticed the living and charged forward.
"Third-Tier Magic — Holy Light!"
Warm, radiant brilliance poured from Lilynette's staff.
The moment it touched the low-tier skeletons, smoke rose from their bodies.
With a crisp crack, their joints collapsed, scattering into piles of bone.
As the clatter echoed through the air—
Two figures stepped out from the shrine.
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