By the time Konoha's reinforcements arrived, all that remained for them was a scene of utter devastation.
Or rather, hell.
Wave after wave of the support Konoha ninjas vomited. Even accustomed to battlefields piled with corpses and seas of blood, this scene like stacked nightmares it was too irritating.
In any era, as long as one could find rhetoric to give one's actions 'legitimacy,' it was always possible to rally one's own strength.
After all, humans are beings who need something to prop themselves up to fight. Those numb in war are easily manipulated by such rhetoric.
It's difficult for humans to contemplate reality in the gap between life and death; their spirits become paralyzed by continuous killing.
Yet from a certain extreme angle, numb people are fortunate. Because the clearer one's mind, the more easily one drowns in the guilt of killing one's own kind caught in the vortex of war, ultimately miserable perishing.
And on this foundation, the intense dissonance between killing one's own kind and 'cooking' one's own kind can easily tear the fig leaf of 'legitimacy,' cleanly crush the paralysis brought by slaughter.
Those lucky unscathed survivors and lightly wounded are also paralyzed in confusion, their companions' wails and struggles perhaps having not just the skin of the dead and injured, but also their spirits.
All Konoha ninjas were naturally deeply shocked by the sight before them.
Except for Orochimaru.
This pale-skinned ninja, radiating cold breath, merely slightly furrowed his brow, then stepped without scruple into this hell on earth.
Ever since that student of his, eager for merit, had ignored his command in a skirmish and charged straight into a trap, fatally wounded by exploding tags, Orochimaru had become even more acutely aware of one fact:
Regardless of original purpose, so-called war is merely something that causes everything to collapse and destroy.
And life already fragile to the extreme, in war is even more like the vast fields of withered grass crushed by a passing breeze.
His parents were like this; his disciple was the same. Identity, status on the battlefield, there was no distinction. People might hesitate due to these things, but weapons do not.
His view of life and death grew increasingly extreme, his temperament increasingly gloomy. A mere hellscape what did it matter in his eyes now?
"From the traces, it's a technique similar to Boil Release. The Five-Tails jinchūriki from Iwa? Or someone from Kiri... No. However the village's intelligence division, they wouldn't let Iwa or Kiri slip into this area."
In the current Land of Rain, Iwa's numbers were at best ' Remnant Party.' With Ōnoki the old potato's personality, if he dispatched a jinchūriki, he absolutely wouldn't send only this few support troops.
Moreover, entering now wasn't Iwa's style either.
And after the Land of Whirlpools was destroyed, losing its overseas barrier, Konoha's vigilance toward Kirigakure had increased manifold.
Though practically crushed by Hanzō on the Rain front, the very fact that they hadn't been killed by Hanzō still at his peak in a single encounter was itself proof of their strength.
So when the war with Rain concluded and Suna suddenly produced long-hidden new equipment, the three, originally planning to return to the village for rest, headed to the Suna front instead.
Among the three dubbed the 'Legendary Sanin,' Orochimaru was undoubtedly currently the strongest and most battlefield-adapted.
Even with reservations about the village's intelligence division, he wouldn't question they failed at even this most basic work.
"So... a similar effect achieved by combining a technique that generates instant high heat with large-scale water release? Suna's Gojō Satoru and Pakura?"
Considered by Hiruzen Sarutobi to possess talent surpassing his own, Orochimaru's understanding and acumen of ninjutsu were second to none in all Konoha.
After overturning his initial speculation, he immediately thought of one among Suna's three rising jōnin.
Though not having fought them due to different battlefronts, Orochimaru had still reviewed relevant information.
Puppeteer Yorozu Kōkichi and taijutsu master Fushiguro Tōji, two different systems, he had no interest in them. But Suna's 'Water Release Master' prefix greatly attracted Orochimaru.
Ablities honed in the desert to the level recorded in reports it was Abormal he could achieve something like this. The only questionable point was that Scorch Release user: how did she evaporate all this water and escape unscathed?
Though Pakura's Scorch Release Fireballs could indeed be released remotely; the range clearly hadn't reached this extent, spanning almost half the town, let alone the scale.
As for escaping unscathed... obviously. Even Konoha, with resources to this extent, didn't use their mass-produced bloodline-limited users as scorch releases. Would Suna sacrifice their only Scorch Release user?
"Interesting..."
Even Orochimaru, without questioning others, relying solely on observation of the scene and casualties, could only deduce this far. Even guessing the 'method' required hearing specific details before further judgment.
Relying solely on experience to arbitrarily make judgments was always a researcher's cardinal sin.
Moreover, he felt this horrific hell still lingered with an unusual odor.
Not the air's physiologically unacceptable smell, but a more subtle, harder-to-describe 'atmosphere'.
As is well known, snakes without external ear openings aren't
particularly sensitive to airborne sound. Conversely, they are particularly sensitive to vibrations transmitted through objects via bone conduction.
Combining cheek pit temperature perception with bone conduction could even achieve near mind-reading physiological state control. Simply closing their mouths and pheromone intrusion allowed them to effortlessly achieve selective acceptance and isolation of specific information.
Snakes are natural information processing experts; without outstanding performance, they couldn't survive brutal natural competition.
Orochimaru, inseparable from snakes in name, temperament, and ninjutsu, was naturally a master in this regard.
Though never exposed to similar power, the residue of 'cursed energy's lingering fragrance' still constantly teased his nerves.
Like a snake hissing outside a wall, a spider pacing across a wrist, some beast yawning in a distant tree, claws sharpening on bark subtle sounds that seemed both present and absent.
This novel sensation it was hard for Orochimaru not to be interested.
If Hii Kōri were still here, he'd likely be quite pleased. Even meeting on the battlefield and separating on the battlefield, it wouldn't preclude mutual attraction due to certain similarities.
But to outsiders, Orochimaru standing in this 'meat soup' smiling was far too goddamn twisted.
"How long will you stand there? By the time you finish vomiting, who knows how many more of these survivors will die."
Sensing the gaze from behind, he turned and scraped a glance increasingly snake-like at the Konoha ninjas, reproaching in his instantly recognizable hoarse voice.
If alone, he'd probably find a few relatively healthy people to question, then simply ignore the other wounded.
From his perspective, considering treatment costs and success rates, nearly eighty percent of these survivors were simply wasting medical resources. And among those who could successfully survive, probably five to seven out of ten would be cut off from ninja life forever.
Injuries to hands and feet, eyes, throat, even internal organs, any of these was a fatal blow to a ninja.
Instead of using already scarce supplies on them, better to conserve them.
But such words lacking 'Will of Fire' couldn't be spoken to village comrades...
Unknown who he inwardly sneered at, Orochimaru reached the 'center' and suddenly noticed an unexpected little bump on the ground.
Cracking it open, a ninja covered in burn blisters, hair nearly all fallen out, half-deadly lying inside.
It was that Sarutobi clan commander who'd pursued Gojō Satoru unsuccessfully, then took his water release and been the first hit by steam.
Before the steam scorched him, he'd cast earth release to wrap himself. Though now like a beggar's chicken, the effect-wise it had indeed protected his life.
"You're saying two of the three who attacked the camp were special clones, and that 'Gojō "Satoru' changed into a red-haired appearance at the end?"
Moments later, in a makeshift tent, he asked with great interest from the hospital bed where the Sarutobi jōnin, bound like a mummy in gauze, lay.
The latter, barely regaining consciousness, nodded laboriously, then collapsed onto the bed as if using his last strength.
"Iron Sand clones... red hair... Heh, interesting..."
Though initially seeking more information to clarify the situation, after obtaining a precise description, the whole affair became even more exaggerated and confusing.
In a ninja's career, this is certainly not rare, but when actually encountered, it's enough to make the person involved feel a kind of... "Yes."
A red-haired guy, using special cloning techniques to disguise himself as Suna's three currently prominent jōnin, single-handedly attacking this stronghold?
Did that make sense?
On second thought, perhaps not so unreasonable.
If viewed from the perspective that 'those three jōnin were disguised by that red-haired...' ninja alone from the beginning,' many things instead made sense. For instance, why there had been no intelligence on those three jōnin before. Or why, despite records of simultaneous appearances, they were always in the same battle zone.
They three were like bricks wherever needed, moved there. Suna, even more lacking in talent, how could they so inefficiently utilize three quite capable jōnin?
Problem solved, wasn't it?
As for how one ninja mastered so many different tendencies abilities... Don't ask. Geniuses do exist in this world.
Though possibly boastful, he himself was also a versatile. His teacher Hiruzen Sarutobi, his teacher's teacher Tobirama Senju the same.
Rather than the Sarutobi jōnin fabricating lies to escape responsibility, Orochimaru instead found his account more credible.
After all, this could be verified by asking other survivors. Not to mention whether the Sarutobi jōnin could collude with others under these circumstances even if he could, he couldn't fabricate such a premise even sci-fi novels wouldn't adopt.
"Red hair, skilled in puppetry, taijutsu, Wind and Water Releases, suspected of mastering Magnet Release kekkei genkai... For now, let the intelligence division investigate based on these characteristics."
Summoning a messenger ninja and assigning this task, even Orochimaru found it a bit hard to maintain composure.
Due to sight distorted by water release flow, the Sarutobi jōnin could only judge red hair details like appearance, height, weight entirely unprovidable.
Sending the intelligence division to investigate based solely on 'red hair' was indeed too much to ask. After all, in the Land of Wind, red-haired people outnumbered stray dogs.
As for good at techniques... also hard to treat as valuable intelligence especially regarding Sunagakure.
Though among the five countries, besides Fire Country, the other four's territories each have their own grooves, Wind Country was also the most outstanding in 'wasteland.'
Water Country's islands weren't actually too harsh an environment. Lightning Country's plateaus were tolerable, just a bit noisy. Earth Country's cascading mountains hindered external communication, but for those seeking stability, it wasn't bad as a secluded spot.
Sending spies to these countries was relatively easy to justify.
Well then, pressure now on the Wind Country spy teams.
The most important thing about Long-term espionage was a plausible identity.
But---
What kind of illness would you have to want to settle in Wind Country?.
Fell in love with a Wind Country girl? Possible, but this excuse couldn't be overused. Business? Possible, but everyone knows Wind Country's business environment. Going in to make money was normal but staying long-term, opening a shop there? Was that not thinking straight?
Even setting aside all that say, opening a teahouse near trade routes still hard to approach Sunagakure, let alone infiltrate and gather ninja intelligence.
Originally established relay stations and intelligence points still existed, but with trade collapse between Wind and Fire, getting intelligence out to Konoha became difficult, switching to stealth mode.
Developing local agents was also possible, but the same problem as relay stations: now it is difficult to send intelligence.
Geographical advantage what can I say, geographical advantage!
Though experiencing just how stagnant an intelligence apparatus repeatedly without core could be, this was the first time Orochimaru so desperately wanted to replace an expert truly skilled in this area to control the intelligence division.
"Hmm... Alright. So what should we call this guy?"
The messenger ninja apparently also thought of this issue, his expression somewhat at odds with his concern for comrades. To preserve his bottom line, he seized an excuse to change the subject.
Considering the injuries of Konoha ninjas outside, and the red-haired ninja's only physical features, Orochimaru settled on his code name.
"For now, let's call that guy 'Crimson of Agony.'"
***
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