Chapter 42: The Fearsome Might Duy

The air was filled with the piercing sound of wind, as the sheer force of Might Duy's kick caused waves of pressure to ripple out even before he made contact. Orochimaru's eyes widened as he felt the immense force bearing down on him. He quickly brought his hands together to form seals.

"Summoning Jutsu: Triple Rashomon!"

Three massive, towering gates slammed into the ground with a deafening crash, rising to shield Orochimaru. But within moments, Duy's flying kick shattered through them one after the other, with each gate crumbling under the force of his attack in a matter of seconds.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Not even a second had passed before all three gates were utterly destroyed. Duy's foot slammed into the ground, leaving a massive crater where the kick landed.

Panting heavily, Duy knelt on one knee, the green aura of his chakra dissipating as he lost the ability to maintain the Eight Gates technique. His body was at its limit. Orochimaru, unharmed, emerged from the earth, holding a blade to Duy's throat, its cold edge just millimeters from his skin.

"Duy-kun, you've lost," Orochimaru said with a sly smile, his tongue flicking out as he spoke. Moments earlier, had he not dodged the attack, that kick would have surely killed him. The power was terrifying.

Looking at the scruffy, unshaven face of Might Duy, Orochimaru couldn't help but acknowledge how dangerous the man was. To think that this former classmate, dismissed by so many, had come this far.

"My apologies, Orochimaru-sama," Duy said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "I can only open up to the Sixth Gate for now."

"I heard you earlier," Orochimaru sheathed his blade and grinned with amusement. "You called it the Eight Gates Formation, correct? The Eight Inner Gates of the human body?"

Orochimaru, being a researcher, was well aware of the Eight Gates, a forbidden technique that pushed the human body to its absolute limits. Many of his own studies on human potential had been inspired by the concept of the Eight Gates. However, he had never imagined someone could so crudely and yet effectively force their body to open those gates.

"Indeed, Orochimaru-sama. To face someone like you, I thought I'd need to open the Eighth Gate to unleash my strongest move. But the Eighth Gate can only be opened when there's something truly worth protecting."

Duy's words struck Orochimaru. He stared at Might Duy, his expression unreadable, though his mind was racing.

"Are you trying to kill me!?"

Even Orochimaru, known for his patience and cunning, could barely suppress a shout of frustration. He had to keep his composure, though. After all, that last kick was strong enough. With the power from the Eight Gates, if Duy had opened the Seventh Gate, Orochimaru knew he wouldn't have stood a chance.

And the Eighth Gate? That was certain death—for him.

Might Duy, with his sincere expression and unassuming demeanor, didn't seem to grasp just how terrifying his own strength was. Orochimaru felt a chill run down his spine.

This man... in every sense, was a force to be reckoned with. If it hadn't been for his well-timed substitution technique, there would be nothing left of Orochimaru but a bloodstain on the ground.

That kick could have destroyed even the Third Hokage himself!

"Orochimaru-sama, can I join you now?" Duy asked anxiously, his earnestness shining through as he awaited a response.

Orochimaru's face grew serious, causing Duy to fidget nervously. Had he failed to prove himself after all?

"Just call me Orochimaru," he finally said, his tone relaxed but authoritative. "From this moment on, you'll accompany me. I'll handle the arrangements with the Hokage."

The transfer of a shinobi required official orders from the Hokage, but in the current wartime state, it was unlikely that anyone would contest Orochimaru's decision.

"Thank you, Orochimaru-sa... Orochimaru," Duy corrected himself, noticing the glare from Orochimaru's golden eyes. He smiled brightly, reassured by the acceptance.

As Orochimaru glanced around at the stunned shinobi who had been watching, many still with mouths agape, he couldn't help but reflect on the talent before him. Might Duy had absolutely no idea just how formidable he truly was.

"Kin really has a knack for discovering talent," Orochimaru thought.

As they began their march toward the battlefront in the Land of Rain, Orochimaru led the way, his mind focused. The shinobi in his unit moved swiftly through the trees, their movements blending into the natural surroundings, leaving only fleeting shadows that the common eye would mistake for birds in flight.

Orochimaru, always meticulous in his planning, had placed Duy near the rear of the formation, just ahead of the jonin named Ran.

Ran slowed his pace, falling back to run alongside Duy. His voice was low, filled with unspoken concern.

"You shouldn't be going to war," Ran said quietly.

"Ran-kun..." Duy began, but Ran cut him off.

"You've got a wife and child at home. What's going to happen to them if you don't come back?" Ran's voice trembled slightly with the weight of his own emotions.

Ran had always mocked Duy, belittled him. But now, faced with the reality of Duy's strength and the path he was choosing, Ran was filled with a mixture of envy and sorrow.

"Do you know, Duy? I've always belittled you, and yes, I've looked down on you. But truthfully, I've also always envied you."

Ran was part of the same class as Orochimaru and Duy, though he had been relegated to the lower C-class. Through sheer grit and determination, he had clawed his way up to become a jonin, but it had come at the cost of any personal life. He had sacrificed everything for power, for rank. Unlike Duy, Ran had given up on ever having a family, knowing that his life could end on some battlefield far from home.

"I've given up on ever having a family. I'll die for the village someday, and I've accepted that. But you... you had the life I always wanted. You have a wife, a son... You could live out your days in peace. Why throw that away? Why dive into the bloodshed when you've already escaped it?"

For those like Ran, who had tasted war and survived its horrors, Duy represented the peaceful life they wished for but could never attain. He had been the ideal they clung to in the back of their minds—a man who had escaped the blood-soaked path of a shinobi.

"Ran-kun," Duy responded, his ever-present smile still warm as he raised a thumbs-up. "I want to protect you all."

Ran opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he turned away and pressed forward. Perhaps that simple desire to protect was what made Duy so different from the rest of them.

Orochimaru's unit soon reached the edge of a forest, and the group came to a sudden halt as Orochimaru raised his hand. All eyes turned toward the distance, where shadowy figures began to emerge from the trees ahead.

Shinobi bearing the symbol of the Sand Village—the Sunagakure—stood before them.

"Sunagakure," Orochimaru muttered, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto a middle-aged man at the center of the group.

"Ebizo..." he whispered, recognizing the formidable elder of the Sand. This was going to be a tough battle.

Something had clearly gone wrong on the front lines with Sakumo Hatake. Orochimaru prepared for what was to come.