Chapter 33: The Hidden Trump Card

With a swift motion, Hiruzen seized Orochimaru's soul, pulling it into the grasp of the Shinigami. Orochimaru screamed, his form convulsing as the reaper's cold hand closed around him. But the process was slow, and Orochimaru fought back with all his might.

A predatory gleam flashed in Orochimaru's eyes. With a sinister smirk, he reared back, his chest expanding as he drew in a colossal breath. The air around him seemed to thin, sucked into the maw of the beast. For a moment, time itself appeared to stand still, the only sound the eerie whistling of the wind as it was drawn into the vortex of his breath.

Then, with a roar that shook the heavens, Orochimaru unleashed his attack. A torrent of blazing energy erupted from his mouth, a searing beam of intense heat and destructive power. The beam, blindingly bright, cut through the darkened sky like a lance of divine wrath, casting harsh shadows and illuminating the landscape with an infernal glow. The dragon's breath surged forward, a harbinger of utter annihilation.

The Sound Four formed a formidable barrier to protect themselves, but the structures around them were incinerated in an instant, reduced to ash and molten slag. The ground itself seemed to melt and bubble under the ferocious heat, leaving behind a scorched and blackened trail in the attack's wake. The beam continued its relentless advance, a river of fire and destruction that seemed unstoppable.

Hiruzen's half-body was incinerated in an instant, reduced to ash, breaking the Reaper Death Seal. Orochimaru took soul damage as well, but it was not severe enough to kill him. The real damage, however, was due to the side effects of the dragon's breath.

The intense heat generated by the dragon's breath attack caused severe internal damage to Orochimaru. His throat and lungs felt as if they were being scorched from the inside out. Each breath became a struggle, the air searing his lungs and leaving a trail of pain with every inhale and exhale.

The energy required to unleash such a powerful attack caused his muscles to convulse and tear. His arms, the conduits for the attack, were wracked with spasms, the skin blistering and splitting as if it were being cooked from within. The strain on his body was evident, every fiber of his being pushed to its absolute limit.

The sheer force of channeling the dragon's breath caused microfractures in his bones. His skeleton, though strong, was not built to withstand such overwhelming power. The sensation was akin to being crushed from the inside, each movement sending waves of agony through his body.

The exertion required to perform the attack drained him of his vital energy. His vision blurred, and his strength waned rapidly. He felt a cold, numbing fatigue settle in, as if his very life force were being siphoned away. The aftereffects left him weak and vulnerable, barely able to stand.

As the flames subsided, the aftermath was evident on his body. His skin bore the marks of intense burns, patches of charred flesh that would never fully heal. The scarring was a permanent reminder of the cost of wielding such power, a testament to the dangerous bargain he had struck.

The psychological toll was just as severe. The human mind was not meant to control such primal forces. He felt a creeping madness at the edges of his consciousness, a constant battle to retain his sanity. The experience left him haunted, plagued by nightmares of fire and destruction.

As the last remnants of the dragon's breath attack faded into the smoke-filled air, Orochimaru collapsed to his knees. His body trembled uncontrollably, the aftershocks of the power still coursing through him. He looked at the destruction he had wrought, both upon the battlefield and upon himself.

Seeing their master weakened, the Sound Four quickly moved to retrieve Orochimaru. They formed a protective circle around him, their faces grim and determined. With a swift series of hand seals, they performed a reverse summoning jutsu, whisking Orochimaru away from the battlefield.

As they vanished, the battlefield fell silent, the only sound the crackle of dying flames and the distant cries of battle. The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, lay lifeless, his sacrifice a testament to his unwavering resolve to protect Konoha. The village stood on the brink of devastation, but the will of fire burned on, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness.