Konoha's vanguard had already clashed with the main Sand Shinobi force. This should have been the moment for Konoha's main army to attack, but Orochimaru still held his forces back along the defensive line.
"Orochimaru, it's time to give the order to attack," Jiraiya urged anxiously, glancing at Orochimaru, who was still gazing into the distance. What was he looking at? Was he waiting to see if the vanguard had been worn down?
Orochimaru said gravely, "Don't rush. Wait a little longer."
Elsewhere, Kaede felt his body growing stiff from the poison. The wound on his arm was visibly healing, and the blood flowing from it had turned dark red, gradually returning to its normal color.
"Looks like that big-breasted cow knows a thing or two. This antidote pill must be working." Leaning against a tree, he felt unusually exhausted from the poison. Fortunately, no one had discovered the outcome of the battle here yet, and the Sand Shinobi had missed their chance to finish them off.
"I'm in a sorry state." Rain soaked his clothes from head to toe. His once-straight hair had become a sodden mess, and flecks of red blood stained him—some belonging to his enemies, some to himself.
"So this is what war is like. It really is hateful." Now he understood why someone as powerful as Madara had been so obsessed with peace that he had launched the Eye of the Moon Plan. At the moment their loved ones, friends, and comrades died, who wouldn't feel helpless? That was the misery of ordinary people. Even the God of Shinobi had witnessed the deaths of his brothers and family with his own eyes.
And he was just one among countless ordinary people—a seed that would surpass mortal limits and break through the world's barriers, taking root