Only when Xuanhui ran out of strength did the golden giant slowly lower Orochimaru to the ground.
Orochimaru still looked as though he wanted more.
He walked over to Xuanhui, who was lying by the beach, and lay down beside him.
"What do you think of that power?"
"It's incredible. I love it!"
Orochimaru glanced at Xuanhui. Beads of glistening sweat still dotted his forehead.
"Xuanhui, I think you're ready to graduate."
Despite his young age, Xuanhui now possessed the secret techniques of four clans, the eternal Mangekyō Sharingan, transplanted Hashirama cells, and a kekkei tōta he had developed himself-Light Release.
He had offense and defense, taijutsu and genjutsu, speed and strength, healing and brains.
Orochimaru smiled. He looked at Xuanhui as though admiring a work of art he had personally polished.
He had never imagined that the child he had snatched from the old man would become so powerful.
Could I beat him?
He considered it briefly, then shook his head.
No. Xuanhui's training has been far too comprehensive!
The boy already lacked nothing. If he wanted to grow stronger, all that remained was actual combat.
He would grow stronger, build his own connections, and find his own path.
A powerful wind had risen from Orochimaru's own hands!
In the near future, that wind would turn the windmill of the shinobi world!
At that thought, Orochimaru suddenly felt a little melancholy.
Deep down, he, too, longed to become the wind that set the windmill turning.
But now, he had already witnessed an even stronger wind...
"You can't put it that way, Master Orochimaru."
Xuanhui disagreed with him.
"You're never too old to learn.
The day you took me as your disciple, I accepted you as my teacher for life."
Xuanhui looked into Orochimaru's faintly trembling, serpentine eyes.
"Teacher Orochimaru,