Though Orochimaru had snarled that he would "bite off a chunk of flesh,"
when his golden snake eyes
met Sen's dark, deep-green gaze,
from every crevice between his bones,
in an instant,
an uncontrollable, bone-chilling cold surged through him.
It was the beastlike survival instinct he had honed through countless brushes with death.
If I stay, I'll die!
Orochimaru's fingers abruptly curled against the ground, his hand seals grinding to a halt.
He could no longer spare a thought for his dignity as one of the legendary Sannin, or for Kabuto Yakushi lying in the muddy water.
His body twisted violently against the ground.
Whoosh!
He became a white blur, fleeing madly toward the bushes deep in the wilderness without looking back.
He moved so fast that he left a long trail of dust through the loose gravel.
"Trying to run?"
Standing at the entrance to the ruins, Sen watched the white figure fleeing for his life.
He snorted coldly.
He could not even be bothered to pull his hand all the way out of his pocket.
He merely
raised his right hand
and gave an utterly casual little wave in front of him.
"Wood Release: Cutting Sprigs!"
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh-!
Countless hard, pitch-black wooden spikes, each no larger than a toothpick and covered in tiny barbs,
like a torrential downpour,
erupted violently from his sleeve!
The wooden spikes flew so fast that they left faint sonic booms in their wake.
Orochimaru desperately twisted his body in the clearing like a slippery snake, trying to evade them with Soft Body Modification.
Shhk!
Shhk!
Three wooden spikes still struck with pinpoint accuracy, piercing his shoulder and back.
They missed my vital organs!
Orochimaru rejoiced inwardly. As long as he survived, his regenerative abilities could grow new flesh in mere seconds.