The battlefield fell silent.
At its heart, there was only deathly stillness.
Even the air seemed to freeze, as though some indescribable force had pressed pause on time itself.
The wreckage of the collapsed wooden avatar lay scattered across the ground, wood chips and dust drifting slowly in the breeze.
The Perfect Susanoo that had once towered proudly over the battlefield had shattered completely, its countless fragments flying in every direction like a crushed divine statue, stripped of all majesty.
Yemu stood quietly at the center of the battlefield, the Silver Dragon Battle Blade in his hand.
Residual chakra rippled through the air around the blade with a faint hum, as though space itself were trembling.
That power was too terrifying, too overwhelming. Even cheers of victory seemed unnecessary-
Because no one could have imagined that the battle would end with such a staggering disparity.
Orochimaru stood on a distant rise, his gaze fixed on Yemu's figure, a rare trace of fear appearing in his eyes.
His voice was low and trembling, as though he were desperately suppressing an indescribable terror. "What... what the hell is going on?!"
He muttered to himself, his brow furrowed, still seeming to struggle to comprehend what he had witnessed. "Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha joining forces... that's not something you get to see in just any era. Yet their attacks didn't even warrant a second strike from Yemu?"
Orochimaru drew a deep breath, but his throat felt too dry to make a sound.
He had never imagined that he would one day witness a battle like this.
Those two legendary shinobi, beings hailed as Gods of Shinobi, had not even had a chance to make Yemu take them seriously?
"This guy... isn't even in the realm of shinobi anymore."
A slender figure stood quietly