Chapter Seventy-Four: The Collision of a Planet with Earth

"Dragon Vein?" Orochimaru was momentarily taken aback—the name sounded so familiar. He felt as though he had heard it before, but the memory was vague and he couldn't quite recall where or when.

Uchiha Madara gazed at the purple giant serpent formed of chakra. "What do you intend to do next?"

Orochimaru replied, "A ritual array."

Sheer quantities of chakra alone could not influence time. What he needed was to inscribe a new array, one that could push the power of the purple serpent’s chakra to its absolute peak.

Alone on the Chakra Cliff, Orochimaru had devoted years—seasons passing in succession—to his research. During that time, several rounds of accelerated time had come and gone, and the surrounding ecosystem had already returned to normal.

As the years slipped by, the Chakra Cliff itself was gradually filled in; the once yawning chasm covered with black soil, sprouting lush green grass, the earth extraordinarily fertile.

A group of people discovered the richness of the soil and gradually migrated to settle there. Eventually, the land’s fertility became so renowned that the nation to which it belonged relocated its capital to this very spot.

"Mahama-ha!" they declared.

The nation proclaimed this land a place of great prosperity, believing their dynasty would endure for a thousand generations.

Throughout these ages, Orochimaru and Uchiha Madara both vanished from public sight—one immersing himself in the study of ritual arrays within the Dragon Vein, the other observing the growth of the Uchiha clan and Black Zetsu’s schemes from the shadows.

The Shinobi Order continued its quiet expansion and consolidation, but in an age without the reincarnations of Indra and Asura, even their strongest warriors reached only the Kage level.

Thunder rumbled across the sky one day—a colossal meteor appeared, streaking across the heavens like a harbinger of doom. The people below fell into panic; should the meteor strike, it would bring devastation and untold death.

As the nations scrambled in confusion and the Shinobi Order found itself powerless, a long-haired, imposing man shot silently into the sky.

It was Uchiha Madara.

...

Beyond the earth, in the emptiness of space, two members of the Otsutsuki clan—one old, one young—gazed down at the blue planet.

The elder pointed toward the earth. "The Divine Tree is on this planet."

The younger Otsutsuki stood on tiptoe, peering down with a trace of disappointment. "Where? It doesn’t look special at all."

He had expected something extraordinary.

The elder shook his head. "You ought to show reverence to the Divine Tree. Come, let’s descend and see for ourselves up close."

Only in close proximity could one sense the true power of the Divine Tree.

With thunderous force, their massive planetoid vessel hurtled straight toward earth. The young Otsutsuki asked, "Father, aren’t we going to leave the planet parked outside?"

The elder smiled faintly. "Park outside?"

He ruffled the young one’s hair. "This world is inhabited by mortals. They’re bothersome. If we bring the planetoid down with us, it’ll shut them up."

The young Otsutsuki seemed to ponder the idea. "Are you saying we’ll use the planet to wipe them out?"

This would become one of his guiding principles for the future.

"Pu’er," said the elder. "Look ahead—there’s already a troublesome mortal coming our way."

Soaring through the sky came Uchiha Madara, who had grown incomparably powerful over the years, never having revealed his full strength. Flight was a mere parlor trick now. The elder Otsutsuki pointed at the airborne Madara.

"Pu’er, let me teach you your first lesson in dealing with mortals: kill, and show no mercy. They are pitifully weak, blind to their own situation, and as bothersome as gnats. Simply sweep them aside."

As he spoke, the elder’s Rinnegan in his brow blazed red, the six concentric circles of his eye radiating power.

...

On earth, as Uchiha Madara clashed with the elder Otsutsuki, the people below were as frantic as ants on a hot pan—helpless, resigned to their fate.

They had no idea that someone was already confronting the planetoid.

The Shinobi Order and the great nations convened an emergency summit, employing every method to maintain communication and ensure the participation of all.

It was an unprecedented operation; old enmities were set aside as all focused on the meteor.

They shared all available data, calculated the scope of the impending disaster, and finally reached a grim conclusion: the entire world would be affected.

In this calamity, not even Kage-level warriors had a guaranteed chance of survival.

Silence fell among the leaders—there was nothing to be done.

"Let’s all return home," they decided at last. "Spend what time remains with your loved ones."

The ruler of the Land of a Thousand, Matsushita Nichien, slumped into his throne, his face etched with despair and his posture aged by decades in an instant as he disconnected from the conference.

There was no hope. The world was doomed, and the Land of a Thousand would perish with it.

Matsushita Nichien thought back to his ancestor more than two hundred years ago—the very one who had moved the capital here and proclaimed, "By settling in this land, our nation shall endure a millennium."

Yet only two centuries had passed, and now the world faced annihilation. Ancestor, you lied!

It was a bitter pill to swallow; his beloved nation would end with his generation.

He sighed. "Go and summon the Queen and the consorts," he instructed his attendants, "then everyone return to your families."

He had resigned himself to fate. All the world’s nations, including the Shinobi Order, had come together and found no solution. If even they could do nothing, then nothing could be done. There was no choice but to wait for death.

But suddenly, a cracking noise resounded—the ground split open.

Matsushita Nichien was startled. The floor was paved with special marble, maintained for years, virtually impervious to blade or sword—how could it crack?

"Could the meteor already be affecting the ground?"

The cracks spread swiftly, deep fissures forming, and purple light shone from the depths below.

"What is this? Could it be a legendary treasure?"

Ever since the capital had been moved here two centuries ago, many had sought the secret of the fertile land. Yet no matter how deep they dug, there was a limit; even the strongest shinobi could not go further.

"Is this some treasure sensing the world’s crisis and revealing itself?"

Matsushita Nichien could only sigh—what use was a treasure now? It was far too late. Who could stop such a colossal meteor?

Besides, they were all ordinary people, devoid of special powers. Even if this truly was a peerless treasure, there was no one capable of wielding it.

He recalled their recent secret policy regarding the Shinobi Order—they had planned to disperse those with special powers among the nations, forming their own shinobi villages and militarizing that strength.

Had they acted sooner, might there have been a sliver of hope?

As these thoughts ran wild in his mind, the cracking intensified—and not just in his palace. Across the entire capital, and even beyond, fissures opened, stretching for miles, purple light bursting forth.

With a thunderous crash, the ground collapsed, earth and stone tumbling away, and a purple giant serpent—hundreds of miles long—burst from the depths and soared into the sky.

Upon the serpent’s head stood a man.

It was Orochimaru.