With each of Uchiha Izuna's biting remarks, Jiraiya's already pale face grew even paler.
Jiraiya wanted to retort, but every word the other man spoke was true. At this moment, he couldn't help but feel that his life had been an utter failure.
He even began to question what all his years of effort had been for. After so much struggle, his companions had turned their backs on him, his students had distanced themselves, and even Sarutobi-sensei…
But suddenly, Izuna seemed to recall something unpleasant and looked at Jiraiya with disdain.
"Almost forgot—you're also a perverted writer of smut novels, a disgusting peeping tom.
When I read your file, I couldn't understand why someone with such immense strength and wealth would stoop to such filthy acts.
It seems education truly leaves a lasting mark. Both you and Hiruzen Sarutobi share these vulgar tendencies—what a perfectly matched master and disciple."
"What do you know! That wasn't peeping—it was research!" Jiraiya instinctively shot back.
But in response, Izuna mercilessly kicked him, sending him flying.
In Izuna's eyes, there was not only disdain but also deep revulsion.
"Stop twisting words, you worthless trash.
Peeping is peeping—don't try to justify it as 'research'! Do your female relatives enjoy being treated like that?
Oh wait, you're an orphan—no relatives at all, right? No wonder you've been so shameless about doing such disgusting things.
Garbage, waste of space. Kicking you dirties my foot."
{T/N: God DAYUM bro, you already beat him}
Though Izuna had held back some force in that kick, Jiraiya—now completely drained of chakra—was nothing more than a physically strong ordinary person. That single kick nearly took the last remnants of his life.
Blood trickled from Jiraiya's mouth as he lay there, his face ashen, staring blankly at the sky. His eyes were filled with confusion.
At this point, Jiraiya understood that he was as good as dead.
Life expectancy might be seventy years, but Jiraiya hadn't reached that age yet. He had long let go of many things, and insults about being an orphan or having no relatives failed to stir any emotions within him.
Reflecting on his life, Jiraiya realized he hadn't really accomplished anything significant—not unlike his school days when he was called a dead-last loser.
"So this is my life, huh? Truly a failure," Jiraiya muttered silently, laughing bitterly as he lay there.
If there was one lingering obsession, it was his unfulfilled wish to become the teacher of the savior.
Jiraiya murmured, "Great Sage, you said I was destined to be the teacher of the savior. But where is the savior now? I can't hold on anymore…"
Seeing Jiraiya's fading consciousness, Izuna didn't say anything further. Instead, he ignited a faint green qi in his hands and began healing Jiraiya's wounds.
The qi cultivation system far surpassed the bloodline limitations of the ninja system. As long as one trained diligently, mastering all types of qi was relatively easy. How far one could progress depended entirely on personal insight.
In the past, the Uchiha clan had envied the Senju clan's Wood Release healing abilities.
Reborn with the belief that there was no such thing as evil power, only evil people, Izuna had unhesitatingly acquired this ability for himself.
After all, Jiraiya was Madara's target, and Izuna wouldn't dare anger his beloved brother.
Perhaps due to Izuna's effective treatment, Jiraiya regained some clarity. He stared blankly at this Warring States-era elder who appeared far younger than him.
Unable to fight or argue, Jiraiya had completely given up. Thoughts of becoming the savior's teacher no longer troubled him.
But how could decades of obsession simply vanish?
Thinking of Izuna, whom the Second Hokage had once described as "wise to the point of being almost supernatural," Jiraiya couldn't help but ask:
"U-Uchiha Izuna-sama, can you tell me... cough, cough, why the prophecy made by the Great Sage who helped the Sage of Six Paths defeat the Rabbit Goddess a thousand years ago hasn't come true as it promised?"
A flicker of curiosity passed through Izuna's eyes. The deranged Jiraiya from earlier now seemed like a completely different person. Izuna quickly deduced that perhaps the earlier beating had triggered a moment of clarity—a glimpse of his life flashing before his eyes.
But they were both adults, and mistakes came with consequences.
There was no way out for Jiraiya now—death was his only path.
Seeing Izuna remain silent for a long time, Jiraiya sighed. They were enemies after all, and he knew there was no escape for him. But dying with such unresolved doubts left him deeply dissatisfied.
Suddenly, Izuna spoke calmly:
"Fool.
Fate isn't set in stone. The great Vast Ocean God granted me access to the divine library, where I read these words:
Fate—destiny is predetermined, but fortune can be changed through action. If a person does nothing versus doing everything, their fate will likely diverge into two vastly different paths. Whether those paths are good or bad, no one can say for sure until they've walked them.
This is the essence of fate. Nothing is fixed; everything depends on human effort.
Perhaps that old toad once prophesied correctly, but a toad is still a toad. Why would you blindly believe its words?
Even the most talented individuals experience failure throughout their lives—let alone an old toad."
After hearing Izuna's explanation, Jiraiya fell silent for a long time. Finally, he burst into uncontrollable laughter.
Eventually, tears streamed down his face from laughing so hard—he couldn't even remember the last time he had cried.
"So that's fate, huh…
Cough, cough, cough—"
Despite Izuna's healing, Jiraiya's injuries hadn't fully healed, and he couldn't suppress the violent coughs that wracked his body.
At this moment, Jiraiya recalled the truth. Stripping away the title of Sannin and the assistance Mount Myōboku had given him, he was nothing more than a dead-last genin.
If even geniuses could make mistakes, how much more so for someone like him, a dead-last loser? He realized now just how delusional he had been.
"Thank you," Jiraiya said with newfound detachment, giving Izuna a sincere smile before slowly rising to his feet.
Thanks to Izuna's earlier treatment, it was clear to him that this man was now at his limit. Even standing up wouldn't allow him to pose any threat.
Through Madara's relentless efforts, the once-hidden Mount Myōboku in the alternate dimension had begun to materialize as a faint shadow in the sky.
"Mount Myōboku…" Jiraiya sighed wistfully.
If he hadn't foolishly summoned here as a youth, perhaps his life would have turned out differently. After all, he had been the Third Hokage's disciple.
He had talent—it just hadn't been nurtured at the time.
But what use was it to realize that now? Life was like a speeding train with no way to turn back.
Having let go of his obsessions, Jiraiya felt an unprecedented sense of relief. He smiled gently at Izuna, who had been locked in mortal combat with him moments ago, bowed respectfully, and thanked him again.
"Thank you so much. If not for your patient explanation, I would have died in confusion."
Izuna frowned. This gratitude from Jiraiya was far from the pleading he had expected.
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