The Three Great Sacred Lands of Sage Arts
Among the legendary sacred lands, Mount Myōboku lies hidden within an oasis in the forbidden zone west of the Land of Wind. The Shikkotsu Forest rests beneath the seas between the Land of Whirlpools and the Land of Water.
Compared to these two, Ryūchi Cave—buried deep underground in the Land of Stone—is far easier to find.
Every year, power-hungry lunatics come flooding in, seeking to pass its trials and earn the right to study Sage Arts. Most never return. They either fail the three deadly trials or perish under the corrosive force of natural energy, becoming nothing more than fodder for the cave.
According to Orochimaru's knowledge, only two ninjas have emerged alive from Ryūchi Cave in the past hundred years: himself, and the Third Kazekage of the Hidden Sand. Even so, both failed the final test and were deemed unfit to learn Sage Arts.
The abysmal pass rate has much to do with the brutal method the White Snake Sage employs to teach.
Unlike Mount Myōboku, which uses toad oil to help students sense natural energy and closely supervises the process to prevent them from turning into stone, the White Snake Sage's approach is far cruder: it directly injects natural energy through its fangs.
If it works, great. If not? You're tomorrow's snack.
Djinn was horrified by this method. In his eyes, the White Snake Sage had no intention of cultivating sages—just ordering takeout. The only reason Orochimaru and the Kazekage survived was due to sheer strength and luck.
From his experience in a past life, Djinn knew the proper way to harness natural energy: calm meditation, entering a selfless state, and attuning to the world. That was the true path to Sagehood.
However, for Orochimaru now, this wasn't an insurmountable obstacle. With his "Total Focus Breathing: Ever-Steady Form"—a breathing technique that achieves unity between body and nature—he was at least qualified to sense natural energy.
"Can you feel it?" Djinn asked eagerly as Orochimaru descended into the burrow. "Are you able to absorb natural energy and create Sage Chakra?"
In the world of demon slayers, even with weak natural energy, swordsmen could unleash terrifying power with the right breathing forms. But this was the ninja world. Ryūchi Cave brimmed with natural energy. If this didn't work, there was little hope left.
"No," Orochimaru replied—not aloud, but with his thoughts. In Ryūchi Cave, all spoken words would reach the ears of the White Snake Sage.
"I can sense it... but I can't control the energy."
He had crushed Djinn's expectations, but his expression remained calm.
"Still, it's not useless. Some of the natural energy I absorbed didn't just vanish—it's merging with my cells. I can feel my body slowly growing stronger."
Djinn nodded thoughtfully. "So it's reinforcing your body…"
It made sense. Breathing techniques were made for warriors, after all—meant to enhance the body, not grant magic. But with prolonged exposure to natural energy, perhaps even Orochimaru could eventually master Sage Arts through sheer physical adaptation.
How long that would take, however, was anyone's guess.
Hiss... hiss...
Rustling echoed from the shadows. As Orochimaru ventured deeper, countless snakes stirred in the darkness, slithering between the rocks. In the unseen depths of Ryūchi Cave, the game of hunter and hunted was already underway.
No snake dared to attack Orochimaru. Their primal instincts told them he was one of their own—yet vastly superior. To approach him carelessly would mean certain death.
His journey through the cave was smooth and undisturbed. Before long, he reached a vast stone fortress buried deep underground—Ryūchi Cave's trial grounds.
Orochimaru moved forward, intending to walk straight through without delay. But suddenly, he turned his head toward a shadow flickering on the right.
There was no movement. Nothing visible at all.
He chuckled softly.
"Your perception is still sharp. But you've changed a lot since I last saw you."
As his words echoed, a woman materialized from thin air—dressed in shrine maiden robes, a polished emerald pendant resting on her chest.
Orochimaru gave her a cordial nod and greeted her with a smile.
"Tagorihime. I've come to see the White Snake Sage. I assume I won't need to go through the trials?"
The three great trials of Ryūchi Cave were deadly for most—but to Orochimaru, they were mere games. He had no desire to waste time.
"Of course not," Tagorihime replied with a smirk. "But it would be rude not to greet an old friend, wouldn't it?"
She slowly descended to the ground, hovering gracefully. As she approached, her elegant features twisted. Her eyes darkened into slits, four fangs emerged from her mouth, and a red serpent's tongue flicked through the air.
In an instant, the once-beautiful maiden was replaced by a terrifying serpentine visage.
She narrowed her gaze, studying Orochimaru. "So this is what you're using to pursue Sage Arts this time? Not bad. A refined technique."
As Orochimaru entered Full Concentration Breathing: Ever-Steady Form, natural energy surged around him—impossible to hide from someone like Tagorihime, who had long since mastered the art of sage transformation.
Orochimaru, unfazed by the scrutiny, studied her in return. Her features, now almost entirely serpentine, stirred a thought in his mind:
Was she a human who had mastered Sage Mode?
Or a snake who had regained part of its original form?
He leaned toward the latter. Tagorihime had clearly lived for centuries, and though natural energy was still a blind spot in his knowledge, it might well extend one's lifespan. After all, the great beasts of the three sacred lands were known for their longevity.
She caught his look and grinned mischievously.
"Don't tell me you like me like this. Most ninjas would be screaming in fear by now."
Orochimaru remained silent, face composed, smile polite.
Tagorihime laughed again, her features softening. Her monstrous form faded, returning to the calm, beautiful woman from before.
"Forget it—boring man. I was only teasing. The White Snake Sage has been expecting you. I've been sent to bring you to her."
Unsurprised, Orochimaru followed without hesitation as she floated ahead. But behind her, all traces of her playfulness vanished, her smile replaced by a chilling stillness.
Orochimaru, of course, noticed.
The Djinn had already extended itself—its form unraveling into wispy tendrils of smoke, threading outward from Orochimaru's body like an unseen spider web.
From a bird's-eye view, it would look like an immense web stretching across the entirety of Ryūchi Cave.
Could the White Snake Sage truly see everything that happened in her domain?
Perhaps. But when the Djinn reached out with its senses, it could easily do the same.
As he walked, Orochimaru continued communicating with the Djinn silently.
With every step, they uncovered more truths about Ryūchi Cave—and slowly, one theory became more certain:
The White Snake Sage wasn't just a master of Sage Arts.
She was obsessed with transcendence.
Ryūchi Cave wasn't just a sacred land. It was her experimental field—her twisted garden for testing transformation itself.
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