Shen Mo watched Orochimaru affix the armband to his withered arm, maintaining a look of detached curiosity, as if witnessing a predictable chemical reaction.
The moment the artifact was worn, a wrenching, painful sound escaped Orochimaru's lips: "Ah—"
A terrifying, profound coldness instantly radiated from the armband, spreading across the surrounding skin like cracks propagating across ice. The temperature plummeted. It wasn't just heat being absorbed; a subtle, chilling sound could be heard emanating from Orochimaru's internal organs as the demonic power began its transformation.
The armband cinched tightly, making the underlying muscles and bones tremble. Then, with horrifying speed, flesh and blood seemed to rush towards the crimson artifact, as if being greedily drained from the rest of his body.
"Lord Orochimaru!"
Kabuto Yakushi cried out, his eyes wide with trembling fear. He could feel the surging, profoundly evil aura engulfing his master.
Orochimaru's skin and face visibly withered, transforming into the pale, ashen hue of a desiccated corpse. But the voice that had cried out in pain now dissolved into a whispering sigh of pure pleasure. His eyes, though sunken, became intensely piercing, filled with a strange, maniacal excitement that quickened Kabuto's heart.
Power!
He felt an absolute, infinite strength flooding his very core.
He instinctively lashed out, pushing Kabuto aside. Though the contact appeared slight, Kabuto was flung away as if struck by a heavy sledgehammer, crashing violently into a thick tree and spitting up a mouthful of blood.
"How is this possible?"
Kabuto's eyes were dilated with horror. He knew Orochimaru was teetering on the edge of death; yet, in this ghoul-like, rotting state, he possessed this monstrous power!
Shen Mo maintained his faint smile, watching Orochimaru straighten up, his soul burning with manic ecstasy.
The Mordigian's Armband was a truly wicked device. It initiated a dark pact, demanding the exchange of the wearer's life force—flesh and vitality—for immense, instantaneous evil power. Orochimaru had instantly completed the transformation into a Ghoul-like creature.
After a sustained period, Orochimaru's strange, guttural noises ceased.
He gazed at his hands—white, skeletal, and withered—a profound astonishment in his eyes.
He drove his fist into the adjacent tree with everything he had.
CRACK!
The tree, thick as two men side-by-side, split in two with a sound like a thunderclap. The explosive debris shot out like bomb fragments, tearing through the surrounding forest. The entire grove looked as though it had been decimated by a hundred concentrated explosions.
"Hssss—"
Kabuto swallowed a gasp of pure terror.
He looked down at his own shoulder. A finger-thick splinter of wood was buried deep, having passed through him and lodged in the tree trunk behind.
What terrifying force!
And yet, the horror deepened. Kabuto felt a pervasive, unnatural coldness. The fragments of wood and the surrounding foliage were rapidly covered in a strange, white frost. Vitality and heat were being voraciously consumed by an unseen, greedy presence.
"This is the power of the Evil God!"
Orochimaru contorted his body, savoring the terrifying surge of strength. It felt like boundless, absolute energy coursing through him.
Eternal Life!
He felt he had transcended death, achieving the immortality he had sought for so long.
He violently snapped his head toward Shen Mo, his lips curling into an incredibly cheerful, yet utterly distorted and sinister smile.
"Am I now suitably qualified to become a merchant?"
His voice was now chillingly strange—hollow, dark, and tinged with a frightening madness, like something echoing from a subterranean crypt.
Shen Mo scrutinized Orochimaru's soul in the darkness, noting its chaotic distortion.
Indeed, Orochimaru was drunk on power, arrogance pouring from him.
A calculated thought crossed Shen Mo's mind, but outwardly, his smile remained placid. "If this is the extent of your power, you are not qualified to be an assistant, let alone a merchant. You remain too weak."
"Is that so?" Orochimaru's smile widened, but the rage behind it was palpable. "When an Evil God's power makes the destruction of a world simple, is even that insufficient?"
"I repeat: you are not qualified," Shen Mo reiterated.
The simple, unadorned truth acted as a direct detonator on Orochimaru's fraying sanity.
"Then I shall see for myself!" he roared hoarsely. "What true power these so-called merchants possess!"
He launched himself forward, his withered hand clenched into a fist, trailing a vortex of bone-chilling aura. He materialized instantly before Shen Mo and drove the punch straight into the merchant's chest.
BOOM!
A terrifying shockwave, like a compressed gas explosion, erupted at the point of impact. Vast swathes of trees were uprooted and flung away.
Kabuto struggled desperately to keep his feet on the ground, feeling as though he were trapped in the eye of a devastating typhoon, the shockwaves tearing at his internal structure.
When the dust settled, Kabuto Yakushi blinked, his eyes wide.
The two figures remained.
Orochimaru, pale and corpse-like, stayed rigid in his punching posture, his tattered clothes ripped away by the shockwave.
But Shen Mo was utterly untouched.
He stood perfectly still; his hair was undisturbed, his black suit pristine. There was not a single crease, tear, or sign of damage where Orochimaru's demonic fist had struck.
The punch had been absorbed without resistance, like a sponge hitting solid bedrock.
Even Orochimaru's already withered arm suffered severe fracturing from the recoil.
"Wh-what..."
Kabuto swallowed hard. He had just witnessed a destructive force that could turn steel to paste. Yet, the man who called himself a merchant remained completely unscathed.
Is this truly a human being?
Even Orochimaru was paralyzed with shock. His pale, bloodshot eyes were wide, utterly disbelieving. The forbidden legacy he had absorbed spoke of the Evil God's power as a universal reality.
But now...
"Attacking a merchant is not permissible," Shen Mo said, his smile unchanged. He made no physical movement, yet a terrifying, invisible pressure began to slowly and inexorably crush Orochimaru.
"Aaaah—"
Orochimaru screamed, blood vessels bursting in his eyes. He strained with every ounce of his new power, but faced with the absolute force bearing down on him, he was like a single drop of water trying to fight the ocean—all struggle was immediately swept into the abyss, unable to cause even the slightest tremor.