Ding! Clang! Bang! Snap—
The moment the two closed in, the clash of kunai and fists exploded between them.
But the reality after the first exchange was nothing like what Uchiha Eikō had imagined—far from it.
After just a dozen rounds, he found himself completely overwhelmed, reduced to barely blocking Yagami's relentless strikes.
"Impossible!!"
Cold sweat streamed down Eikō's face.
He had been certain the Sharingan's insight would let him dominate within seconds.
Yet the opposite had happened.
He was being cornered, pushed into a state where he could hardly move at all.
He didn't know that the Sharingan—his proud advantage—was nothing but child's play before Yagami's bullet time.
"No… I need distance!"
Eikō's arrogance had long crumbled.
He had wanted to use genjutsu several times to turn the tide, but Yagami never once met his gaze, keeping his focus firmly below Eikō's neck. He didn't give a single opening.
Boom!
Seeing an opportunity, Eikō struck Yagami's chest with a desperate palm.
Using the recoil, he leaped back, trying to create space.
Yagami immediately lunged forward—this was a Jōnin promotion assessment, not a sparring match. He had no intention of holding back.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!"
Despite the stabbing pain in his chest, Eikō's hands blurred into seals. He inhaled sharply, then—
BOOM!
A fireball erupted toward Yagami.
But because of the injury, the technique weakened.
The blazing sphere should've been three or four meters wide—yet it was barely one.
It forced Yagami to stop—but he didn't dodge.
Instead, he gripped the sword at his hip.
Cang——!
A clean ring echoed as the blade left its sheath.
The Great Fireball split in two before it even reached him.
Flames roared past on both sides, not a spark touching him.
"He's good," Minato murmured in awe.
One hand on his sword, Yagami stood calmly amid the fading flames. The pressure radiating from him made even Minato tense.
"Sarutobi…" Danzo said stiffly, eyes locked on Yagami.
"I see it," Hiruzen replied, equal shock in his voice.
The moment Yagami abandoned pursuit and drew his blade, everything about him changed.
His presence sharpened—dangerous, impossible to ignore.
He stood like a drawn sword.
A true swordsman's aura.
It was reminiscent of Konoha's White Fang… but purer, sharper—more refined.
While the three elders processed what they were seeing, the battle shifted again.
Although the Great Fireball failed to injure Yagami, it gave Eikō a moment to breathe.
He exhaled shakily, face twisting.
To think a civilian ninja forced him into such a pathetic state…
Humiliated and furious, he flicked a shuriken forward and immediately performed hand seals.
"Shuriken Shadow Clone Technique!!"
His voice cracked with anger.
The single shuriken split into two—then four—then dozens.
Within seconds, hundreds of spinning blades filled the air.
They rained down toward Yagami like a metal storm.
"Shoo—hoo—hoo—!"
Instead of dodging or defending—
Yagami charged straight through it.
"Yagami!!" Minato shouted in alarm.
Both Hiruzen and Danzo stared, stunned.
Dodging or defending was the correct choice.
What Yagami was doing made no sense.
Hum!!!
Yagami pushed bullet time to its absolute limit.
Time itself slowed to a crawl.
One, two, three, four… twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine—
He counted every shuriken that posed a threat.
The instant he released bullet time—
His sword moved.
[Atomic Cut!]
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
A blur of intersecting steel flashed through the air.
Every dangerous shuriken was knocked away almost simultaneously.
Atomic Cut—a technique allowing over a hundred blade swings in a second.
The shuriken storm was dismantled instantly.
Yagami accelerated, closing in on the stunned Eikō.
"Flying Sword Slash!"
Eikō's eyes widened. He tried to form a defense seal—
But his hands were too slow.
A crescent of sword light tore across the field.
Eikō threw himself sideways, barely rolling out of the way.
Choke!
The slash missed him—
And instead cut straight through a wooden training post behind him, splitting it cleanly in half.
Breathing hard, Eikō scrambled to form a jutsu—
But before he could rise to a knee—
A cold blade rested gently on his shoulder.
He froze instantly, every hair on his body standing on end.
He didn't need the Sharingan to understand…
One wrong move, and the next place that sword touched would be his neck.
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