"Beautiful! That combo is flawless!"
"Wind-Fire Combo! Overpowered! Is it beyond C-rank already?"
"All blind spots sealed! There's even a killer move hidden behind! Minato-kun… is too strong!"
On the training ground, gasps erupted like waves.
All the students watched with flushed faces, completely ignited by Namikaze Minato's precise tactics and fierce offensive.
On the high platform, Hiruzen finally let a faint smile curl on his lips, the smoke from his pipe curling upwards.
A cold glint flashed in his eyes, carrying a trace of imperceptible appreciation. Good kid. Perfect timing, chakra control is flowing smoothly. Jiraiya finally did something right. This talent, this calmness… he's a good prospect.
On the field, the situation shifted in an instant.
The scorching white fireball, capable of devouring everything, and the violent wind blade tearing through the air roared like demons, threatening to shred the lone red-haired figure in the center of the arena, Ryo, into ashes. Not even dust left behind.
A hair's breadth away. Life hanging by a thread.
Ryo moved.
Facing an overwhelming combination that would trouble even a Jōnin, he merely raised his right hand.
That's right.
The very hand that hadn't received candy from Kushina, the one always kept in his pocket, stayed in his pocket.
He simply used his free left hand, raising it casually.
Fingers spread, palm forward.
No dazzling hand seals.
No complex jutsu.
He didn't even bother changing his expression.
Boom!
An earth-shattering roar.
The ground beneath his feet trembled violently.
The twin dragons of wind and fire slammed into the air in front of Ryo's palm.
Where was the expected gruesome scene of flesh flying, bones snapping, blood spraying?
Nowhere.
The furious energy, enough to seriously wound a Jōnin, slammed into an invisible, mountain-heavy barrier.
Shockwaves. Explosions. Scorching heat that could melt steel. Razor wind blades that could cut a man into ribbons. All of it was nailed in place by an absolute, immovable force in front of that palm. Not an inch advanced.
All the students' eyes nearly popped out.
Ryo's hand was steady as an ancient boulder. Space itself twisted and compressed around his open palm.
The roaring flames and shrieking wind blades fought desperately, yet couldn't even stir a ripple against the domain formed by monstrous chakra and his terrifying body.
Why? Because he was strong enough.
He hadn't been pummeled by Tsunade-hime's fists for nothing these past two years.
That experience, being beaten half to death, had long since taught him how to use brute strength violently.
On top of that was the physique inherited from Shanks, and the abyss-like sea of chakra inside him.
Quantity had long since become quality. It had sublimated.
What ninjutsu? What tactics?
In the face of absolute power, all of it was paper.
"Empty… empty-handed… he blocked it?!"
"Shit! That's a B-rank combination ninjutsu! He pressed it down with one hand?!"
The stands erupted. This time it wasn't admiration, but fear. Gasps of cold air echoed one after another. Many girls' faces turned pale.
As the explosion smoke and blinding flames formed a blazing curtain, the true killing move came.
A figure as fast as golden lightning tore through the smoke like a phantom.
From Ryo's blind spot, the rear right corner, where the clone had disappeared before, it struck with a piercing attack.
Only now did they realize—this was the real body. Minato's real body.
That devastating wind and fire assault just now?
A feint. All of it was a feint, just to create this fatal strike.
The moment the enemy "hard-counters" a frontal ultimate move, drained of strength, unable to respond with new power… that was the instant to kill.
Minato's body turned into a golden streak.
Speed, surpassing his limits.
The kunai in his hand was no longer ordinary steel.
A violent, eerie blue lightning glow wrapped tightly around the blade, crackling, hissing with a shriek that stabbed into the heart.
Lightning Release: Ground Flash!
Not a jutsu, but pure destructive lightning compressed and bound to the kunai, forged into one killing strike.
An earth-shattering stab.
This was his trump card, his final defiance.
Two years of grueling training.
Two years of humiliation.
Kushina's sparkling eyes whenever she looked at Ryo.
All of it turned into a silent roar in Minato's chest, driving this strike. Ryo, be defeated! I will shatter the wall that is you!
The kunai tip, carrying lightning that could pierce everything, condensed all of Minato's spirit and rage, all his hope.
The timing and angle were flawless. Ruthless. Directly aimed at the unguarded back of Ryo's heart.
In Minato's eyes, the light of victory burst brilliantly. I won! This time…
But.
Just as the lightning-wrapped kunai tip brushed the fibers of Ryo's shirt, the warmth of his body close beneath—
Ryo's body, steady as a mountain, didn't shift an inch.
Only the bronzed muscle of his back, the suffocatingly thick latissimus dorsi, rippled once.
The next second.
Clang! Crackle-crackle!
There was no sound of flesh pierced.
Only a hideous screech that set teeth on edge, like a rusty saw grinding on indestructible alloy.
The kunai tip, forged from Minato's will, wrapped in lightning, bent instantly. The edge curled. The blade ruined.
And then—
The compressed Lightning Release chakra, lethal enough to kill a Jōnin in a flash?
Pop.
Like a bubble crushed by an invisible hand, it vanished.
The eerie blue sparks scattered instantly, gone without a trace.
Boom.
The light of determination and two years of burning will in Minato's eyes shattered like fragile glass.
In its place, overwhelming astonishment, helpless confusion, and a freezing despair, like falling endlessly into an abyss.
How… is… that… possible?!
Minato's mind was blank, only those words echoing in the void.
(To be continued.)