The sun hung high above the Land of Fire's grand arena, its golden rays gleaming over the banners of countless clans fluttering in the wind. The quarterfinals had come to their final match, and anticipation ran through the stands like lightning.
Eight heirs had entered this stage. Three had already advanced. Now, the final two remained.
The announcer's voice boomed, echoing through the open field.
"The fourth and final match of the quarterfinals—Daigo Hagoromo versus Haruto Namikaze!"
The crowd erupted, cheering the names of both clans—legacies steeped in legend and strength.
From the Uchiha seating section, Keiji Uchiha leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, eyes sharp as his crimson Sharingan flickered faintly in interest. Beside him, his shiny Gengar hovered, translucent and grinning.
"Lightning and wind versus raw chakra might," Keiji murmured. "This one won't be decided easily."
Gengar's shadow swayed like smoke. "Hehehe… my bet's on the one with the crazy tools. That golden fan looks spooky strong, boss."
Keiji's lips quirked in amusement. "Maybe. But the Namikaze… they never lose in a straight sprint."
The Uchiha clan elders nearby sat in composed silence, but even they couldn't hide their curiosity. The Namikaze clan's prodigy, Haruto, had cut through every opponent like a blade of wind. And Daigo Hagoromo… heir of the Sage's bloodline and wielder of the Three Treasured Tools of the Six Paths—was a name already whispered in fear.
As the two heirs stepped onto the battlefield, the air shifted.
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Haruto Namikaze — The Lightning Gale
Haruto's golden hair shimmered in the light, his blue eyes focused yet burning with confidence. His armor, blue and white, caught the sun like lightning trapped in steel.
Wind gathered at his feet, whispering across the stone floor. His fingers twitched, gripping the hilt of a blade wreathed in wind chakra.
Fast. Faster than sound. Don't let him see you. Don't let him breathe.
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Daigo Hagoromo — The Sage's Might
Daigo's gray-toned skin and black horns gave him a presence that silenced the crowd. He stood tall, broad-shouldered, his golden armor shining with faint chakra lines. Behind him, three relics floated in a slow, deliberate orbit—each exuding power older than most clans in existence.
The Bashōsen.
The Shichiseiken.
The Benihisago.
He cracked his neck, his expression unreadable. "Try to make this interesting, Namikaze."
Haruto grinned. "You'll be lucky if you can even see me."
The referee raised his hand. "Begin!"
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The First Flash
Haruto vanished.
The crowd gasped. In less than a heartbeat, the air rippled—and then exploded with sound as Haruto appeared behind Daigo, blade swinging downward.
Daigo blocked with his forearm, sparks flying.
Clang!
The impact split the air, sending a wave of dust rolling across the arena floor.
Haruto landed, feet sliding, wind bursting around him. "Too slow, Sage-boy."
Daigo grunted, the golden plates of his armor vibrating with impact. He shifted his stance, his chakra flaring. "Not slow—steady."
Haruto moved again, a blur of motion, zigzagging around Daigo like a storm of light. Each swing of his blade left a streak of lightning in its wake.
Gengar whistled from the stands. "Fast little sparkplug, huh?"
Keiji's Sharingan followed the motion precisely. "He's using Swift Release—an advanced Namikaze technique that combines wind and lightning chakra for instantaneous acceleration. That's beyond normal speed-based taijutsu…"
But then, Daigo's expression didn't change. Instead, his hand brushed the Bashōsen.
"Wind Style—Divine Tempest."
He swung the fan once. A wall of roaring wind surged outward, colliding with Haruto's advance. The resulting explosion cracked stone and sent shockwaves through the barrier seals protecting the audience.
Haruto reappeared several meters back, smirking. "Oh, you can move."
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The Sage's Strength
Daigo's eyes glowed faintly with power.
"Let's test endurance then."
He charged. The ground shattered under his feet.
Haruto barely had time to react before Daigo's fist met his guard, the sheer force sending him skidding backward. Each of Daigo's strikes was powered by chakra-enhanced taijutsu—pure, brute might focused into precision.
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM!
Each impact echoed like thunderclaps.
From the stands, even Madara's eyes narrowed. "That boy's chakra control rivals a seasoned warrior. Interesting…"
Keiji nodded silently. He could feel it too—the Hagoromo heir's chakra pulsing with unnatural density, like the core of a mountain.
Haruto flipped backward, forming hand seals mid-air.
"Lightning Release: Raijin's Descent!"
Thunder rumbled. Lightning spears fell from above, aimed straight at Daigo.
Daigo didn't flinch. He raised the Bashōsen, swirling it once more.
"Five Elements Wind Repel."
The wind barrier dispersed the lightning into harmless sparks.
Then Daigo moved—closing the distance instantly, his Shichiseiken glowing gold.
The sword swung with devastating speed, cutting through the afterimage Haruto left behind.
Haruto appeared to his left, panting slightly. "He's reading my movements?"
"No," Daigo replied simply, "I'm feeling them."
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The Clash of Ideals
The battle raged. Speed met strength. Lightning clashed against the weight of mountains.
Haruto's strikes became faster, his chakra pulsing wildly as he pushed his limits. "If I can't outlast him, I'll outpace him!"
"Swift Release: Heavenly Flash!"
The entire arena turned into a blur of blue light. For a moment, Daigo vanished within a cyclone of speed and lightning.
The crowd gasped—some unable to even follow the movement.
But within that storm…
Daigo's eyes snapped open, calm and unwavering. His three tools began to resonate.
"Bashōsen… Shichiseiken… Benihisago…"
The relics aligned. Energy surged, golden and terrible.
Wind tore at the ground, lightning bent toward his presence, and the Benihisago pulsed with sealing light.
Keiji's eyes widened. "He's using all three—simultaneously?! That's suicide without control!"
But Daigo's voice was steady, almost reverent.
"Legacy of the Sage—Three Paths Unison."
The fan summoned a roaring vortex, redirecting Haruto's charge. The sword counterstruck in a golden arc, and the gourd unleashed binding seals shaped like ancient kanji.
Haruto's attack collided—and was swallowed whole.
The explosion that followed shook the arena to its foundation.
---
The Silence After Impact
When the dust cleared, the field was scorched and cracked. Haruto knelt on one knee, his armor fractured, blade buried in the earth.
Daigo stood before him, his three tools hovering behind his back, gleaming with residual chakra. His breathing was steady, but sweat glistened across his brow.
Haruto tried to rise but faltered, panting. "You… really do carry that Sage's blood, huh?"
Daigo sheathed his sword into the air, the weapons vanishing in a shimmer of chakra. "And you carry the will of motion—unstoppable, beautiful, but fleeting."
He extended a hand. "A storm that burns bright, then fades."
Haruto chuckled weakly, taking the hand and pulling himself up. "Guess I still have miles to run before I catch you."
The referee's voice rang out across the stunned arena.
"Winner—Daigo Hagoromo!"
The crowd erupted into cheers, chanting his name.
"DAIGO! DAIGO! DAIGO!"
---
After the Roar
As the Hagoromo heir raised a fist in triumph, Keiji exhaled softly, leaning back.
"That... was something else."
His Gengar floated beside him, eyes wide. "That kid's chakra nearly blew my shadow into another dimension!"
Keiji chuckled quietly. "Power, precision, control—Daigo just showed what a true heir of legacy means."
Madara's voice came from a few seats away, deep and thoughtful. "Indeed Keiji. But power without purpose is just destruction. The real test comes next."
Keiji glanced toward his father. " Father You mean the semifinals."
Madara's Sharingan gleamed faintly. "No. I mean when each heir realizes why they fight."
Keiji looked back at the field where Daigo stood, silent under the roar of thousands. Gengar floated closer, whispering, "Hehe… you're thinking again, boss. Plotting something?"
Keiji smiled faintly. "No. Just realizing that every battle here… is rewriting history."
As the crowd continued to cheer, the banners of the Hagoromo clan flapped high in the wind. Haruto Namikaze bowed deeply before leaving the arena, pride still intact despite his loss.
The tournament announcer declared loudly,
"All four semifinalists have been decided!"
The drums thundered once more, and the announcer's voice boomed across the stadium:
"Tomorrow—the semifinals and finals of the Land of Fire Youth Ninja Competition shall begin!"
---
The Calm Before the Storm
The crowd began to disperse, the air buzzing with excitement. Yet, amid the celebration, Keiji felt something shift.
A strange, almost haunting pulse brushed against his chakra senses—faint, deep beneath the arena floor.
He frowned, glancing toward Gengar. "Did you feel that?"
Gengar's red eyes narrowed, his grin fading. "Yeah… something's stirring under the ground.…something older."
Keiji looked up at the sky, where the sunset had begun to stain the clouds crimson.
"Tomorrow," he murmured, "is going to be more than just another battle."
The wind carried the sound of cheering far into the distance. But beneath it all, something dark—something ancient—whispered awake.
The stage for destiny was being set.
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End of the Chapter
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