"Today marks the moment you face your true first test in life. You may have been called a genius all this time, but in the end, genius is just genius. The only one truly worthy… is the one who fights and wins."
That was my father. Tall, stoic, and dramatic as always. The kind of man who would absolutely deliver a life lesson even while bleeding out in battle, just because he thought the moment needed it.
I gave him a serious nod. Real serious. Like I was ready to leap into history or something. But I was rolling my eyes in my head a little.
Seriously, how can someone say so many words without running out of breath? But I held back the comment, because hey, gotta give him face. He's the patriarch. The big boss of the Uchiha clan.
And he wasn't the only one here.
Around us stood a bunch of elder-looking elders, their faces carved out of stone (probably because none of them have smiled since the Warring States Era). Their subordinates flanked them like statues, and next to my father, my mother stood—unlike at home—now like a graceful shadow: calm, unreadable, elegant. She was basically the opposite of my current inner monologue.
I knew exactly what today was: a test. A big fat "can you punch someone hard enough to earn the clan's respect" test.
And honestly, my Chinese webnovel instincts were tingling. You know, the kind where the overpowered young master gets tested in front of the whole clan, then smashes expectations like a watermelon in a summer festival?
Yeah. That kind of vibe.
Honestly, it reminded me of that moment in Naruto Shippuden—Hinata being forced to fight Neji in front of the Hyuga elders like some medieval talent show. Well, except this time it's me, and the clan is the Uchiha, and nobody here is expecting me to hold back.
Ever since Uchiha Madara went off to be dramatic somewhere else (and took his world-ending tendencies with him), the position of clan head went vacant.
He had no siblings, no children, no "oh hey this is my cousin twice removed who might qualify," nothing. So the Uchiha, being the Uchiha, naturally did what we do best.
They fought over it.
No democracy, no votes. Just fists, fireballs, and whoever was left standing. My dad came out on top. He won the blood-soaked game of capture-the-title.
But even after winning, his hold on the position is... let's say "firm but shakable." Some of the other branch families and old relics still look at him like they're waiting for a crack.
So if I, the child of the patriarch, were to be officially recognized as the future clan head, it'd be like slapping a "Don't Even Try" sticker on his position.
But the Uchiha don't hand out promotions like candy. There's no paperwork. No interviews. Just... battle.
And oh boy—was I excited.
I was practically vibrating. Who knew how long I've waited to legally punch someone in the face without consequences? YEARS.
Even in my past life, I used to dream about stuff like this. I prayed for VR games with real pain mechanics. SAO, but without the dying part. Now here I am—with chakra, ninjutsu, and actual combat.
So yeah, my adrenaline is probably sky-high and my excitement is peaking.
I walked into the center of the training ground. No fancy ring, no ropes—just a flat space cleared for combat.
I knew that for Jonin or even Chunin fights, the battlefield usually expands into forests, mountains, or entire villages if things get spicy. But well, I'm just a child and my first opponent was, let's say... tutorial level.
He was an Uchiha too—one year older than me, still a student at the Ninja Academy.
A warm-up.
Now, because of the wartime era, the Academy curriculum had shifted hard. Stuff like the Three Basic Techniques—Bunshin, Henge, and Kawarimi—were being taught much earlier. But I'd only been in the Academy for one month. Barely long enough to memorize the school rules for some.
He, on the other hand, was a second-year and already learning techniques I shouldn't have officially touched yet.
Theoretically, he had the advantage.
Theoretically.
Because I'm the daughter of the patriarch—which means access to nearly every clan jutsu that isn't labeled "too dangerous" by my overly cautious dad.
Basically, if it doesn't explode the village and doesn't harm me, I've probably been able to practice it somewhere.
My opponent stood in position, eyes sharp, posture rigid. No cocky sneer. No trash talk. Honestly, I was disappointed. Where was the "you brat, I'll teach you a lesson" cliché and me saying "courting death" to spice things?
Nope. He didn't even ask if I was ready. Just charged in like a missile, no hesitation, no hand signs, no signal. Classic hot-blooded rookie move.
I couldn't hold back the grin stretching across my face.
Of course, I didn't just stand there and let his punch connect. I like fighting, not getting punched. Big difference.
I dodged easily—tilted my head just a little—and felt the breeze of his fist miss me by a mile.
Poor guy. He was clearly trying to rely on physical dominance, hoping that his size and strength could overpower me before I could whip out any jutsu. After all, the reputation of me mastering many jutsu is still there.
What he didn't know though was that his opponent is the wrong girl, because when it comes to martial arts, I'm confident that I should be in a whole different league.
I'm not just some random reincarnator with my modern memory, I'm also the princess of the Fire Nation, bending prodigy.
And bending is just elemental martial arts on steroids. There are all kinds of martial arts used in the Avatar World, ranging from Tai Chi to Shaolin Kung Fu, especially going to The Legend of Korra where it's even more diversified.
I'm a martial arts monster.
So when he missed, I didn't even think. My body just moved.
My knee flew up, fast and brutal, and—bam—right into his stomach.
He let out an audible "Ugh!" as the air escaped his lungs like a popped balloon.
Luckily for him (and for my outfit), I stepped back just in time before he could collapse and, heaven forbid, throw up on me. That would've been a tragedy. For both of us.
I shook my head, disappointed. This wasn't the kind of challenge I wanted.
Around us, the elders nodded calmly, as if the outcome had already been decided before it even started. My father didn't even blink. Clearly, this guy was just a formality. The appetizer before the real meal.
Then, a new figure stepped forward.
Taller. Older. More serious.
"The next challenger is Genin Futake. Nine years old. Graduated the Academy at seven. Participated in the war," my father announced.
Now this was different.
This kid wasn't playing ninja. He was a ninja. The kind who's seen blood. Maybe even spilled some.
Someone who has killed a person and someone who is still in the academy are completely two different kinds of people, let alone someone who has participated in the war.
You could feel it in the way he stood. The silence in his eyes. That heavy, seasoned presence that only real combat could shape.
I don't know though if him graduating at the age of seven was because he was a genius or simply because of the war, but then, I don't care because it will not change anything.
Of course, this didn't mean I took things lightly, because he is definitely worth it. Chakra is something extraordinary, and the older you are, the more your body can bear it—at least before your body functions start declining.
And it has been just a little bit over a year since I unlocked my chakra, and my body hasn't yet been completely strengthened by it, while it must have been at least five years since he did so, which gives him more advantage.
This guy didn't rush me like the last one.
Also, there wasn't a dramatic flying tackle, no war cry. Instead, he calmly drew a kunai and slipped into a fighting stance.
I wasn't using the same casual vibe like earlier either.
No distractions, no casual thoughts—just pure focus. I even noticed the elders behind me quietly activating their Sharingan, probably to get a clearer view of our little duel—or more importantly, to step in if things got dicey.
Typical old-timers. Always ready to jump in when the kids get too rowdy.
Now, a fighting stance might not seem like a big deal to some, but trust me—it's everything. The right stance sets the momentum.
Just standing in a strong stance can make your opponent hesitate, tense up, second-guess their own moves. And if your stance truly fits your fighting style, you've already got the edge.
The tricky part is you can't just learn that kind of stance from a scroll or a training dummy.
As you grow older, your body changes, your techniques evolve, and so does your stance. Especially for ninja, whose styles shift depending on the ninjutsu they learn. It's constantly adapting.
His stance? Eh… more of a pseudo-stance, if I'm being honest. Like he watched a bunch of different fighters and mashed everything together. Not bad, not good—just confused.
But I wasn't much better, to be fair. Technically, I'm still evolving too. New ninjutsu means new adjustments.
Still, when I strip everything down and don't rely on jutsu, I've got a personal style burned into my memory. One I've lived with my whole life.
Northern Shaolin Kung Fu, if you ask modern Earth. Firebending stance, if you ask the Fire Nation.
And judging by the surprise that flashed across his face, he definitely wasn't expecting that. Classic mistake. Surprise equals opening.
Before he could blink twice, I lunged. My target wasn't a flashy knockout, because that would be too much underestimating him. I was aiming to disarm him.
Hand-to-hand combat is my thing.
I've always preferred fists over flying weapons. Sure, in the ninja world, everyone's tossing kunai, shuriken, and exploding tags like candy at a festival.
But I've always found comfort in the simplicity of fists. But unless you're Naruto or Hashirama, who treat weapons like background props, you learn to live with steel.
Still, this guy was indeed far better than I expected. His reaction was sharp—he blocked with his free hand and countered with the kunai in one smooth motion. I had to back off quickly.
That little exchange told me a lot. He's been on the battlefield and indeed, his physical ability is not bad at all.
This time, I stayed put. Let him come to me.
He's older than me—ugh, yeah, in a straight-up match, that matters. Letting him take the initiative would make him drop his guard.
And honestly, it was a bit of psychological warfare too. Uchiha are proud creatures. I knew that better than anyone.
I showed him confidence from the start. Attacked first. Fought clean. That alone was enough to poke at his pride and make him think he had to "put me in my place." Predictable.
And sure enough, he charged.
We clashed again. Fists flying, feet stomping, dodges, feints, blocks—it was beautiful. Exactly the kind of battle I had been itching for since reincarnating in this world.
We were deep in it. Thirty seconds passed—pure physical exchange. That might not sound like much, but for trained fighters, it's forever.
Then I saw my chance. I slipped in, forced him to step back, and landed a clean kick that sent him crashing into a tree.
I didn't follow up. No need. Warm-up was done.
He got back up quickly, and instead of looking embarrassed or mad, he… smiled.
"As expected of Azula-san," he said, eyes gleaming. "Not even a year since entering the Academy and you've already come this far. Now I'm sure—you're someone worthy to lead me."
Who even was this guy?
But hey, that's the Uchiha way. Recognition doesn't come with titles or age—it comes from proving yourself. And today, I just earned his.
He took a long breath. "Even though I'm older than you, you beat me in physical combat. Holding back would just insult you now… so I'll go all out."
Then his eyes changed. Red, spinning—and one tomoe.
My eyebrows twitched. Sharingan at only nine? No wonder Father praised him earlier.
He quickly formed hand signs. "Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu."
The iconic move of every second Uchiha brat.
I didn't have the Sharingan yet, but I knew this technique well. Pretty much anyone who's ever watched the anime could recite it in their sleep, and I know the hand signs.
At least he didn't scream it like he was performing a stage play. I smirked to myself and formed my own seal.
Lightning Release. I had to flex too.
It's been just a month since I started learning Lightning techniques. For most people, even grasping the basics this quickly would be considered insane. But I'm not aiming to be "a monster" with huge potential, but someone with status in the clan.
I want every Uchiha to look at me and believe—truly believe—that I'm the one who will lead them to greatness.
(END OF THE CHAPTER)
Here is today's chapter and starting from this, we can officially enter the power stones ranking, hope we can achieve good results.