As the introductions concluded, Orochimaru cast a subtle, tense glance toward Mifune. Unlike "Namikaze," which sounded like a surname picked at random to describe wind and waves, "Sakamoto" was an ancient name—one that predated the very concept of a shinobi.
It was one thing for a Senju to adopt a random surname after leaving the clan, but there was no logical reason for one to choose a name with such historical baggage. And yet... Mifune remained perfectly composed.
"Begin."
Mifune waved his hand, his eyes sharpening with focus. Unlike the teenager Okisuke, Mifune could easily distinguish the differences between Tatsuma and Minato. Tatsuma... felt remarkably like the Senju clan he remembered.
It wasn't just the resemblance or the aura. The key was his chakra volume and—more importantly—his appetite at last night's banquet. That small body had consumed nearly as much food as Tsunade, the woman of monstrous strength.
Mifune looked forward to whatever surprises Tatsuma might bring. As for the name... he had done some digging yesterday. Though the Land of Iron was somewhat isolated, it wasn't impossible to scout for news from the shinobi world.
This boy was indeed "Sakamoto Tatsuma," not "Ryoma" as he'd been introduced. But then, didn't ninjas cycle through a new name and identity for every mission?
A ninja's name was unreliable—often less reliable than their monikers. And this boy had earned quite a few for someone his age.
"The Little Tobirama!" "The Ryoma of the Leaf!" "The Jade-Cracker!" Mifune didn't quite grasp the meaning of that last one, but the first two carried immense weight. To him, there were plenty of logical reasons why Tatsuma might go by "Sakamoto." Perhaps his mother was the Senju, or perhaps his father had married into a different family and the child took that name.
Names and words were easy to fake, but the performance of the body was undeniable. This "Ryoma"... was absolutely a Senju! Mifune had decided; even if Tobirama himself rose from the grave to deny it, Mifune wouldn't believe him.
On the platform, the moment Mifune gave the signal, both combatants moved. Okisuke drew his blade in a horizontal guard before his neck, ready to parry any shuriken Tatsuma might launch at his head, throat, or chest.
But Tatsuma? He... drew his sword. A straight, lunging thrust aimed directly at Okisuke's abdomen.
Shlik—!
Okisuke was stunned. Tatsuma was a ninja! Why was he leading with a sword? His reaction was a fraction of a second too slow. He executed a desperate backward leap, but Tatsuma's blade still found the gap between the lamellar breastplate and the faulds.
The sharp edge sliced through Okisuke's undergarments. His pre-pubescent frame and lack of adult height were the only things that saved him from a devastating injury to his "jade bag."
Still, a line of blood bloomed across his lower abdomen. Okisuke scrambled backward, desperately opening the distance. The audience let out a collective, audible gasp that echoed through the silent dojo.
Even Mifune was surprised. He hadn't expected Tatsuma to lead with a blade, though he quickly found a "logical" explanation: Tobirama Senju had been a master swordsman who, legend says, once mortally wounded Uchiha Madara's younger brother with a single strike.
Tatsuma allowed a faint, nearly imperceptible smile to touch his lips. Back on the sidelines, Minato Namikaze couldn't hide his excitement and a touch of smugness.
Just moments ago, when they were "whispering," Minato had told him:
"I fought using my best style—the way of the ninja. I didn't use my sword once; it actually got in my way several times. Okisuke definitely noticed that. Given his cautious nature, he'll be braced for ninja projectiles right at the start. Use that. Give him the one thing he isn't expecting."
The gambit was a success. Tatsuma immediately tossed the long sword aside. He didn't actually know how to use it; he hadn't even mastered the more manageable short blade yet.
The long sword clattered to the floor, but Tatsuma had already closed the gap. Okisuke clutched his abdomen with his left hand, but the rigid armor made it impossible to apply direct pressure. He didn't dare let go.
With his right hand, Okisuke swung his blade down. Tatsuma blocked it with a kunai. Caught off guard and unable to exert full power due to his injury, Okisuke was actually pushed back by the force of Tatsuma's parry.
Mifune's eyes lit up as he witnessed the sudden burst of power from Tatsuma's left hand. That strength... if he isn't a Senju, who is?
He wasn't the only one. Tsunade sat bolt upright, her eyes wide. Lately, Tatsuma's chakra and explosive power had increased in tandem, but he'd never really unleashed it because Minato couldn't handle that kind of raw impact.
Seeing that display of Monstrous Strength, Tsunade felt a surge of pride in her student. She had worried she had nothing left to teach him, but seeing this... it seemed there were still a few things she could pass on.
With his guard broken, Okisuke's center was wide open. Tatsuma didn't waste the opening. He kicked off the ground with such force he left a literal crater in the stone platform, closing in instantly.
He seized Okisuke's right wrist with one hand and his upper arm with the other, pivoting his body to prepare for a shoulder throw. Okisuke frantically released his left hand, bracing it against his own chest to cushion the impact.
BOOM!
The collision of their bodies echoed through the cavernous dojo. Okisuke's face went pale. He thanked his lucky stars he'd used his hand as a buffer; if Tatsuma's shoulder had hit his chest directly, it would have shattered his ribs.
Seeing Okisuke neutralize the throw, Tatsuma immediately shifted his grip, attempting to wrench the long sword from the samurai's hand. But Okisuke had finally recovered from the initial shock.
Before Tatsuma could apply leverage, Okisuke tossed the blade upward and caught it in a reverse grip. If Tatsuma tried to pull now, the rising edge would slice his forearms open.
Tatsuma cursed inwardly and let go. Okisuke performed an ungraceful roll to get as far away as possible.
Drip... drip...
Okisuke stood, holding his blade with both hands, watching Tatsuma with lethal wariness. The wound on his abdomen had soaked his groin in dark crimson, blood dripping from the edge of his armor onto the floor.
"Even if he didn't hit the target, it sure looks like he did," Jiraiya joked under his breath. "He's really living up to his reputation."
Jiraiya knew that Tatsuma had already gained an incredible advantage, but finishing Okisuke off wouldn't be easy. That first trick wouldn't work twice.
However, the advantage was firmly with Tatsuma. All he had to do was stall. As the blood loss continued, Okisuke would only grow weaker.
Okisuke knew it too. A layer of sweat broke out on his brow. He was a master of Iaijutsu, a style that required absolute mental and physical focus for a single, perfect strike. With his body failing him, his window of opportunity was closing.
I have to end this now.
"Secret Sword: Wind Storm!"
Before his stamina plummeted further, Okisuke unleashed a flurry of rapid slashes. It wasn't his preferred "counter-attack" style, but against a child like Tatsuma, he hoped a barrage of pure speed would suffice.
Tatsuma reacted instantly, weaving two unique seals at top speed.
"Water Style: Water Wall!"
As the barrier manifested, several shards of ice shimmered within the flow. Tatsuma was momentarily surprised, but his [Divine Intellect] quickly calculated the reason: the freezing natural environment of the Land of Iron was passively chilling the chakra-formed water. It wasn't a "Crystal Release," just physics.
The ice shards provided extra durability, but Tatsuma's mastery of the simplified Water Wall wasn't perfect yet. Okisuke's wind-enhanced slashes tore through the barrier.
Whoosh—!
Tatsuma blurred to the side, narrowly avoiding the remaining air-blades, and lunged back into close-quarters combat. He stayed glued to Okisuke, refusing to give the samurai the distance needed to reset his stance or prepare another chakra-enhanced strike.
The duel was spectacular—far more engaging than the formal finals. The Sannin and Mifune watched in silence, their eyes fixed on the platform. With their level of experience, they had all noticed something strange: traces of Tatsuma's chakra were lingering on the stone.
Clang!
Okisuke finally caught a break, parrying Tatsuma and kicking him back several paces. He used the momentum to retreat, his blade sliding back into its scabbard. He was preparing his final, lethal Iai strike.
But Tatsuma smiled. He had been waiting for Okisuke to sheath that sword.
"Earth Style: Double Suicide Decapitation Technique!"
Two hands erupted from the solid stone beneath Okisuke's feet, seizing his ankles and dragging him downward. Okisuke tried to struggle, but with his sword sheathed, he couldn't strike the ground in time.
In an instant, he was buried up to his neck. The stone, reinforced by chakra, locked him in place. The "Tatsuma" who had been fighting him for the last dozen exchanges vanished in a puff of smoke.
Poof!
Tatsuma emerged from the ground nearby. The samurai in the audience who had never fought a ninja were stunned; for the young Okisuke, it was his first time seeing such a deceptive tactical victory.
Knowing he was beaten, Okisuke bowed his head in defeat. Tatsuma picked up the long sword he'd discarded earlier and held it to Okisuke's throat, grinning.
"It seems my conviction was just a little bit stronger."
Mifune felt a twinge of genuine emotion at those words. He had been looking for a reason to delay his promise, but seeing such a display of skill and "Senju-like" tenacity, his sense of honor won out.
"I lost," Okisuke admitted. Once the pressure of the fight vanished, his curiosity took over. "Tell me... when did you hide underground? I never saw you drop your guard."
"The moment you attacked me and gave me a reason to defend," Tatsuma answered.
He tossed the sword aside again and formed a single seal, slamming his palm into the stone. He hauled Okisuke out of the ground by his shoulder plates.
"Let me take care of that for you."
As Okisuke tried to stand, Tatsuma pressed a hand onto his shoulder. Once the samurai was still, Tatsuma hovered both hands over the abdominal wound.
A soft, teal-green glow emanated from his palms. The bleeding slowed, then stopped entirely. Okisuke felt the sharp pain fade into a dull throb, his eyes wide with shock. The Land of Iron had nothing like this; he had been prepared to be bedridden for weeks.
Mifune leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the glowing hands. He looked at Tsunade. "What kind of jutsu is that?"
"The Mystical Palm, a high-level medical ninjutsu that only a handful of specialists can master," Tsunade said with an air of immense pride. After all, this was one of the few things she had personally taught him!
Mifune took a deep breath. "I am a man of my word. I cannot mobilize the entire army this second, but I will go to the Daimyo immediately and do everything in my power to convince him. We will march."
"However... Konoha must provide a contingent of these medical ninjas to minimize our casualties. And those neighboring nations... your village must handle the diplomacy to grant us safe passage."
Hearing Mifune commit so wholeheartedly, the Sannin were ecstatic. They nodded quickly, finalizing the deal before he could change his mind.
Jiraiya glanced at Tatsuma, then at Orochimaru, sighing with relief. "Who would have thought? We brought them along to show them the world, and they ended up finishing the mission for us."
Tatsuma smiled as he looked up at Mifune, who gave him a respectful nod of approval.
[Ding! STR +5, PHY +5, NIN +5, INT +5. Pickup?]
[Pickup.]