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In the arena, Higashino Shinichi and Isshin stood twenty meters apart, facing each other in silence.
The brief quiet lasted only a heartbeat before it was swallowed by a roaring tsunami of cheers that threatened to blow the roof off the stadium.
"Shinichi! You got this!"
"Show that dirty outsider what a real Konoha genius can do!"
"We believe in you, Shinichi!"
"Go get him! For the Leaf!"
The support was louder and more passionate than anything before. Plenty of villagers already knew the gentle, hardworking boy genius who always wore that calm smile. Even those who didn't were swept up by the sight of the slender teen standing tall against a mountain of an opponent—refusing to back down—and by the quiet, magnetic steadiness that radiated from him.
"Shinichi, it's okay if you lose! Just stay safe! You're still our pride!"
The comment drew angry glares from the people around the speaker. Saying something so defeatist right now?
The man didn't notice. He just kept muttering to himself, "I mean, come on—the kid's great. Smart, hardworking, talented. Win or lose, he's a good boy and he's Konoha's pride. Just don't get hurt!"
The people around him paused, then realized he wasn't wrong. Still, in this moment when the whole village was pulling together, the words felt a little off, even a bit weak.
Out in the arena, neither fighter paid the slightest attention to the noise.
"Konoha Chunin, Higashino Shinichi."
"Land of Iron, Ashina Style Isshin."
Names exchanged. Short and to the point.
The referee took a deep breath and slashed his arm down. "Begin!"
BOOM!
The instant the word left his mouth, the massive samurai turned into a blurry afterimage.
Same as always—savage, brutal, no flash, just raw power and speed crushing the air into a skin-crawling shriek!
The katana in his hand became a blinding streak of cold steel, carrying mountain-splitting force as it came straight down at Shinichi's head.
Simple. Direct. The very definition of violent beauty. It looked like the next second would split the slim boy and the ground beneath him in half.
But what made every spectator's pupils shrink and their breath catch was this:
Facing the human wrecking ball's avalanche charge, Shinichi—the tall-but-still-slender teen compared to that iron-tower body—didn't dodge. He didn't weave hand seals. He didn't fire off a ninjutsu.
He planted his foot and charged straight in!
Like an arrow leaving the string, he shot forward to meet the attack.
His right hand snapped to the hilt at his waist. A crisp ring of steel sang out as the standard-issue katana left its sheath. Gripped in both hands, he swung it upward in a fearless counter-slash, meeting the falling blade head-on.
He was going strength against strength?!
CLANG!!!
The moment the two figures collided, an ear-splitting metallic roar—like a massive temple bell—erupted, louder than any clash before.
A visible ring of air pressure exploded outward from the center, kicking up dust and stone in every direction!
CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!
The rock-hard arena floor beneath their feet shattered like dry crackers, spider-web cracks racing outward in every direction.
When the shockwave and dust cleared a little, everyone saw it:
Shinichi stood firm, both hands on his blade, perfectly blocking the downward chop that could have cleaved giant boulders or solid steel.
His feet were sunk deep into the broken stone, but his posture was as steady as a mountain. Only his black bangs whipped back in the gale, revealing a pair of calm, deep-pool eyes.
He blocked it?!
He blocked a full-power slash from the monster who had just beaten two jonin head-on?!
"Oh?" Isshin's wild expression paused for the first time, showing a flicker of genuine surprise.
He stared into the calm eyes across the blade and spoke low, but loud enough for the whole arena to hear: "Not bad. You're a lot sturdier than you look."
Before the words finished, his eyes sharpened. The locked blade suddenly yanked back, trailing sparks, then exploded into a denser, more savage storm of slashes—like a hurricane of steel pouring down on Shinichi.
Slash, chop, sweep, thrust—every strike brutally simple, yet perfectly blending power, speed, and angle. The blade wind screamed like wailing ghosts.
At the exact same instant, Shinichi moved too. Chakra surged through his body and into the blade as he gripped the hilt tighter. He stepped forward and met the onslaught head-on—power against power, speed against speed—refusing to yield.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!!!
The rapid-fire metallic impacts merged into one continuous war-drum roar.
Every collision spat blinding sparks. Every clash sent visible rings of force exploding outward.
The two figures blurred into high-speed shadows that constantly slammed together and broke apart in the center of the huge arena.
Blade light flashed like silver ribbons, crisscrossing everywhere. The already-cracked floor looked like it had been clawed apart by a giant beast. Shattered stone flew like shrapnel, dust billowed, and the entire battlefield turned into a mess of craters and trenches in seconds.
"My god! Shinichi's actually trading blows with that monster?!"
"I always knew the kid was strong—he never stopped his weighted training—but this is… this is insane!"
"You guys forgot? When he first started the Academy, he used to carry boulders the size of small hills to school every day! I saw it with my own eyes!"
"I remember that too. I live near the Academy. Used to see him every morning… Then he stopped and I figured he gave it up or switched to something else…"
"Gave it up? Hell no! Ordinary weights just aren't enough for him anymore!"
Gasps, shouts, and admiration rolled through the stands. A lot of people felt like they were seeing the boy in a whole new light.
The old image of the "diligent genius" crashed together with the raw, violent beauty of the fight happening right in front of them, hitting everyone like a shockwave.
Up on the VIP platform, Advisor Utatane Koharu's shock still hadn't fully faded. She turned to the Third Hokage, who was calmly puffing on his pipe, and asked quietly, "Hiruzen, are you sure this boy Shinichi has no Senju bloodline?"
The Senju clan had quietly dissolved their name after the village was founded to support the First Hokage's ideal of "clans melting into the village." Even without the clan name, plenty of Senju descendants still lived in Konoha, mostly working in education and the Academy. (Canon reference: True Story of Itachi)
The monstrous strength and physique Shinichi was showing—far beyond anyone his age or even most adult jonin—naturally made people wonder.
Sarutobi Hiruzen slowly exhaled a plume of smoke, eyes never leaving the two figures clashing below. He shook his head. "We've checked his background thoroughly. Shinichi has no blood relation to the Senju clan."
"Guess the kid's just ridiculously gifted," Mitokado Homura chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "Reminds me of you when you were young, Hiruzen."
The Third's eyes softened with a flicker of memory. He smiled but said nothing.
Down in the arena the fight had already reached white heat. To everyone watching, it looked like an all-out, no-holds-barred brawl between two monsters.
Only Shinichi knew the truth.
He was throwing the match—left hand fighting right hand—while carefully figuring out how to make it look spectacular, hit harder, shake the crowd more, and leave a deeper impression.
"Haha! This is fun! Come on!"
Isshin let out a wild laugh. Being unable to break through only seemed to excite him more. He suddenly changed tactics—knocking Shinichi's blocking blade aside with a powerful twist. His left fist was already cocked, wrapped in unstoppable force like a siege ram aimed straight at Shinichi's open midsection!
Shinichi seemed to anticipate it. Instead of pulling the blade back, he used the pommel to slam into the incoming fist while his footwork shifted like a fish through water, trying to slip the force and counter.
But Isshin's combat experience was on another level. The punch twisted mid-path into a claw, fingers hooking like steel hooks to snatch Shinichi's sword wrist!
At the same time, his right leg whipped out like a steel whip, sweeping low at Shinichi's legs.
Shinichi's eyes narrowed. He adapted instantly—flicking his wrist so the blade edge met the grabbing claw, forcing the hand back, while his left leg snapped up to meet the sweep with a hard knee.
BANG!
Another heavy thud. Both men staggered. The already-shattered ground beneath them exploded into another spider-web of cracks, stone fragments shooting out like bullets.
Before the dust settled, the two figures shot forward again like released bowstrings.
Isshin laughed and swung his katana in an even fiercer overhead diagonal slash that tore the air apart.
This time Shinichi didn't meet it head-on. His footwork became light and flowing like a butterfly through flowers. At the last possible instant he slid sideways, blade kissing the falling katana in a perfect parry—stick, lead, redirect—shifting the massive force just enough. A high-level deflection technique.
The instant Isshin's blade was pulled off-line and his body hesitated, Shinichi twisted at the waist and snapped his right leg in a perfect, whistling arc—Konoha Whirlwind—slamming straight into Isshin's chest!
THUD!
A solid impact. For the first time in pure taijutsu, Isshin's mountain-like body was knocked backward. His feet gouged two deep trenches in the stone as he skidded nearly fifteen meters before stopping.
"He hit him!"
"Shinichi's got the upper hand!"
"Nice one, Shinichi!"
The stands erupted in thunderous cheers. People shot to their feet, sensing the first hint of victory.
Shinichi's eyes sharpened. He wasn't about to waste the opening. Chakra exploded under his feet as he shot forward like a shadow, katana thrusting straight at the gap Isshin's retreat had left.
But the instant the blade tip was about to reach him—
"HRAAAGH!!!"
A roar like an ancient beast exploded from Isshin's chest. His right foot slammed down like an elephant stomp.
BOOM!!!
The whole arena shook. The stone beneath his foot cratered violently, forming a several-meter-wide pit.
At the same time, a visible wave of raging chakra erupted from his body like a tidal wave, blasting outward like a solid hurricane.
Shinichi, closing in fast, felt an unstoppable wall of force slam into him. It was like running head-first into an invisible steel barrier.
His blocking blade hummed under the strain as the pure chakra shockwave sent him flying like a broken kite. He spun several times in the air before managing to right himself, sliding backward another dozen meters before stopping.
"What?!"
"That chakra?!"
Shocked cries filled the arena again.
"Now I'm fired up!"
Isshin's wild, battle-crazed shout rolled out with the still-settling chakra wave.
With a casual flick of his right hand, a vicious-looking fang-tian halberd—blade gleaming with cold, murderous light—suddenly appeared in his grip.
"Here I come, Leaf ninja!"
The moment the words left his mouth—
BOOM!
The ground under his feet, already cracked, heaved upward as if punched from below and then exploded completely.
A deeper, wider crater opened. Stone and dust geysered skyward.
The massive figure used the explosive force to launch himself straight up.
Mid-air, he raised the halberd high above his head. Every corded muscle and surging chakra in his body poured into his right arm.
The blade screamed as it tore through the sky, ripping the air apart and leaving visible white pressure waves on both sides.
Like a thunderbolt falling from the heavens or a legendary mountain-cleaving axe, Isshin poured every ounce of power, speed, fighting spirit, and chakra into this single devastating overhead strike, smashing straight down at Shinichi.
The halberd hadn't even arrived, yet the pure wind pressure from its terrifying mass and speed hit like a falling meteor, crushing the ground around Shinichi downward and shattering it inch by inch.
At the critical moment, Shinichi gripped his katana with both hands, raised it overhead, and poured chakra into his arms and blade, meeting the falling destruction with the flat of the sword.
CLANG!!!
An unprecedented deafening boom shook the entire arena!
It sounded like two iron mountains colliding. Blinding sparks and visible ring-shaped shockwaves erupted from the impact point.
Crack!
A faint but heartbreaking snap came from Shinichi's blade.
The next instant he was hit like a freight train at full speed. Both feet left the ground as he shot backward.
His body carved a trench dozens of meters long through the stone, spraying shattered rock like cannonballs that slammed into the distant barrier with loud bangs.
He finally crashed hard into the solid stone wall at the edge of the arena with a heavy thud and came to a stop.
About time to start the next phase of the performance…