Nawaki was trapped in the Sharingan genjutsu, his body stiffening before he plummeted toward the ground.
Fanma flickered, catching him and setting him gently on his feet.
Fugaku stood by, looking rather speechless—is this really the grandson of the First Hokage?
Fanma released a faint wisp of his “Predatory Field,” sweeping it over Nawaki and instantly shattering the genjutsu.
Nawaki blinked, snapping back to reality, his face darkening with embarrassment as he hung his head.
Fanma patted his head and began his commentary on the preceding fight.
“In the ninja world, the power of lineage is paramount,” Fanma stated.
“Take the Uchiha: members who awaken their eyes gain vastly improved dynamic vision, allowing them to track taijutsu movements at the Jonin level.
This is why they can copy hand seals and, by extension, mimic ninjutsu.
Some talented members might enhance their genjutsu, while others improve the quality of their chakra.” “Other villages have their own powerful abilities: the Mist’s Shikotsumyaku, the Rock’s Explosion Release, the Cloud’s Storm Release, the Sand’s Magnet Release…
these are all things you will struggle to deal with.
You must maintain a sense of reverence for the world and your opponents.” The students fell into a contemplative silence.
Nawaki clearly felt the sting of his failure, his face clouded with worry.
“However, stripping a ninja of their life doesn’t always require deep techniques or a proud bloodline; it only requires the right approach.” Fanma looked at Nawaki and produced a small box, asking slowly, “If you were behind enemy lines and an old man approached you, thanking you for avenging his child, and offered you this box—claiming it contained a map of the area—would you take it?” Stung by his previous failures, Nawaki hesitated.
“I…
I might take it.
But I would analyze if the old man was a villain.
I would be very, very careful,” he added hastily.
Fanma nodded and pulled an enhanced explosive tag from the box.
This red-tinted version, which they had seen in the Academy, was a notoriously dangerous piece of equipment.
“This is one of the possibilities.
Inside could be a map, an explosive tag, or toxic gas.” “Until you reach my level of strength, my requirement for you is to assume that everything you are handed is this tag.” Fanma crushed the explosive tag with his bare hand.
Fire and light engulfed the training field, a violent blast of air brushing past the students’ faces.
Yet, Fanma’s hand remained completely untouched—as if he had popped a balloon rather than detonated a lethal weapon.
Minato and Kushina, having seen the commander selection battle, were unimpressed; they had seen Fanma-sensei shatter Susanoo with his bare hands and tank Fire Style: Great Fire Annihilation.
A simple explosive tag was nothing.
Nawaki, however, stood with wide eyes, completely incredulous.
In the old Senju clan traditions, Nawaki would have been taught such dark secrets by private tutors.
But he had been born during the massive restructuring of the Senju branch families.
To demonstrate their “sincerity” to the village, Nawaki was essentially raised as a civilian ninja.
Everyone had been kind to him, but no one had expected him to be the next Hashirama; they just wanted him to be happy.
Living his carefree Academy life, he had never seen the true power of a top-tier ninja or the cruelty of the world.
Fugaku narrowed his eyes, his Sharingan deepening.
This was his first time seeing Fanma truly act; usually, he only heard the outrageous stories.
He knew Fanma was strong, but their bond was built on Fanma’s culinary skills—Fugaku had often snuck over to eat at Fanma’s house as a child.
The Uchiha blood in his veins began to stir with excitement.
I wonder if I can actually fight Fanma-bro.
Fanma continued, unbothered: “Having strength gives you room to make mistakes.
Otherwise, you’re just cannon fodder in war.
Nawaki, don’t be sad.
These three are stronger than you right now.
Do you want to know why?” Nawaki looked at the others, no longer arguing, and gave a slow nod.
Fanma pointed to Kushina.
“Kushina grew up under Lady Mito’s tutelage and inherited the Uzumaki clan’s sealing arts.” He turned to Minato.
“Minato has been with me since he was five.
I’ve personally guided his training for over seven years, including daily extra sessions after school.” He patted Fugaku.
“His Sharingan awakened when he witnessed his comrades fall in battle, and he trains obsessively every day.” Finally, Fanma looked at Nawaki and said in a firm, low voice: “They paid a price for their power.
But Nawaki, you aren’t wrong, either.
You had a happy childhood—something many desire but can never have.
But when facing enemies and war, you must change your way of thinking.” Nawaki drooped his head, lost in thought.
“Don’t worry.
Follow my lead, and you will soon be a remarkable ninja.” Nawaki’s eyes lit up.
“Yes, Fanma-sensei!” Fugaku stepped forward, looking at Fanma earnestly.
“Fanma-bro, can I spar with you?
I’ve always hoped to receive your personal instruction!” Minato and Kushina wore awkward expressions.
They had long since figured out the best way to deal with someone like Fanma-sensei: keep quiet and run fast.
Kushina had activated her Kagura Mind’s Eye, but because she preferred training her Adamantine Chains, she hadn’t deeply developed her sensing skills.
Still, after seeing the duel between Jonin, Minato began obsessing over the Flying Raijin and Kushina over her sensing, all in the name of safety.
Who knows how many monsters like Fanma-sensei or Lord Orochimaru are hiding in this world?
Minato hesitated, but before he could say anything, Nawaki, now energized, shouted: “Fanma-sensei, please teach me too!” Fanma looked at Fugaku with a strange expression.
Nawaki being an idiot is one thing, but has Fugaku always been this brave?
Has he not seen Elder Setsuna still lying in bed?
He turned his gaze toward Minato, but Minato waved his hands frantically, grabbing Kushina and fleeing behind Tsunade’s back.
Fanma laughed, deciding not to force the two “little smartypants.” “Well then, Nawaki, Fugaku…
are you ready?” Fugaku nodded, calculating internally.
With Fanma-bro’s defense, there’s no point in using ninjutsu.
But I wonder how his genjutsu resistance is?
I’ve heard taijutsu specialists usually struggle there.
He drew his blade, his Sharingan spinning rapidly.
His form shifted, and his longsword elegantly sliced toward Fanma.
“Uchiha Style Sword Technique: Dance of the Sun Halo!” Blade light merged with chakra; the slash was as beautiful as a sun halo dancing.
Fanma chuckled.
As for the Uchiha clan’s flamboyant taijutsu style, he had only one thing to say: Uchiha Madara caused a lot of trouble.
Madara could afford to be flashy because he could just activate his Susanoo if he had an opening, but the rest of the clan couldn’t.
This sword style excelled in beauty and lethality, but its flaw was that it was simply too flashy.
Chakra gathered at his fingertips, becoming increasingly dense.
Fanma flicked his finger, and several clumps of chakra flew out at high speed, tracing white lines through the air as they shot toward Fugaku’s blind spots.
Earn Them Together!