“Bang!
Bang!
Bang!” As Fanma flicked his fingers, clumps of chakra emitted an unsettling whistling sound, descending upon Fugaku from all sides.
Fugaku’s Dance of the Sun Halo was only halfway through; the blade light had yet to condense, forcing him to abandon the offensive and shift into a defensive stance.
He frantically pulled back his sword, parrying left and right, his footwork shifting in a blur.
Against the incoming air pressure, he fought as if battling an invisible giant.
Fanma watched Fugaku’s desperate maneuvers, observing his body mechanics and blade mastery, quietly assessing his flaws.
He launched waves of chakra that pierced through the air, striking at Fugaku’s blind spots and exploiting the weaknesses Fugaku didn’t even know he had.
Fugaku was talented.
At first, he struggled to adapt to such a relentless, multi-angled assault.
He wasn’t exactly “scrambling for his life,” but he was certainly on the back foot.
Yet, miraculously, as he parried these chakra bolts, it felt as though someone were guiding his hands.
His swordsmanship became increasingly fluid, his footwork smoother, and his power transfer more cohesive.
Even a long-standing plateau in his blade mastery began to loosen, giving way to new realizations.
Being a smart kid, Fugaku immediately centered his mind, dedicating himself to the joy of this one-on-one masterclass.
The whistle of his sword grew sharper, his steps became direct and efficient, and his spine acted as the conduit for his entire body’s strength.
He became intoxicated by the sensation of constant correction and breakthrough.
Though his clothes were soaked in sweat and his bangs were plastered to his forehead, his eyes burned with fierce intensity and fighting spirit.
Fanma silently approved—he was, after all, the future clan head of the Uchiha; his comprehension and baseline skill were top-tier.
Fanma surged forward, delivering a horizontal kick.
Fugaku’s gaze hardened; he didn’t hesitate, thrusting his sword forward!
“Uchiha Style Sword Technique: Mirror Leap Flame!” Using a high-quality chakra-conductive metal blade paired with fire-natured chakra, the Uchiha secret technique unleashed a massive shockwave of flame.
It was a blade art said to be conjured from hell itself.
The blade met the kick—but there was no stalemate.
Fugaku was sent flying instantly, slamming deep into a brick wall.
Kushina gasped, nervously clutching Minato’s hand.
“Is Fugaku okay?
I’m kind of worried.” Minato shook his head and patted her hand reassuringly.
“Don’t worry.
I’ve known Fanma-sensei for seven years—I’m still alive and kicking, aren’t I?” The onlookers glanced at Minato with strange expressions, then back at Fanma, thinking: What a pair of monsters.
Fugaku dragged himself up, glaring at Fanma with unconcealed frustration.
He hadn’t expected to fail to withstand even a single strike.
Fanma looked at him calmly.
“The most terrifying thing about the battlefield is that you never know what kind of opponent you might encounter.” Truth be told, Fanma didn’t mean to teach him a lesson; he just saw Nawaki shutting down emotionally.
As the brother-in-law, he had to bolster Nawaki’s confidence, and using Fugaku as a foil was simply the most efficient method.
Fugaku, however, didn’t see it that way.
He bowed deeply and said, “I am truly indebted to you for the effort!” Keeping his head bowed in a position of respect, he asked, “However, Fanma-sensei, would you allow me to see your full strength?” Fugaku snapped his head up—the bow had been a ruse to gather genjutsu chakra for one final attempt!
“Genjutsu: Sharingan, Paralysis Jutsu!” The Paralysis Jutsu—the same ocular technique that Orochimaru fell victim to in the original story.
Typically released by a three-tomoe Sharingan, it was a fearsome genjutsu.
Fugaku, only a two-tomoe user, needed time to channel it.
He normally would have disdained such a sneak attack, but after hearing Fanma’s cold truths to Nawaki, his perspective shifted.
What is pride?
It’s redundant!
Victory is all that matters!
Seething genjutsu chakra manifested as several golden spears of light, taller than a man, erupting from the void above Fanma’s head to impale him!
Fanma watched with a flicker of satisfaction.
A student worth teaching.
What were the “pride of the Uchiha” or “heritage of a century” compared to survival and power?
As the golden spears closed in, they reached Fanma’s aura—and before they could even pierce his skin, the tips shattered, unable to advance another millimeter.
Fugaku’s eyes widened.
Such a failure could only mean a gap in mental strength and genjutsu mastery so vast that the genjutsu couldn’t even take form.
I see, Fugaku thought, feeling resentful toward the elders.
No wonder the famous genjutsu users in the clan never mentioned Fanma-bro’s mastery—they were all just waiting for the next victim to fall for it!
These bastards, caring so much about their face!
Before he could decide on his next move, a cold chill gripped his heart, and the sense of overwhelming dread he had felt at the clan meeting returned.
A violent, blood-red aura flooded the training grounds, spreading across the entire Uchiha compound.
It coalesced into the shape of a tiger, hungrily staring down Fugaku.
“You’ve improved, and I’m happy for that.
But as a lesson for ambushing your teacher, I’m going to hit you with a punch.” “If you don’t catch it…
you might die.” Even knowing Fanma was joking, looking at that demonic silhouette and the stifling, violent aura, Fugaku felt a primal panic.
It wasn’t a lack of trust in Fanma; it was a biological, instinctive terror of raw, overwhelming violence.
Fugaku went on full alert, his adrenaline spiking, his heart hammering against his ribs.
Fanma vanished, leaving only a lingering afterimage.
His two-tomoe Sharingan frantically scanned for Fanma.
Seeing the space ahead empty, his heart skipped a beat, and he slowly turned around.
Fanma was already standing behind him, poised in a Bengkquan (Crushing Fist) stance, ready to strike!
Fugaku despairingly closed his eyes.
His mind, eroded by the blood-red aura, fell into chaos, filled with a mess of disjointed thoughts.
Tap.
A flick to his forehead signaled him to open his eyes.
“Do not provoke those stronger than you.
That, too, is one of the most important lessons of the ninja world.” Fanma walked leisurely toward Nawaki.
Next, he had to provide some much-needed “psychological counseling” for the young man.
Earn Them Together!