The onlookers were all calculating in their minds: how does one defeat a ninja who is immune to genjutsu and possesses such staggering power and speed?
Fanma’s fighting style brought one figure to everyone’s mind—the Third Raikage of the Cloud Village.
Does this mean Uchiha Fanma already possesses “Kage-level” strength?
The Jonin exchanged glances.
This was the kind of earth-shattering news that demanded they return to their clans to conduct meticulous analysis.
The power dynamics of Konoha were on the verge of shifting.
Compared to the Third Raikage, Fanma’s destructive power hadn’t yet reached the level of the “Hell Stab,” but his speed, his “control-immunity,” and his ability to kill most ninja in a single strike made him an incredibly treacherous existence.
The Jonin subtly shifted their attention toward White Fang, Tsunade, Orochimaru, and Uchiha Setsuna.
The Third Hokage maintained a benevolent smile, his tone gentle as he said, “What is this?
The emergence of such strong youth in our village is a sign of Konoha’s prosperity.” Jiraiya sniffed at these words, thinking silently: I don’t know how many times I’ve sparred with him since we were kids.
“A strong young man”?
He’s always been an freakishly talented monster.
Yet, the Old Man’s remark felt loaded with unspoken meaning.
Orochimaru narrowed his snake-like eyes, whispering to Tsunade.
Judging by her unpleasant expression and the way her leg kept twitching under her dark green haori, she was harboring a deep, restless anxiety.
Over the years, Tsunade and Fanma had been in a “frenemies” state of constant bickering.
Unlike the dynamic between Tsunade and Jiraiya in the original story, theirs was a classic, slow-burn romantic progression that began with fighting and gradually warmed up.
Fanma was restless; every time he returned from an Anbu mission, he’d bring her local specialties, seek her out for drinks, and walk the streets with her under the starlit nights of the village.
What infuriated her was that Fanma never once expressed his feelings clearly.
The relationship had the potential to go the distance, but Fanma’s lack of initiative had trapped them in an incredibly awkward stalemate.
Uchiha Setsuna was also struggling to contain his inner agitation.
In truth, he had awakened the Mangekyo Sharingan.
Self-proclaimed heir to Madara Uchiha’s will, he had awakened the power after witnessing his brother die in the First Shinobi War.
However, because no one had taught him how to use it, he had squandered its power recklessly in his youth, and now his vision was noticeably deteriorating.
As the head of the Uchiha’s most militant faction and the clan leader, if he wasn’t worried about his fading sight, he would have long since unified the factions and challenged the Hokage building.
His feelings toward Fanma were complex.
On one hand, he valued this young, powerful tribesman; on the other, he was shackled by traditional bloodline supremacy.
When Fanma was young, he had constantly lobbied to bring Fanma’s training back into the traditional fold.
He believed taijutsu had a ceiling.
For someone inheriting the Uchiha bloodline to ignore the power of the veins in favor of tempering the flesh was, in his eyes, a fool’s errand.
But witnessing Fanma’s performance today, Setsuna’s Uchiha-exclusive obsession flared up.
He decided to reveal his Mangekyo; it didn’t matter if he went blind.
If such a promising tribesman returned to the “correct path” of ocular power, the Uchiha would surely produce an unrivaled leader!
Setsuna felt a burning sense of mission.
He must make Fanma realize the importance of the eyes.
If Fanma knew these thoughts, he would undoubtedly quip: The Uchiha clan really is a factory for psychotics and paranoid nutjobs.
“—Swish.” The silence was broken.
Challengers appeared on the field.
To everyone’s surprise, Uchiha Setsuna and Tsunade moved simultaneously, stepping onto the stage.
The atmosphere became awkward; the Senju and Uchiha had been rivals since the village’s inception.
Since the passing of the Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju, that antagonism had deepened, leading to the Uchiha’s growing isolation in the village.
Their proud nature prevented them from offering explanations, making their situation increasingly dire.
Tsunade didn’t say much.
She crossed her arms, lifted her chin, and squinted at Fanma, a trace of provocation in her eyes.
It seemed her accumulated grievances were deep.
Setsuna, meanwhile, was not about to yield.
To him, what he was about to do was a major act for the prosperity of the Uchiha.
It was the perfect occasion to dedicate himself to the clan: burn himself out, justify the Uchiha, force the Hokage’s hand, and reel in a genius who had strayed from the path—all in one fell swoop.
Fanma looked at the two of them with amusement.
One was a moody girl looking to pick a fight, the other an inexplicably pumped-up middle-aged man—a strange combination indeed.
He figured he’d already caused enough of a stir, so he might as well take it to the limit.
Fanma asked, his tone gentle yet infuriatingly cocky, “I mean no disrespect, but if neither of you wishes to yield, how about I try fighting you both?
Senju and Uchiha have been the best of partners since the village was built; why don’t we fight side-by-side today?” Tsunade stomped her foot, snarling, “What does that mean?
You bastard!
Are you looking down on me?” Setsuna stood solemn, staring at Fanma, and replied seriously, “I have no objections.” Tsunade looked at Setsuna in shock.
The famously arrogant Uchiha clan head was actually willing to team up with a Senju to take down a junior of his own clan?
It was bizarre.
Setsuna ignored her, his gaze fixed firmly on Fanma.
Fanma felt a flash of surprise—What is the old man planning?
The Third Hokage puffed on his pipe, exhaling a deep cloud of smoke, and turned to Danzo.
“What do you think?” Danzo flicked his hand in disgust.
“You should quit smoking, Hiruzen.
But I support this.
It is vital to understand the village’s current true combat strength.
In a war of this scale, we haven’t seen our main forces in action yet, and identifying those who can shoulder the burden is not easy.” The Third cast a side-glance at Danzo; for Danzo to say something so pragmatic was rare.
Fanma cleared his throat and addressed the crowd.
“I mean no disrespect to either Jonin; I have simply made a small breakthrough in my training recently, and I wish to test myself against you both.” This was the kind of “step-down” that was worse than not giving one at all.
Tsunade’s face turned an even angrier shade of red.
She was, after all, only in her twenties (though her personality might not change much even at fifty).
The Third Hokage looked at Fanma.
“Then, even in a two-on-one, if you lose, you will be eliminated.” Fanma shrugged indifferently, then decided to raise the stakes.
“Then, Lord Third, if I win, I hope you grant me the chance to study a Forbidden Jutsu.
If I lose, I volunteer to take over the village’s taijutsu instruction for the next month, open to everyone.” The Third was overjoyed and signaled his agreement with a wave of his hand.
In this era, Jonin were precious political and military resources, notoriously difficult to deploy.
Each had unique personalities and, fresh from the blood-soaked battlefield, they rarely taught outsiders unless they were close friends or clansmen.
Fanma, possessing the best taijutsu in Konoha, volunteering to teach was a massive gain for the village.
“Good.
Then I will raise the stakes further,” the Third announced to the assembly.
“The victor will receive an additional chance to study a Forbidden Jutsu.
If Uchiha Fanma wins, that makes two.
Furthermore, if Fanma wins, I grant him the priority to organize the troops.” The Third smiled, looking at the assembled Jonin.
Some might find it unfair that Fanma had bypassed the normal selection process, but in the ninja world, rules were secondary to raw power.
Rules were for the weak; the strong didn’t follow rules, and they certainly weren’t punished for it.
Fanma smirked inwardly—the old man was putting him on the spot.
He saw Fanma’s strength growing too fast and wanted to gauge his limits while saddling him with more responsibility.
The Third cleared his throat, his expression suddenly grave.
“Very well, prepare yourselves.
Setsuna and Tsunade, you have ten minutes for a tactical meeting.” Fanma rolled his eyes, speechless.
A tactical meeting?
Are they that desperate for me to lose?
Setsuna, shedding his usual aloofness, ran over to confer with Tsunade.
The two stood back-to-back, whispering furiously, and the atmosphere was surprisingly cordial.
It was a timeless truth: internal unity only ever manifested in the face of a powerful common enemy.
The Jonin were in a frenzy of excitement.
The Uchiha clan head and the granddaughter of Hashirama Senju, joining forces?
To fight a single person?
Regardless of who won, this would be gossip for decades.
Fanma didn’t plan to hold back any longer.
Facing both of them, the pressure would be significant; he couldn’t be as effortless as before.
Tsunade was now an excellent medical ninja, and her Strength of a Hundred technique was mature.
As for the old man Setsuna, given today’s strange behavior, he couldn’t be underestimated.
Regardless, today would be the battle that defined him.
To accumulate the experience points the system required, refine his traits, and secure a command position, he had to obtain this victory to ensure he could choose his own battlefield.
Only then could he accumulate merit, exchange it for the Scroll of Sealing, and learn sealing arts and space-time ninjutsu to patch his own flaws.
Fanma’s heart felt a rare, searing heat.
This time, no one could stop him.
This was the first major step in a decade of building his foundation!