Sarutobi

A blazing torrent of flames could reduce a person to charcoal in moments.

The Black-Robed Man was prepared, completing his hand seals the instant his blade fell.

Anyone else would have been swallowed by the flames—but not a user of the Sharingan.

The moment the enemy puffed out his cheeks, Sosuke forcibly sidestepped to the other side. The scorching fire grazed past him, curling the ends of his hair slightly.

Bearing the suffocating wave of heat, the Youth clasped his hands together, attempting to counter with his most adept ninjutsu.

Yet the Black-Robed Man's experience was vast. The instant his ninjutsu missed, he forcibly cut off his Chakra output, burst Chakra from his feet, and closed in on the enemy's trail in a flash.

An arm clad in a vambrace swept in like a heavy hammer. Seeing this, Sosuke had no choice but to abandon his hand seals and switch to blocking with his blade.

Bam!

The Youth felt his body go numb as he was sent hurtling backward uncontrollably. Had his feet not been firmly rooted to the ground, he would have been flung away on contact.

Forced back seven or eight meters, Sosuke's face flushed red, his trembling arm barely able to grip the sword hilt.

The Black-Robed Man, in contrast, bore only a white scratch on his vambrace, otherwise unscathed. The gap in their Taijutsu was plain to see.

Worst of all, the enemy wouldn't even give him a chance to form hand seals.

"What's wrong? Where's that spirit from before?!" The Black-Robed Man pressed on relentlessly, his attacks a storm that gave the enemy no breathing room.

With no other choice, Sosuke forcibly activated Chidori Stream, finally driving the enemy back.

"You scum, don't get too cocky." Locking onto the enemy with his Sharingan, Sosuke rapidly formed hand seals. A shrill bird cry echoed through the stronghold.

Seeing the tangible Lightning Style Chakra, even the Black-Robed Man paused, surprised that the brat before him had hidden such a lethal move.

He'd planned to toy with him, but now it seemed he'd have to show some real skill.

"Come on." The Black-Robed Man's attitude never wavered. Even killing the First Boss hadn't stirred any emotion in him.

Such a man was either born cold, or utterly certain everything was under his control.

Either way, he didn't seem like the former.

Feeling the lightning barely contained in his palm, Sosuke planted his foot and shot forward like an arrow.

The Lightning Style constantly stimulated his cells, accelerating his speed. With the Sharingan locked on, no matter how the enemy dodged, he couldn't escape pursuit.

"What a terrifying technique." The Black-Robed Man bit his fingertip and slapped the ground.

The moment white smoke rose, the lightning bolt plunged straight into it without hesitation.

Seconds later, Sosuke retreated first, staring at his scarred arm with unprecedented gravity.

His Chidori ambush had failed for the first time.

Across from him, a red-furred monkey was raging, a scorched black mark on its chest—the imprint of the Chidori.

"Tch, that hurts! Kiyoshi, you bastard, nothing good ever comes from calling me out."

The red monkey howled wildly, its gaze at the Youth filled with murderous intent.

Clearly, that strike had stung.

Hearing the monkey's complaint, the Black-Robed Man laughed and threw back his hood, revealing a mature face around thirty.

"Don't be impatient. How about I let you tear him apart yourself later?"

By now, the Black-Robed Man's identity was obvious.

Whether the Fire Style earlier or this unique summoning beast, both pointed to one man.

A ninja of the Sarutobi Clan, renowned far and wide—Sarutobi Kiyoshi.

The clan's watchlist had a detailed record on him. He hadn't expected to run into him here.

"Troublesome." Recalling the man's intel, Sosuke's expression remained unchanged, but his mind was already working.

Placing a hand on the summoning beast's shoulder, the Black-Robed Man, Sarutobi Kiyoshi, suddenly spoke with a smile: "I never thought a brat would push me this far. You've done well, I'll give you that."

"From now on, I'll treat you as an equal and fight you with everything I've got."

"Enma, transform!"

Bam!

A flash of white smoke, and the man now held a broad-bladed heavy sword.

"Face your end, Youth." The Black-Robed Man swung the blade, sending a blue crescent slash hurtling forward. The three-meter-high fence behind the Youth snapped cleanly.

"Hey, can't you aim?!" The broad blade echoed with the summoning beast's irate roar.

"Haha, no help for it. He's a Sharingan user. If it were that easy, I'd be surprised."

With that, the Black-Robed Man leaped into the air, his blade slashing down a dozen times in rapid succession.

Even with the Sharingan's aid, Sosuke below could only dodge frantically. One misstep meant a severed body.

The seven-meter-long slashes kicked up clouds of dust before him. Seizing the chance, Sosuke vanished from sight.

"Not the Adamantine Staff I remember. Seems each Enma has a different transformation technique."

Splitting off two Shadow Clones to mislead the enemy, Sosuke's real body bided its time. As the enemy's attention was drawn away, he easily vaulted over the fence and fled the stronghold.

Sarutobi Kiyoshi's strength was formidable, absolutely at the elite Jonin level.

In terms of pure physical ability alone, Sosuke was still at the Genin tier—the odds of winning a one-on-one fight were far too slim.

If he truly had to fight, it would have to wait until he exchanged for the Cursed Seal and fought using diluted Nature Energy.

"Keep those points saved for now. One day, I'll come collect them in person."

Those were the words the Shadow Clone left behind before it vanished.

The Black-Robed Man didn't understand what "points" meant, but he knew he had carelessly let the enemy slip away.

Enma wasn't skilled at tracking, and he had no sensory abilities either. After searching all around for a long time, he still couldn't find any trace of the Youth.

"When did he slip away?" Sarutobi Kiyoshi was trying hard to recall.

After thinking it over for a long time with no result, the Black-Robed Man shrugged and personally sent the summon beast back.

The Sarutobi Clan ran the ironware business, with a supply chain stretching across the Land of Fire, and they also secretly supported some bandit forces to handle shady gray-market dealings.

The stronghold had stockpiled a batch of supplies, ready to ship overseas, when suddenly a Uchiha brat had come knocking on their door.

Now that they had driven him off, the Black-Robed Man would find someone else to take over the business.

As for conquering the Land of Fire—the Sarutobi Clan had never been interested in such things.

Business was business; it was about money. Let the Uchiha and Senju handle the fighting and killing.

"Forget it. He ran, so what? Just a brat."

The man didn't take him seriously at all.