Who's the Toughest Here?

"Hey, kid!"

The Enma King didn't pursue further. Instead, he stood still, arms crossed, his golden eyes scrutinizing Shinichi, who was still catching his breath a dozen meters away.

"From now on, you can use ninjutsu."

These words made Shinichi pause slightly. Over the past month of hellish training, both sides had set aside all tricks and clashed purely with the most basic taijutsu, strength, and endurance.

The Enma King had also made it clear: only by first letting the body remember the essence of power could anything else be discussed.

And in this unreserved sparring, he had truly felt the extraordinary nature of this young man's physique.

That astonishing strength, recovery, and endurance were hardly those of an ordinary human.

If Sarutobi Hiruzen hadn't explicitly told him earlier that this child was an orphan from a civilian background, the Enma King might have suspected he possessed some unknown Kekkei Genkai or had ties to the Senju clan, famed for their powerful bodies.

"Didn't you want to create your own Nintaijutsu?" Seeing Shinichi's expression, the Enma King's voice explained, "I really have nothing to teach you about the specifics of ninjutsu practice. Those hand seals and techniques of you humans aren't our clan's way."

He paused, then continued, "But combining the power you already have, making them flow quickly in battle, no longer separate taijutsu and ninjutsu but a natural whole like breathing... this process can perhaps be forced out in combat."

His meaning was clear: in the following sparring, Shinichi could freely use the ninjutsu he had mastered.

The goal was no longer simply to endure or dodge, but under the immense pressure brought by the Enma King, to try to truly link the release, restraint, and cover of ninjutsu with the movement, entry, and burst timing of taijutsu, seeking that feeling of integration, laying the most primitive practical foundation for the future concept of "Nintaijutsu."

"Come on," the Enma King's voice was deep and filled with absolute confidence. "Attack me with the resolve to kill me. Don't worry about hurting me. In today's ninja world, there's nothing that can wound me."

Some time later.

The training ground was even more chaotic than before, covered in scorched Fire Release marks and new craters, showing the battle had entered a new phase.

With an extremely sharp energy hum, that azure chakra sphere—the Rasengan—was seized by Shinichi in a fleeting moment and driven fiercely toward the Enma King.

The Enma King reacted swiftly. At the last possible instant, he raised his right palm to block this high-speed rotating energy ball, which contained terrifying penetrating power, along with a solid, heavy force.

Under the impact of this power, even the Enma King's mountain-like body couldn't fully stabilize. He was forced to slide backward, his feet digging deep into the ground, plowing two furrows until he stopped his retreat seven or eight meters later.

Dust rose faintly.

The Enma King lifted his eyes to look at the black-haired youth not far away, who was panting heavily, clearly exhausted. Then his gaze fell, staring at his right palm that had caught the Rasengan.

On his palm, a large piece of the tough fur, normally impervious to blades, had been torn away. Beneath it, the resilient skin was already broken, and a trickle of bright red blood was slowly seeping out.

He stared at that trace of blood, falling silent.

"Enma King-senpai, are you... alright?" Shinichi said, calming his breath.

In the battle just now, he had done almost everything he could, weaving multiple ninjutsu together to create openings, finally earning this close-range strike, forcing the Enma King to solidly take his full-power Rasengan.

Although the Enma King's body was famed for being "Indestructible Adamant Body," it wasn't literally absolutely indestructible. In the original future, his palm had been cut by Orochimaru's Kusanagi blade.

Speaking of Indestructible Adamant Body, this brings up another unique talent of the Enma clan—transformation.

They could completely weaponize their bodies according to battle needs, freely transforming into a form called the "Adamant Staff."

Once transformed into this unique weapon form, their hardness and strength underwent a qualitative leap.

Not only could they clash head-on with divine weapons like the Kusanagi blade without damage, but they could also send the rampaging Nine-Tailed Demon Fox flying out of Konoha with a single staff strike.

Even during the Fourth Great Ninja War, the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, used him in this form to shatter the Ten-Tails' dense Wood Release attacks, successfully saving Naruto Uzumaki.

Perhaps only in this "Adamant Staff" form did the Enma King truly deserve the title "Indestructible Adamant Body."

In contrast, his regular monkey form was more aptly described as "Steel Bones and Iron Sinews."

In this form, he could ignore the bombardment of most conventional ninjutsu and taijutsu, with terrifying defensive power.

However, when facing some powerful ninjutsu attacks or divine weapons like the Kusanagi blade, this strong body still had the possibility of being breached and injured.

"Good..." The Enma King's deep voice broke the silence. He shook his hand, splattering blood on the ground. "Not bad."

Perhaps feeling embarrassed that his earlier claim of "impossible to be injured" had been broken, his tone carried some awkwardness.

"Let's end this training session here for now," the Enma King said.

With that, without waiting for any response from Shinichi, his massive body vanished with a "bang," turning into a thick cloud of white smoke and disappearing on the spot.

In the center of the training ground, only an even more chaotic surface, fallen trees, and... where the Enma King had stood, some dark red bloodstains on the dust and rubble, not yet fully dried, remained strikingly conspicuous.

Seeing this, Shinichi's gaze lingered briefly on the bloodstains on the ground, his eyes shifting slightly.

But he didn't do anything. Instead, as after every high-intensity sparring session before, he let out a long, tired, and hot breath.

Then, silently, he began to clean up the messy ground, gathering the broken wood and roughly filling in the most obvious pits. Everything looked no different from usual.

A month later, the southern border of the Land of Iron, Forging Town.

This border town, adjacent to the Land of Fire, was famous for its mining and forging industry. The air was perpetually filled with a faint smell of metal and charcoal.

Inside a tavern called "Sakura View Pavilion," it was now a lively time.

The warm curtain hung low, unable to block the steaming heat and clamor inside.

Rough ceramic cups clinked together. People in various armor or travel clothes sat around low tables, mostly ronin, merchants, and local craftsmen. The air was mixed with the salty aroma of sake, grilled fish, and soy sauce.

People talked about the latest ore prices, the sightings of border patrols, or which workshop had received a large order.

Rough laughter and boasts rose and fell, a noisy din.

At that moment, the tavern's thick wooden door creaked open, letting in a gust of cold air.

A tall figure stood silhouetted against the light at the entrance. After a brief silence, a clear voice, carrying undisguised eagerness and brimming confidence, overpowered the indoor noise and reached everyone's ears clearly:

"Everyone, a question."

"In this Forging Town, who's the toughest fighter?"