Hatake Sakumo and Asuma

The Land of Iron, the only neutral country in the Ninja World, and also the only country whose main fighting force is not ninjas, but samurai.

It is located deep in the Three Wolf Mountain, covered by snow all year round. The cold wind howls down from the ridge, carrying fine ice particles, sweeping across the entire plateau.

This Ninja World for its abundant iron ore and rare Chakra Metal veins, supplying nearly half of the ninja tools and weapons for the Five Great Nations, has never been tamed by the harsh cold...

Land of Iron Capital

Snowflakes fell heavily on the streets, but they brought no chill to the city.

As the capital of the Land of Iron, this place is home to the most skilled blacksmiths in the entire Ninja World.

Forges for forging steel and blacksmith shops are everywhere. The whooshing sound of bellows being pulled and the clanging sound of hammers striking steel come from every alley, weaving together to create a unique rhythm for this country.

As the red-hot iron blocks were pulled from the furnace, the sparks that flew off dissipated in mid-air, leaving behind a heat that permeated the entire city.

Here, the snow melts into water vapor before it even hits the ground.

The moisture was then pushed by the heat from the next blacksmith shop, rising into a thin layer of white mist in the air above the street.

The people living in this city not only do not feel the slightest bit of cold, but rather feel as if they are living next to a warm fireplace...

In an inconspicuous corner of the city, a series of exceptionally crisp knocking sounds were coming from an ordinary mansion.

Pedestrians occasionally passing by on the street would unconsciously slow their pace and cast respectful glances at the mansion.

It wasn't just because they could discern the blacksmith's profound, almost artistic, skill in the sound of each hammer blow;

It was also because of the surname displayed in front of that mansion.

Those were not carved by any craftsman, but were written by the Daimyo of the Land of Iron, who specially sent two ink characters to deliver them.

Its name is -- Hatake.

In the ironworks deep within the mansion, waves of heat surged outwards.

A robust middle-aged man stood at the front of the stage, holding a huge iron hammer high in both hands, intently striking a red-hot samurai sword.

His eyes were very focused, and each hammer strike was extremely precise.

When it's heavy, it's like a meteorite falling to the ground; when it's light, it's like a dragonfly skimming the water.

His strong arm muscles contracted and relaxed with each strike, and his silver-white hair was covered in sweat.

The sweat evaporated into a wisp of white vapor the moment it dripped down, thanks to the high temperature emanating from the blade.

Sparks flew from his hammer, making his handsome face, though middle-aged, still shine brightly.

A tall and muscular young man stood silently behind the man.

In this snow-covered country, he wore only a black leather jacket over his chest, revealing the extremely well-developed muscles of his arms and chest.

The young man's bronze skin gleamed with a healthy, rugged sheen in the firelight.

He scratched his already messy hair in frustration, his rugged face clearly showing his impatience.

But those bright eyes, like an apprentice's, followed the silver-haired man's every hammer blow.

"Clang!!!"

As the final hammer fell, a glint of light suddenly flashed in the silver-haired man's eyes, which had remained calm and still.

With a flick of his wrist, he deftly and cleanly shoved the katana, which was already taking shape, into the water.

The quenching pool emitted a short hiss, and a large amount of steam exploded from the surface, churning into a cloud of scalding white mist in the cramped space of the iron shop.

After the steam dissipated, the silver-haired man slowly pulled the samurai sword out of the water.

The moment the blade left the water, a flash of silvery-white light burst forth in the air!

The light was cold and pure, and the wave patterns on the blade unfolded layer by layer under the glow of the furnace fire. Each line looked quite natural and perfectly formed!

Even an ordinary person who knows nothing about forging can tell at a glance that this samurai sword has reached the pinnacle of quality.

The silver-haired man raised the knife, his eyes gleaming as he looked at his newly created masterpiece.

A satisfied smile appeared on that face, etched with a few shallow lines by time but still gentle.

"It's been a long time! Uncle Sakumo Hatake, your cooking skills have become even more exquisite!"

The young man who had been standing silently behind them slowly stepped out.

As he spoke with genuine admiration, he naturally handed the man a clean towel.

Hatake Sakumo's hand, which had been taking the towel, froze in mid-air.

He looked at the young man before him, who was a full size stronger than he remembered, and a hint of undisguised surprise flashed in his eyes:

"Asuma? When did you arrive?!"

"... I've been standing here almost all afternoon, Uncle Sakumo Hatake."

Asuma stared at him speechlessly.

A rare hint of embarrassment appeared on Hatake Sakumo's usually gentle face.

He quickly wiped his sweat-soaked face with a towel and gave Asuma an apologetic smile:

"Sorry, I was in a good mood today and was so focused that I didn't notice you."

Hatake Sakumo draped the towel over his shoulder, his tone now tinged with a serious self-reflection:

"Although it was because I was too focused, I didn't even notice someone behind me for so long... Was it because I was too comfortable?"

He murmured softly, his eyes, softened by the passage of time, narrowing slightly:

"Although I'm no longer a ninja, I really can't neglect my ninja training."

Asuma listened to the heartfelt sentiments of the former White Fang of Konoha, and sensed the even more refined and restrained power within him than when they last met. His lips twitched slightly involuntarily.

"Is it possible that I'm stronger than when we last met?"

Hatake Sakumo's gaze sharpened slightly for a moment.

That wasn't the look a blacksmith should have; that look belonged to the man who once struck fear into the hearts of the entire Ninja World.

Konoha Hatake Sakumo, once one of Konoha's strongest fighters, the White Fang of Konoha!

He took the towel off his shoulder and carefully re-examined the younger man in front of him.

A few breaths later, a genuine look of amazement appeared in those still sharp eyes:

"As expected of the renowned ' Defiant Blade ' in the Ninja World today."

Your current strength is probably already greater than Kakashi's.

Upon hearing that nickname, Asuma reacted as if he had stepped in Pakkun's excrement, frantically waving his hands.

His rugged face was etched with a resistance that came from the depths of his soul:

"Alright, Uncle Sakumo Hatake! I know my own limitations!"

"At most, I'm only slightly stronger than Kakashi was a few years ago. How could I possibly compare to Kakashi now?"

At this point, as if suddenly remembering something, he added through gritted teeth:

"Also, don't mention that ' Defiant Blade ' to me again!"

I don't know which bastard started this cringeworthy nickname, it's awful!

If I find out who started this, I'll beat him to death!

Hatake Sakumo sensed the Chakra within Asuma that was even more abundant and restrained than when they last met, and smiled without comment.

He turned around, carefully placed the newly forged katana on the sword rack, and then subconsciously looked out the window.

That's the direction of Konoha.