Uchiha Ryūha's voice was soft, almost a whisper.
But the syllables carried an ancient, icy rhythm, as if they had come from the depths of an abyss. They rang clearly through the deathly silent forest—
"Ruler."
The Rogue Ninja swinging his blade at Haruno Kazuya paused for the briefest moment.
Not because he understood the words, but because of some instinctive reaction—the same instinct that made a beast's fur stand on end when faced with its natural enemy.
"Mask of flesh and blood, all creation, beating wings, those who bear the name of man."
A tiny red light began to gather in Ryūha's palm.
It wasn't the blue of Chakra or the orange-red of Fire Style. It was a deeper, hotter crimson, like the heart of molten lava.
Matsumoto Ryūichi's pupils contracted sharply.
No Hand Seals.
No sign of Chakra gathering.
What was that?!
"Heat and chaos, rolling back across the sea to the south. Advance, step by step—"
The dark-red point of light spun, compressed, and expanded in Ryūha's palm.
The air around them began to warp. Fallen leaves stirred without a breeze, and tiny grains of sand rose into the air.
"Hadō #31: Shakkahō."
The moment the final syllable left his lips—
BOOM!!!
A crimson fireball over four meters in diameter surged from Uchiha Ryūha's palm!
Unlike the explosive spread of the Great Fireball, this was pure concentration and penetration.
Lava-like patterns flowed across its surface, and its core burned an almost blinding white.
The air warped in ripples wherever it passed. Fallen leaves on the ground instantly carbonized, while the bark on the ancient trees to either side cracked with sharp snaps and blackened.
It was too fast.
From the start of the incantation to the moment it fired, barely two seconds had passed.
The Rogue Ninja's vicious grin had not even fully turned to shock before the crimson fireball swallowed him.
There was no explosion.
Only a hiss, like red-hot iron plunged into ice water.
Then, his human silhouette evaporated in the crimson light.
His upper body, from shoulder to waist, turned to ash in an instant.
His short sword melted into droplets of molten iron. What remained of his lower body swayed before toppling backward.
The severed edge was charred black. Not a single drop of blood had time to spill.
Time seemed to stop.
The savagery vanished from the faces of the two remaining Rogue Ninjas, quickly swallowed by boundless terror.
They usually followed Mikami Guiyu around, robbing people. This time, they had taken a bounty, never imagining they'd run into this.
"Monster..."
"Run! Run for your lives!"
They shrieked and turned, sprinting into the forest with every ounce of strength they had.
They didn't even care that their leader was still locked in combat with Matsumoto Ryūichi.
Mikami Guiyu, too, had been fatally distracted the instant Shakkahō erupted.
"You let your guard down." Matsumoto Ryūichi's cold voice came from beside him.
The Kunai pierced his heart with pinpoint accuracy, twisted, then withdrew.
Mikami Guiyu looked down at the blood gushing from his chest. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He crashed to the ground.
The battle was over.
From the moment Ryūha raised his hand to the moment one of the three Rogue Ninjas died and the other two fled, less than ten seconds had passed.
Silence returned to the forest.
Only the blackened trench left in the wake of Shakkahō remained.
And the pungent stench of burning flesh and wood in the air, proof of what had just happened.
Haruno Kazuya slumped to the ground, mouth agape, staring blankly at the charred corpse, now only half intact.
Then he slowly turned to look at Uchiha Ryūha, who still held the cat carrier and wore a calm expression.
The Kunai in Fujiwara Itsuki's hand clattered to the ground. He didn't even notice.
He just stared at Ryūha, his throat making a rasping sound as he gasped for breath.
Matsumoto Ryūichi stood frozen, his hand trembling slightly around his Kunai.
He slowly turned to look at Uchiha Ryūha.
The black-haired boy had lowered his hand and was checking on the cat in the carrier.
The white cat, Tama, seemed frightened by the commotion. It cowered in a corner of the carrier, ears pricked warily.
Ryūha took another piece of dried fish from the bag and fed it through the carrier. The white cat hesitated, then came over and nibbled at it.
His movements remained unhurried, even faintly casual.
As if he hadn't been the one to evaporate a Genin with some unknown technique just moments ago.
"Tea—Teacher..." Haruno Kazuya finally found his voice, though it was hoarse.
"Wh-what was that? No Hand Seals... Fire Style... Can Fire Style really be used like that?"
Fujiwara Itsuki also turned to Matsumoto Ryūichi, his eyes full of confusion and curiosity.
Matsumoto Ryūichi didn't answer.
He stared at Ryūha, his lips pressed into a rigid line.
As a Jonin, he had seen countless Ninjutsu.
The five elemental styles, secret techniques, Kekkei Genkai... but he had never seen Fire Release like that.
No, had that really been Fire Style?
No Hand Seals—that was impossible.
It wasn't some kind of Genjutsu innate to a Kekkei Genkai like the Sharingan.
All other Ninjutsu required changes in Chakra form and nature, and Hand Seals were the most stable, universal way to guide and control those changes.
Using techniques without Hand Seals existed only in legend. It was a realm accessible only to someone on the First's level.
And yet Uchiha Ryūha had used no Hand Seals at all.
He had only chanted... those strange syllables that no one could understand.
And the fireball's power...
Matsumoto Ryūichi's gaze fell on the blackened trench.
The trench was half a foot deep, and the soil along its edges had vitrified into a crystalline layer. Only extreme heat, applied in an instant, could cause such an effect.
An ordinary C-rank Great Fireball covered a large area, but its power was dispersed, focused mainly on impact and burning.
That crimson fireball, however, had been incredibly concentrated, with terrifying penetrating power. Its temperature had been beyond comprehension—how much heat did it take to evaporate a human body in an instant?
That was no ordinary Fire Style.
That power, that speed, that method of casting...
Matsumoto Ryūichi's heart began to pound uncontrollably.
Incredible.
And there was something else, something he himself didn't want to admit... awe.
"Ryūha."
He finally spoke, his voice dry.
Uchiha Ryūha looked up, adjusted his glasses, and met his gaze calmly.
"What you just used," Matsumoto Ryūichi said, drawing a deep breath, each word difficult to force out, "what exactly was it?"
The wind swept through the blackened trench, lifting a few wisps of ash.
Haruno Kazuya and Fujiwara Itsuki held their breath and looked at Uchiha Ryūha.
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