2:30 a.m.
The spar was over. The two of them lay sprawled in the open space of the training ground, covered in dirt and grass.
Minato's chakra cloak had been scorched with several burn marks by Yan's magma film. Yan's Armament Haki was nearly depleted as well—it had gone from covering his entire body to leaving only his hands black.
"Just how much chakra do you have?" Minato asked, panting.
"That isn't chakra."
"Then does your... Devil Fruit power have a limit?"
"It does. But I haven't reached it yet."
Minato wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand.
"That's too unfair. A combat system that doesn't consume chakra—doesn't that mean you can keep fighting indefinitely? Every time I teleport with the Flying Thunder God, it drains chakra. By the end, I'll be out of fuel while you can keep going."
"That's why you need to improve your efficiency. Kill in one blow—that's the proper use of the Flying Thunder God. It isn't for fighting wars of attrition. You end the battle the first time you strike."
Minato considered it, then nodded.
"You're right. The essence of the Flying Thunder God is 'one-hit kill.' I still have a long way to go in that regard."
"Not that long. What you lack is real combat experience." Yan pushed himself up and sat straight. "Once you've fought Iwagakure's elite jonin for real a few times on the front lines, you'll naturally gain the things you can't learn on a training ground."
"You sound like you've fought for real plenty of times."
"I've fought for real more times than you've eaten bowls of ramen."
"Not necessarily. Do you know how many bowls I eat each time—"
"Enough. I don't want to discuss this."
Yan stood and dusted the dirt