Battle of the Final Four

The stands for the final four of the tournament were even more packed than they had been over the past two days.

The reason was simple.

None of the four remaining contestants were there to make up the numbers.

Inuzuka Kiba's ferocity, Ino Yamanaka's agility, Sasuke Uchiha's sharpness, and Uchiha Ling's strength—steadier by the day, yet increasingly impossible to read—were enough to give this semifinal real weight.

The first match was Ino versus Sasuke.

Before the match began, Ino stood at the edge of the arena, rolling her wrists. Her expression was more serious than usual. She knew full well that beating Sasuke head-on would be difficult, but she had no intention of simply admitting defeat.

"Try not to lose too badly." Kiba stood nearby with his arms crossed, still running his mouth.

Ino turned and shot him an eye-roll. "You should worry about how you're going to survive your match later."

Before stepping onto the field, her gaze instinctively swept toward Ling. Ling understood the meaning in her eyes and merely gave a faint nod.

Once the match started, Ino fought more cleverly than anyone had expected.

She did not clash with Sasuke directly. From the start, she kept stretching the distance between them, using wooden kunai and feinting footwork to disrupt his vision. She even deliberately exposed two minor openings to lure Sasuke forward. Against anyone else, it might actually have worked.

But Sasuke was Sasuke, after all.

He paused only slightly during the first probing exchange. By the second, he had already seen through Ino's rhythm and closed in with a faster frontal advance. Ino dodged the first strike, but the relentless sharp pressure still forced her back step by step.

Unlike their previous sparring sessions, Sasuke was clearly holding nothing back today. Even his Fire Release transitions and changes of direction were a level fiercer than during the evaluation test.

In the end, Sasuke accurately caught her landing point during one change of direction. A wooden kunai rested across her throat, and she was declared defeated.

She had lost, but plenty of people at ringside still cheered.

Because she had lasted longer than many expected, and had forced Sasuke to take things more seriously than usual.

"Ino Yamanaka, defeated."

When she stepped off the field, she looked somewhat unconvinced, but more than that, relieved.

"You fought well," Ling said as he passed her.

Ino snorted. "Complimenting someone at a time like this feels a little perfunctory."

Even so, the corners of her mouth rose despite herself.

The second match was Ling versus Kiba.

The moment Kiba stepped into the arena, he was different from usual. He did not shout or make threats in advance. His shoulders and back were drawn tight, his eyes like those of a young beast that had truly fixed on its prey.

He knew he might not have had another chance against Sasuke.

But against Ling, at least he had a chance to bite back and show everyone.

"Begin!"

Kiba exploded forward almost immediately.

Like before, his style still centered around close-range pouncing and relentless pressure. But compared to the past, his rhythm was clearly more mature this time. He was no longer charging in recklessly, instead consciously using feints to force Ling into reacting early.

In their first exchange, Ling was actually forced back half a step.

A wave of startled cries rose from the sidelines.

Even Kiba's eyes lit up.

There was a chance.

Without hesitation, he pressed forward again. Fists, elbows, knees—a flurry of close-range attacks as he tried to shatter Ling's rhythm before he could fully regain his footing. But Ling was no ordinary opponent.

That half-step back had not been disorder.

It had been Ling reassessing the changes Kiba had undergone during this time.

By the time Kiba changed lines for the third time to seize the center, Ling's judgment had become completely clear. He no longer defended passively. Instead, he met Kiba head-on with a heavier, explosive burst. A shoulder strike knocked aside the first attack, an elbow broke the second, and a final close-range backfist forced Kiba's pursuit to a halt.

Smack!

The two separated at the same time.

Kiba's chest heaved violently, sweat covering his temples, but his eyes still refused to yield.

"Again!"

Ling said nothing and lowered his center of gravity once more.

Their second collision was even fiercer than the first. Kiba pushed all his speed and ferocity to the limit, even beginning to disregard what came after. Ling, meanwhile, grew steadier the longer they fought, like a stone that became heavier with every blow. He continuously deflected the attacks at the smallest cost, then sent increasingly effective force back bit by bit.

The move that decided the match was a change of direction that no one fully saw.

To seize the initiative in that exchange, Kiba had pushed both his speed and center of gravity to the absolute limit. And because he had leaned too far forward, that half-step beneath his feet finally slipped out of control.

As Kiba lunged straight at him, Ling shifted sideways with a short step, his body nearly slicing past Kiba's flank. With a shoulder strike and a pull at the wrist, he sent Kiba's entire body straight over the white line.

"Stop. Uchiha Ling wins."

Kiba tried to force himself steady after rushing out of bounds, but in the end he stopped, breathing heavily. The sidelines fell silent for half a beat before erupting in enthusiastic cheers.

Because this was not merely a victory.

It was a clean victory, and an unmistakable one.

Kiba stood beyond the white line and stared at Ling for several seconds. At last, he gritted his teeth and snorted. "I'll fight you again next time."

Ling nodded. "Anytime."

There was no pity in it, nor was there any perfunctory consolation.

Hearing that, Kiba's frustration eased somewhat. As he turned to leave the field, he casually caught the towel Ino threw at him.

"You were actually pretty impressive today." For once, Ino did not laugh at him.

Kiba froze for a moment, then turned his face away even more awkwardly. "Of course I was."

And in the arena, in the stands, everyone's attention had already turned toward a new reality.

The finalists had been decided.

Uchiha Ling.

Sasuke Uchiha.

This time, it would not be a tie from training, nor a tug-of-war over scores from an evaluation test.

It would be the final battle for the championship of the freshman tournament.