Izuna and Sasuke

In a corner of the tavern, a young man with a buzz cut sat alone, quietly finishing the last sip of his weak liquor as if isolated from the world.

He silently put down a few Beli, got up and left his seat, walking step by step toward the conscription point at the village entrance.

As he passed the bulletin board, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

His gaze lingered on the word "justice" for a long time, concealing a deep contemplation and melancholy that no one could understand.

After a while, he withdrew his gaze, remained silent, and continued walking forward, leaving the idle chatter of the marketplace behind him completely behind.

The villagers could only see the immediate excitement and fear, but those who truly understood the situation had already foreseen the dramatic changes in the maritime landscape.

The captains of all the veteran pirate crews in the New World reached the same conclusion the moment they saw the recruitment notice.

The Navy was forced into a series of defeats by the Uchiha Clan and had no other choice but to rely on sheer numbers to stabilize the situation.

A massive number of rank-and-file troops may appease the hearts of the people in the Four Blues Affiliated Nation and barely create the illusion that order still exists, but it cannot fill the most fatal gap in high-end combat power.

A battle Admiral-Emperor Level is never something that can be won by sheer numbers.

Uchiha Natsu alone can hold off the Three Admirals.

Uchiha Fugaku or Uchiha Kei could overwhelm the current Navy, leaving them helpless and unable to resist.

This nationwide conscription is essentially a hopeless gamble.

The navy is attempting to gamble out a top genius capable of holding their own among millions of ordinary people.

But if Admiral-Emperor Level combat power could truly be selected in large numbers through conscription, how come the Four Emperors have been suffering from a chronic shortage of talent and have so few top-tier experts?

Ultimately, the layers upon layers of military defenses are nothing more than a fragile outer shell.

The rise of the Uchiha was an era-defining wave that swept across the entire ocean; a meager human defense line was utterly powerless to stop it.

The maritime landscape has undergone a complete transformation, and the old order has collapsed. Only the navy clings to outdated rules, holding onto its old tickets, stubbornly trying to dock at the new, transformed port.

Origin Island, backyard of Natsu's residence.

Sasuke lay on the grass, his cheek pressed against the warm grass from the sun, his whole body aching.

The Two-Tomoe Sharingan remained activated, slowly rotating within its socket.

To be honest, he couldn't clearly see the other person's movements from beginning to end.

It wasn't just that it was fast; it was that the timing was extremely precise.

Every time he raised his hand to form Hand Seals, the Kunai was already pressed against his throat;

Just as he was about to create distance, his knee struck him squarely in the abdomen.

He consistently ranked among the top three in the Clan Academy assessment, but standing in front of this man, his skill level was indistinguishable from that of a child who Kunai.

Izuna Uchiha stood to the side, his ninja tool pouch at his waist never opened.

He looked down at the boy lying on the ground, panting heavily, his tone gentle, without a trace of mockery.

"Your Fire Release Hand Seals are very fast, better than most Chunin our Sengoku period."

But before you unleash Ninjutsu, you always subconsciously take a deep breath.

Such obvious habits on the battlefield are enough for the opponent to predict your offensive; you must change them as soon as possible.

Sasuke raised his head, his forehead covered in fine grass clippings.

He looked up at Izuna Uchiha, his voice tinged with resentment. "How could you see everything so clearly? I had only just begun—"

"I've watched you train." Izuna Uchiha crouched down, picked up Kunai, and gently touched Sasuke's forehead with the blunt, unsharpened end, his posture natural, as if patiently guiding a junior.

"Yesterday you practiced Fire Release for two hours in the Training Ground, and I watched you from the sidelines for the entire two hours."

You have a good foundation, but your fighting style is too overt.

The sequence of Hand Seals, the rise and fall of your breath, even the angle at which your toes turn before swinging your sword—all of these tell the enemy your intentions in advance.

Sasuke pushed himself up from the ground, hastily wiped the grass off his face, and assumed a fighting stance once more.

"Again."

Under the eaves, Natsu leaned against a wooden pillar, holding a half-cup of cool tea, quietly watching Izuna Uchiha casually knock Sasuke down once again.

He turned his head to look at Ban beside him; the other man still had his arms crossed and a cold expression.

Natsu noticed that Madara's gaze was fixed on Izuna Uchiha the entire time.

That gaze wasn't the usual concern of an older brother; it was more like the calm scrutiny of a top-tier ninja.

Having been away from the battlefield for too long, Izuna Uchiha's combat experience was still stuck in the late Sengoku period.

At this moment, through his fight with Sasuke, he is recalibrating his perception of the current battle situation.

Every counter-offensive and accurate prediction is a way of measuring the distance between oneself and this new era through the actions of the young people.

"Izuna Uchiha- senpai, with Sasuke, has adapted to the current rhythm of battle," Natsu said softly, placing her teacup on the stone slab by the corridor.

Madara asked, "How much longer do you think Sasuke can hold on?"

Natsu looked towards the field, where the boy was repeatedly slammed onto the grass, yet he still struggled to get up and get into a fighting stance.

"I can probably hold out for another three or four rounds."

This child is extremely competitive at heart.

He rarely suffered defeats in the Clan Academy, and had never experienced such a complete setback.

There was no hatred in his eyes, only a pure, unwavering desire to win.

"Uchiha boys have always been like this," Madara replied calmly.

"Among the Uchiha disciples, few are like him, persisting in moving forward despite repeated defeats."

The action on the field suddenly stopped.

Izuna Uchiha withdrew his Kunai and reached out to Sasuke up from the grass. He looked directly at the boy, who was barely up to his chest, and asked softly, "Why do you keep getting back up after being knocked down so many times?"

Sasuke raised his hand and wiped the dust from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.

"I can't stop. I have an older brother, and everyone says he's a genius, but he's on the wrong path. If I stop, I'll never catch up to him."

Izuna Uchiha remained silent for a moment, then gently stroked Sasuke's head.

"You will catch up with him. Because you will distinguish right from wrong sooner." He paused, a subtle hint of melancholy creeping into his voice.

"I also have an older brother, who is equally powerful."

I've never thought he chose the wrong path, and I've always stood by his side.

In that respect, you are more remarkable than me.

For a split second, Ban's breathing paused very slightly.

His arms were still crossed over his chest, but Natsu saw that his knuckles, which were clenched tightly around his upper arm, suddenly tightened and then slowly loosened.

Natsu got up from under the eaves, brushed the grass clippings off her clothes, and walked to the edge of the Training Ground.

"Training is over for today. I'm taking him home to shower and change his clothes."

He looked down at Sasuke and continued, "Aunt Mikoto has prepared dinner. Make sure you're all tidied up before you go over; don't show up covered in mud."

Sasuke nodded, picked up the Forehead Protector that had rolled to the side, and followed Natsu into the house.

After walking a few steps, he suddenly turned back to look at Izuna Uchiha.

"Can I come back to ask you for advice again later?"