"So you're the kid who uses that strange power?"
Madara Uchiha's voice slammed into him, every word carrying the pressure of a mountain.
Ryuto knelt on one knee, panting, his arms trembling.
He looked up at the man five meters away, his black hair whipping wildly.
His Sharingan were blood-red, as though they would suck a person in.
"That's me," Ryuto said, his voice terribly hoarse.
Bracing his hands on his knees, he slowly stood.
His legs were weak, and he swayed, but he didn't fall.
Madara watched him without moving.
"Izuna lost," Madara said, his tone flat, betraying no emotion. "His Sharingan bled, his Susanoo shattered, and you drove back five Tailed Beasts with one strike."
He took a step forward.
The ground cracked with a snap.
"You'll answer for my brother's injuries."
Ryuto didn't reply.
He was regulating his breathing.
Not a drop of Ki remained.
His body felt hollow, like a bottle drained dry.
But he could still move.
His physique, strengthened by months of weighted training, held up now.
He concentrated the last of his strength in his limbs.
He took a fighting stance.
Madara watched him, his Sharingan shifting.
"You can still stand?" Madara said. "Interesting."
He formed no hand seals.
He didn't activate Susanoo.
He simply walked toward Ryuto, one step at a time.
He wasn't fast.
But with every step, the pressure grew heavier.
Ryuto stared at him.
Ten meters.
Five meters.
Three meters.
Madara suddenly moved.
It wasn't the Body Flicker Technique.
It was a pure Taijutsu dash.
Whoosh!
He shot forward like a cannonball, driving a fist at Ryuto's face.
Ryuto tilted his head aside.
The wind from the punch brushed his face, scraping painfully across his skin.
He drove his right elbow toward Madara's ribs.
Madara blocked with his left hand.
Bang!
A shock wave burst outward.
The impact drove Ryuto back two steps, his arm numb.
Madara remained where he stood, unmoving.
"Decent strength," Madara said. "But too slow."
He charged again.
This time, he used his leg.
A whipping kick swept toward Ryuto's waist.
Ryuto jumped to evade it.
Madara's leg changed direction in midair, sweeping upward toward Ryuto's chin.
Anticipation.
His Sharingan had already seen through all of Ryuto's movements.
Ryuto crossed his hands and pressed down.
Bang!
The kick sent him flipping backward, and he staggered several steps on landing before regaining his balance.
His chin burned with pain.
"Your reactions are too slow," Madara said, closing in again. "Your movements are full of openings."
He punched.
A straight punch.
Ryuto blocked.
Halfway through, the fist suddenly opened into a palm and clamped toward Ryuto's wrist.
Ryuto pulled his hand back.
Madara's knee was already driving into his abdomen.
"Ugh!"
Ryuto grunted and doubled over.
Madara chopped his hand toward the back of his neck.
Ryuto gritted his teeth, pushed off the ground, and slid backward.
The knife-hand strike grazed past his neck.
That had been close.
"A rather clumsy dodge," Madara said, not pursuing. "But how many more times can you dodge?"
Ryuto panted.
His abdomen hurt terribly.
Madara's Taijutsu was on an entirely different level from Izuna's.
He was faster and stronger, and every move was absurdly precise.
The Sharingan's perception, combined with combat experience honed through countless battles.
An overwhelming advantage.
"Have you used up that golden energy?" Madara asked. "Use it again. Let me see."
Ryuto said nothing.
He was squeezing it out.
Forcing it from between his muscles, from his bones.
A tiny amount of Ki gathered again, as slowly as a crawling snail.
Not enough.
Nowhere near enough.
Madara came at him again.
This time, it was a combination.
A left hook, a right straight, a low kick, a high elbow.
The sequence flowed seamlessly.
Ryuto blocked.
Bang, bang, bang, bang-
Every block forced him back a step.
His arms grew increasingly numb.
Madara's punches were too heavy.
Ryuto failed to block the final punch.
Boom!
It landed squarely on his chest.
He went flying and crashed to the ground five meters away.
"Cough..."
Ryuto coughed up a mouthful of blood and struggled to his feet.
His chest felt as though it had been struck by an iron hammer. Even breathing hurt.
Madara stood where he was, watching him.
"That's it?" Madara said. "How disgraceful that Izuna lost to you."
Ryuto wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.
He straightened.
He had finally squeezed out a tiny bit of Ki.
It coated his fists.
The golden light was faint, like a guttering candle in the wind.
But it was there.
Madara's eyes lit up briefly.
"You can still use it?" He smiled. "Come on. Show me."
He charged.
Ryuto charged too.
The two collided.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Fist met fist, foot met foot.
Ryuto used that tiny bit of Ki only at the moments of attack and defense.
He strengthened his fists when he struck.
He strengthened the point of impact when he took a hit.
He rationed it carefully.
But Madara's Taijutsu was too strong, and his Sharingan was too unfair, able to anticipate Ryuto's every movement.
Madara tilted his head aside to evade Ryuto's punch at his face, simultaneously slamming an elbow into Ryuto's ribs.
Crack-
A bone cracked.
Ryuto's face went white with pain.
He gritted his teeth and swung his other hand at Madara's temple.
Madara raised a hand to block, then caught Ryuto's wrist and twisted.
Pop-
The sound of a joint dislocating.
Ryuto grunted and kicked at Madara's shin.
Madara released him and stepped back, evading it.
The two separated.
Ryuto panted heavily, his left wrist hanging limp, unable to exert any strength.
The pain in his ribs was excruciating.
His Ki was gone again.
Madara looked at him and shook his head.
"You have some potential for Taijutsu," Madara said. "But your fundamentals are terrible. You've had no systematic training. It's all improvised."
He walked forward.
"Is this all you're worth?"
Ryuto backed away.
One step, then two.
Behind him lay the enormous crater he had blasted out.
There was nowhere left to go.
Madara stopped.
"Looks like that's all," he said. "Then you can die."
He raised a hand.
Chakra gathered in his palm.
It wasn't Ninjutsu, just pure compressed Chakra.
But it was powerful enough to kill Ryuto as he was now.
Ryuto stared at that hand.
He gritted his teeth.
He staked every last scrap of his willpower on it.
Ki, compress.
Force it into his fist.
Failure.
There was too little Ki. He could not gather it at all.
Backlash.
"Pfft-"
He spat out another mouthful of blood and dropped to one knee.
Madara's hand reached toward the top of his head.
"It's over."
At the critical moment.
"Stop!"
A deep, powerful voice thundered from the edge of the battlefield.
Madara's hand stopped.
He turned his head.
Ryuto looked up too.
To the east of the battlefield, in the woods.
A figure stepped out.
Black hair, red armor, a sword hanging at his waist.
Hashirama Senju.
A dozen or so Senju ninja followed behind him.
Hashirama looked at Madara, then at Ryuto kneeling on the ground.
"Madara, killing someone who's exhausted isn't like you."
Madara withdrew his hand.
"Hashirama," Madara said. "What are you doing here?"
"The Uzumaki Clan requested aid," Hashirama said. "I brought a team to take a look."
He walked over to Ryuto and crouched down.
"Are you all right?"
Ryuto looked at him and shook his head.
He could not speak.
Hashirama stood and looked at Madara.
"This man is under my protection."
Madara laughed.
"Your protection?" Madara said. "On what grounds?"
"He protected the Uzumaki Clan members just now," Hashirama said. "I saw it clearly. Someone like that shouldn't die here."
Madara stared at Hashirama.
His Sharingan were scarlet.
Hashirama's gaze was calm.
The two stared at each other.
The air seemed to freeze.
The surrounding Senju ninja and the Uchiha ninja who had not yet retreated far all held their breath.
Madara spoke first.
"He injured my younger brother."
"Injuries are inevitable in battle," Hashirama said. "If you want revenge, wait until he recovers and fight him fair and square."
Madara fell silent.
He looked at Ryuto.
Ryuto knelt there with his head lowered, but his body remained taut.
Like a gravely wounded beast that had yet to fall.
"Fine," Madara said. "I'll do you this favor today."
He turned and walked toward the Uchiha ninja.
After two steps, he stopped.
He looked back.
His scarlet Sharingan locked onto Ryuto.
"Boy, your name is Ryuto, right?"
Ryuto looked up.
"I'll remember you," Madara said. "Next time we meet, I'll use my full strength."
"I hope you'll let me dance to my heart's content then."
With that, his figure flickered, and he vanished from the spot.
The Uchiha ninja followed him in retreat.
Soon, only the Senju and the kneeling Ryuto remained on the battlefield.
Hashirama crouched down and looked at Ryuto.
"Can you still walk?"
Ryuto nodded.
He braced his hands on his knees and tried to stand.
His legs gave way, and he dropped to his knees again.
Hashirama reached out and caught him.
"Thanks," Ryuto said, his voice terribly hoarse.
"No need to thank me," Hashirama said. "That move you used just now was impressive."
Supporting Ryuto, he walked toward the Senju team.
"Come back to camp with us first and get your wounds treated."
Ryuto did not refuse.
He really could not move anymore.
Hashirama supported him as they reached the team.
A Senju ninja came over to bandage Ryuto's wrist.
Ryuto shook his head.
"I'll do it myself."
He twisted his dislocated wrist.
Crack-
It was back in place.
The Senju ninja's eyelids twitched at the sight.
Hashirama laughed.
"Interesting."
He waved a hand.
"Back to camp."
The team turned and headed deeper into the woods.
As he was helped along, Ryuto glanced back at the battlefield.
The enormous crater was still smoking.
Amid the ruins, Mito Uzumaki and Rena stepped out from behind cover and looked at him.
Rena waved to him.
Ryuto nodded.
Then he turned and followed the Senju team, disappearing into the woods.
Before you continue