Explaining swordsmanship

Seeing this, Anyo once again felt fortunate to have become Konoha White Fang's student. He had a feeling that once he mastered White Fang's swordsmanship, killing ordinary Jonin would be as easy as slaughtering chickens and dogs.

After finishing the demonstration, White Fang asked Anyo, "Do you know which squad among all the ninja villages has the greatest killing power?"

Anyo thought back for a moment, then shook his head. "Well, I don't know."

White Fang slowly uttered a few words. "Kirigakure's Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist."

"Oh, them." Anyo now remembered. He had heard that name before. When Kakashi took Team 7 on their first mission, they had encountered one of them. Kakashi had defeated him with his Sharingan, though it had not been an easy fight. Later, a member of Akatsuki had appeared who also came from their ranks and was equally powerful. So Anyo was not surprised that White Fang held them in such high regard. However, the current seven probably were not those same people.

White Fang continued, "I've studied their great swords. Their sweeping strikes have astonishing power, making them like fighting machines on the battlefield. When a sword finds a ninja suited to it, the two can unleash incredible power together. When all seven act together, even a Kage-level fighter has to give them a wide berth."

Were they that powerful?

Anyo inwardly marveled at what he heard. To be honest, in Naruto, the greatest gap in strength was the one between Jonin and Kage. It was even greater than the gap between Genin and Jonin. Many Jonin could never cross that gulf in their entire lives, yet seven Jonin working with their great swords could reach that level. That alone showed how formidable their squad was.

White Fang swung the short sword in his hand, a flash of killing intent passing over him. "I saw them fight during a mission once. At the time, I wondered how I should deal with them if I encountered them during an operation. For a long time, they were my hypothetical opponents. That was why I created this style of swordsmanship: using a short weapon against a long one and winning at close quarters. As I am now, I'm confident I could kill them the instant I closed in."

"So what this style needs most is speed beyond that of ordinary people, precise killing techniques, and the resolve to fight to the death. All three are indispensable. Without them, you'll never reach a certain level. Do you understand?"

Anyo nodded solemnly after hearing this. He understood that White Fang was truly putting his heart into teaching him, which was why he explained everything in such detail. Unfortunately, in the anime, no one had learned this style because White Fang had died too early. Anyo swore that he would devote everything to mastering it, and even surpass him to develop a style of swordsmanship uniquely his own.

White Fang took an ordinary sword from the rack and handed it to Anyo. "Start practicing. Begin with the Thirteen Forms, the most basic sword movements, and work them into your muscle memory. They are splitting, slashing, sweeping upward, chopping, flicking upward, intercepting, pushing, thrusting, sliding, stirring, snapping, tapping, and drawing."

Using a wooden post, White Fang demonstrated the fundamentals of swordsmanship to Anyo one by one. Even the simplest basic moves had an artistic beauty in his hands. Clearly, he had put a tremendous amount of hard work into them.

Once he finished demonstrating, he signaled for Anyo to begin, then turned and left without specifying how long he should practice.

Anyo gripped the sword tightly and began practicing hard without hesitation.

White Fang returned indoors and looked toward a spot in the shadows. He quickly stepped forward and said respectfully, "Third Hokage, what brings you here?"

The visitor was none other than the Third Hokage. After failing to take Anyo as his student, Orochimaru had immediately sent word to the Third through a little snake. Upon receiving the news, the Third had decided to come and take a look.

He smiled and nodded at White Fang, then looked toward Anyo, who was practicing in the training grounds. "Sakumo, I know you have a discerning eye for other people's potential. How would you judge that child's potential?"

White Fang replied without hesitation, "Limitless."

The Third was somewhat surprised to hear this, seemingly not having expected White Fang to think so highly of him. He could not help asking further, "How does he compare to you?"

"Above me."

At those words, the Third's gaze deepened a little. He took out a document and handed it to White Fang.

White Fang took it and read it, then said in surprise, "He's actually from the Uchiha Clan? Then why..."

The Third picked up where he left off. "Yes, why would he distance himself from his clan? I've been puzzled by that too, so I've checked on him from time to time over the past year. I've found that he has none of an ordinary child's innocence. Deep down, he's as good at hiding himself as an old man. Unless I'm mistaken, he already has at least the strength of a Chunin. Having such a mind at so young an age, combined with his outstanding talent, worries me somewhat."

White Fang understood that the Third must have come with instructions, so he asked directly, "What do you need me to do?"

With his expression unchanged and his voice calm, the Third said, "You don't need to do anything. I hope you can guide him well and keep him on the right path. If you ever discover signs of him straying from that path, I hope you can steel yourself and cut him off before the damage spreads."

White Fang stiffened. He understood the true meaning behind the Third's words and cupped his hands. "Yes."

The Third patted White Fang and said, "There's no need to be so tense. This is the worst-case scenario. I believe that with your abilities, you can raise an excellent student. I'm already old. The village's future rests in the hands of you young people."

After saying this, the Third took out a Hokage Half-Sleeved Robe and held it out.

White Fang's pupils suddenly contracted, and for a moment, he did not dare take it.

"Accept it," the Third said kindly. "Right now, no one in the village is more qualified to wear this than you. I believe in your abilities, and I believe that in the future, you'll do even better than I have."

"Yes."

White Fang bent down and respectfully accepted the garment with its special significance.

The sun sank in the west, and evening drew near. In White Fang's courtyard, a boy tirelessly swung the blade in his hands. By now, he no longer knew how many swings he had made-one thousand, five thousand, or ten thousand. In any case, with every swing, his body grew more exhausted, yet his eyes began to brighten. The aching pain constantly reminded him that his body had reached its limit. Each time he overcame that feeling, he could always sense progress.

Muscle memory. Anyo seemed to understand what White Fang meant. In a fight, victory or defeat might be decided in less than a second. At such a moment, tactics, thought, and ninjutsu would all be useless. Only a person's first instinctive reaction was the key to deciding the outcome. Sometimes, when danger struck, the body would dodge on its own before the mind could react. That was muscle memory.

To achieve that, grueling practice was essential. So unless White Fang appeared and told him to stop, he would not stop. He had to keep going until the very last moment, when he passed out from exhaustion...