Sasuke and Naruto both understood why Moyu had chosen to let them face these bandits alone. He wanted them to experience the razor's edge between life and death—the kind of pressure that could awaken hidden strength.
Moyu knew this truth well. Growth never came in safety, and the two boys quickly realized his intent. Without hesitation, they stepped forward to confront the gang of thugs standing before them.
Seeing two children advancing, the criminals sneered with open contempt.
"So, the man over there wants to sacrifice his little friends to the gods, huh? Then we won't refuse such a gift. Kill them!" one of them barked, drawing his blade.
Sasuke's eyes narrowed coldly. The arrogance and cruelty twisting their faces filled him with disgust. "You think you can kill me?" he muttered, his tone sharp with Uchiha pride.
He leapt forward, shuriken flashing between his fingers. A few swift movements—clean, precise, deadly—and several of the men collapsed before they even realized what had happened. The steel glinted in the sun, then stilled.
As expected of a genius from the Uchiha clan, Sasuke fought with calm precision and frightening efficiency.
Naruto, however, struggled. His punches lacked control, his kicks were wide, and every strike was countered brutally. Within moments, he was being pounded into the dirt.
Watching this, Moyu's gaze softened slightly, though his tone remained stern. "Naruto," he called out, "your taijutsu is still too weak. You have the heart, but not the balance. Strength without control is wasted. From now on, you'll train your body harder. I'll handle your technique."
Beside him, Sasuke glanced over briefly. Even in his own arrogance, he recognized where he still fell short. Moyu noticed and nodded. "You too, Sasuke. Your precision is good, but your ninjutsu lacks depth. I'll teach you advanced techniques—when you're ready."
The thugs hesitated, shaken by what they saw. Two children—barely out of the Academy—fighting like trained shinobi. One already cutting them down, the other refusing to yield.
"Konoha really is the head of the Five Great Villages," one of them muttered, face paling. "Even their brats are monsters."
Fear crept in. Their formation broke, and the instinct to survive took hold. They turned to flee.
"Run?" Moyu's voice was quiet, but the chill in it froze them midstep. "You think you can do evil and walk away unpunished?"
He stepped forward, the air around him shifting. His chakra flared violently, carrying a suffocating killing intent. The aura pressed down on the gang like a physical weight. Knees buckled. Breathing grew ragged. Even the bravest among them trembled uncontrollably.
Moyu's expression darkened. "This is my first mission," he said softly, "and I don't intend to fail."
His aura sharpened, dense and heavy like iron. Then he moved.
He kicked at the massive wooden gate in front of him, chakra bursting from his leg. With a resounding crack, the gate—three times his size—shattered into splinters and flew across the courtyard.
The thugs gaped in horror.
"These two children are already strong enough," Moyu said evenly. "You've seen what they can do. But me? I'm the one you won't live to tell about."
He vanished in a blur of motion. Alongside him, Sasuke darted in, lightning-fast, and Naruto—despite his exhaustion—followed, teeth clenched, refusing to fall behind.
The battle was one-sided. The gangsters were utterly overwhelmed. They couldn't even counter before being struck down one after another.
When the last of them collapsed, silence filled the clearing. The only sound was the rustle of wind through the broken gate.
Moyu straightened, brushing dust from his sleeve, eyes calm again. "That's one mountain down," he said quietly. "But there are still four left to conquer."
He looked toward the distant hills ahead, the faint outline of their next destination flickering beneath the fading sun.
And though sweat still clung to their faces, both Naruto and Sasuke stood taller—shaken, bruised, but burning with something new inside them.
Potential.
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