Uchiha Shien vs. Maki!
Anyone with half a brain would assume that the Sand's genius, Maki, was the stronger one.
And honestly, a few months ago, Shien would've agreed.
Back then, all his combat strength relied on his summoned beast. Forget Maki—he couldn't even guarantee victory against Maki's teammate, Jun.
But things had changed.
Since graduation, Shien had been through too much. Especially after clinging to his "white thigh"—his power had skyrocketed like a rocket in full burn.
Now, if he went all out, he could even fight evenly against a jonin. Compared to a few months ago, he was on an entirely different level.
Through all this, Shien had come to one firm conclusion—
Money is power.
With money, he could craft the best gear to boost his strength, and he could use Clarity Draughts to speed-learn any knowledge he lacked—a literal learning cheat.
And those draughts? Not cheap at all. In fact, they were his biggest expense.
That's why he couldn't afford to lose today.
He didn't just have to win—he had to win fast.
If he wanted to go for the championship later, he had to save stamina and chakra. Winning the title meant a mountain of prize money—and the fame to protect his growing list of "special tools."
He'd shown off too many good things already. Without enough prestige, others might simply take them.
On the field—
At Pakura's signal to begin, Maki didn't immediately attack. Instead, he stared at Shien and spoke slowly:
"That intel dossier on you—it's fake, isn't it?"
He'd once trusted every word written there.
Now, he didn't believe a single line.
Well, except the parts not about Konoha. Those, maybe.
"Does it even matter now?" Shien replied coolly.
Exactly. Whether the intel was fake or not didn't change anything now. The only thing that mattered was who'd be left standing.
With that brief exchange, both moved at once.
Maki's fingers blurred in a rapid sequence of seals—he specialized in Wind Release.
Shien lunged forward, fire flaring in his palm.
Golden Crow Fluid Art – Dark Sweep!
The condensed flame shot forward like molten fire, sliding low along the ground as though alive.
Shien stepped into the blaze, running right behind it.
With his new ninja tool, the Blazing Fist, using the Golden Crow techniques cost less chakra, cast faster, and flowed far more smoothly.
**Fast—**that was the defining feature of this no-handseal technique.
Maki was completely caught off guard.
The intel said Shien wasn't a close-combat type—that he always preferred distance fighting when possible. His tactics were built around that assumption.
But now, Shien was already in his face.
He wasn't some alien cheat who could dominate at close range—but he didn't need to dominate. He just needed to win.
The flame ball detonated before Maki with a BOOM, fire surging outward in a roaring wave.
From the blazing curtain, a figure shot out—
Wild Bite!
Shien's right fist, wrapped in fire, smashed forward.
A ninjutsu specialist fighting like a brawler—it completely broke all expectations.
Ninja-Tai Hybrid Combat. A style that lets you do whatever you want.
And the key? Maki's carefully built battle plan just went up in flames.
"Wind Release: Sickle Weasel!"
Maki's hands finished the seals at lightning speed—far faster than Shien expected.
A storm of slicing wind blades slashed toward him.
So that was it—his previous "slow" seals were bait. He'd been hiding his true speed all along.
Dozens of wind blades filled the air, each sharp enough to shred flesh to ribbons.
A ninja's body could handle blunt trauma, but blades? No such luck.
Yet just before the blades hit—
POOF!
Shien's figure vanished, dissipating into smoke.
Body Flicker Technique.
He reappeared more than ten meters away, breathing hard.
"So your seal speed before was a trap, huh?"
He smirked, though his back was damp with sweat.
Had he moved even a fraction slower, those wind blades would've diced him up.
As expected of Sunagakure's future elite—Maki wasn't just strong; he was cunning.
And he had two extra years of training under his belt.
Anyone with a name in the future—even minor ones—should never be underestimated.
Shien began forming seals again.
If surprise attacks wouldn't cut it, then he'd just go for overwhelming power.
Fire Style: Flame Cloak!
Scarlet energy surged around him, wrapping him in a thin, flickering veil of fire.
The heat was so intense it warped the air itself, and the color of the flames deepened—hotter, denser, more deadly than ever before.
Even the spectators could feel the rise in temperature.
"As expected… with that ninja tool, the power of this jutsu rivals an A-rank!"
Namikaze Minato's blue eyes glimmered with thought.
He couldn't help admiring his student's creativity—and his funding. To think someone actually combined ninja tools and ninjutsu so seamlessly.
"See that, Mikoto? I was the one who forged that tool!"
Uzumaki Kushina puffed out her chest proudly from the Konoha stands.
Up on the main platform, the Third Hokage—Sarutobi Hiruzen—watched through his Telescope Technique, eyes narrowing.
He already knew about the "Flame Cloak," but with the addition of that tool, the power had increased far beyond his expectations.
And he wasn't the only one surprised.
All across the stands, whispers rippled through the crowd.
Meanwhile, the star of the show himself had no time to think.
WHOOSH!
He shot forward like a cannonball.
And all he could feel—was pain.
The stronger the flame, the greater the heat he had to endure. Even with protective chakra, the burning agony was real.
It felt like his entire body was submerged in boiling water. A few seconds too long, and he might literally cook himself alive.
But to wield power beyond your limits—this was the price.
Across the arena, seeing the inferno rushing toward him, Maki's expression hardened.
He bit down and unleashed his trump card.
"Wind Release: Great Sickle Weasel!"
The advanced version of his earlier jutsu—classified as B-rank.
BOOM!
Air split apart, earth tore open, and the roar of chakra filled the arena.
The audience gasped at the sheer scale of it.
"He's done it!"
A twin-tailed blonde girl leapt to her feet, cheering.
But before she could bask in her joy—her smile froze.
"Wha—what… how?!"
Her eyes widened in disbelief.
On the field—
Shien, engulfed in blazing fire, stood tall. His right hand, bleeding heavily, was clamped around Maki's neck—lifting him off the ground.
"Kintsuki…"
If he channeled his flames into Maki's body now and detonated them, the Sand ninja would be completely annihilated.
Maki didn't have a substitute doll to fake his death this time.
But before Shien could release the killing blow—
SLAP!
A hand seized his wrist.
Two new figures had appeared at his side.
"Kid, the Sand surrenders this match."
The cold, unwilling voice of Pakura—the Scorch Release user.
Shien's eyes flicked to the side and he slowly released Maki's throat.
He wasn't worried about being attacked—because another figure had materialized beside him as well, a kunai pressed precisely to Pakura's chest.
Namikaze Minato.
Even without using the Flying Thunder God Technique, his sheer speed outclassed hers.
If Pakura tried anything, her heart would be pierced instantly.
It was thanks to Minato that Shien wasn't ambushed in that moment of distraction.
The Flame Cloak faded quickly.
The Sand had surrendered—there was no need to continue.
Pakura released his wrist, and Minato sheathed his kunai.
In an instant, the tension in the arena melted away— as if that deadly standoff had never happened at all.
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