Uchiha orphan, so what if I'm ruthless?

The atmosphere inside the Hokage's office grew heavy.

Sarutobi Hiruzen furrowed his brow tightly, tapping his fingers twice on the desk with a dull thud.

"Do you still believe in those prophecies?"

Jiraiya let out a hearty laugh at the question, his smile carrying a sense of carefree certainty.

"The Great Toad Sage's prophecies are never wrong."

He turned and walked to the window, looking out at the streets of Konoha, his voice turning serious.

"The Great Toad Sage told me this time that he dreamed of a special pair of eyes, incredibly pure. He also dreamed of blood and fire spreading across the ninja world. It was a disaster, but after the disaster came rebirth."

Jiraiya looked back at Sarutobi Hiruzen.

"Old man, I'm not asking you to do anything. I just want you to know about this. It's always good to be a little more vigilant."

Sarutobi Hiruzen did not reply immediately.

He sat there, his fingers ceasing their tapping. His gaze fell on the desk as if he were deep in thought.

Those pure eyes... the first thing that popped into his mind was the Mangekyo Sharingan.

Even though the Mangekyo Sharingan had nothing to do with purity, he inexplicably felt a connection.

Because he had once heard his teacher, the Second Hokage Senju Tobirama, say that the Uchiha clan was an incredibly emotional clan, but equally, they were the clan that valued love the most.

The Mangekyo Sharingan was never a pure thing. Behind those eyes lay pain, loss, and unforgettable emotions.

Uchiha Madara was like this, Uchiha Obito was like this, and Uchiha Taiga... would be no exception.

"I understand."

Sarutobi Hiruzen finally spoke, his voice steady and devoid of much emotional fluctuation.

After all, it was just a prophecy. He didn't dwell on the matter and instead changed the subject.

"I called you back this time because I hope you can stay in the village a little longer."

Jiraiya thought for a moment and sighed softly. "Alright. I want to go see that kid, Naruto, first."

Sarutobi Hiruzen nodded without refusing; Jiraiya had the right to do so.

"That child is currently being watched over by elite ANBU operatives, so he won't be in any danger. However..."

He paused, a hint of exhaustion creeping into his voice.

"Because of the incident with Uchiha Obito, my official debriefing has been delayed. The Daimyo cannot wait much longer, so I must head over as soon as possible. During this time, I need you to shoulder the responsibility of the village."

Jiraiya's expression instantly slumped.

"Spare me, please."

He waved his hands, his face full of reluctance.

"I'll stay in the village for a few days at most, and I'll leave as soon as you get back. You know me, I'm not suited for sitting in an office. I prefer traveling outside, looking for material..."

He said the word "material" very softly, as if afraid the old man would hear him.

Sarutobi Hiruzen scoffed, his voice laced with dissatisfaction.

"You and Tsunade, neither of you gives me any peace of mind. If you were willing to take on the responsibility, why would an old man like me need to shoulder the duties of Hokage again?"

Feeling a bit guilty from the scolding, Jiraiya rubbed his nose, muttered something under his breath, and then suddenly looked up.

"Isn't Orochimaru still around?"

Sarutobi Hiruzen's expression froze.

He remained silent for a moment before sighing softly and shaking his head.

"That guy Orochimaru has been getting very close to Danzo lately. I can no longer see through him, and he isn't suited to be Hokage either."

Jiraiya's eyes dimmed.

Orochimaru.

That was his former teammate, his former friend.

But it was indeed just as the old man said; he too was finding it increasingly difficult to understand that man. Some things seemed to have changed ever since the war ended.

Jiraiya shook his head, tossing those thoughts from his mind. Then, as if afraid the heat would turn back on him, he suddenly pointed at the crystal ball on the desk.

"Look, it seems they're about to decide a winner."

Sarutobi Hiruzen's gaze was drawn over.

Inside the crystal ball, the scene at the edge of the Forest of Death was clearly displayed.

Flashes of blades flickered.

The figures of Uchiha Taiga and Hatake Kakashi crossed paths in the clearing, their speed so fast they were reduced to mere afterimages.

At the edge of the Forest of Death.

The clearing was located at the entrance to the Forest of Death. The ground was hard yellow earth, surrounded by towering trees whose canopies blotted out the sky, slicing the sunlight into fragmented spots that scattered across the ground.

Going back a few minutes, Uchiha Taiga and Hatake Kakashi stood several meters apart.

Hatake Kakashi's hand was already gripping the hilt of the sword on his back.

He didn't rush to draw the blade, instead taking a deep breath as if adjusting his state of mind.

It had been too long since he last used this sword, so long that the feeling of gripping it felt somewhat foreign.

But he quickly found that familiar feeling again.

The sound of the blade leaving its sheath was very light, very crisp.

It was a short sword, its blade a third shorter than a standard ninja sword. The edge was incredibly thin, almost transparent in the sunlight.

The hilt was wrapped in black cord that had been worn somewhat white—the marks left behind by Hatake Sakumo.

Uchiha Taiga looked at the sword in his hand and nodded.

Then, he drew his own ninja sword, the gift given to him by Uchiha Fugaku.

The blade was long and slender, slightly curved, its edge gleaming with a cold light.

He didn't use the one left behind by Uchiha Obito. The two swords had different styles, and since he wanted to see Hatake Kakashi's swordsmanship, using the blade he was most familiar with was the most appropriate choice.

"Come."

The moment Uchiha Taiga's voice fell, Hatake Kakashi moved.

His speed was astonishing. Without the enhancement of Lightning Style chakra, it was purely explosive physical power. The short sword seemed to come alive in his hand, slashing diagonally upward from below, aiming straight for Uchiha Taiga's throat.

There was nothing flashy about this strike. It was clean and efficient, yet ruthless to the extreme. It didn't even stir up the slightest breeze; its silent nature made it all the more terrifying.

Uchiha Taiga's eyes lit up slightly.

He stepped sideways to evade, simultaneously sweeping his ninja sword horizontally, targeting Hatake Kakashi's waist.

Hatake Kakashi forcefully twisted his body a half-circle in midair, bringing his short sword back to defend. With a sharp clang, the two blades clashed.

Sparks flew in all directions.

Hatake Kakashi's wrist sank slightly, the immense force transmitted through the blade startling him.

'What incredible strength. It's not enhanced by chakra; it's pure physical power.'

He quickly retreated, opening up the distance.

Uchiha Taiga didn't give him a chance to catch his breath. With a flash of lightning beneath his feet, he closed the gap in an instant.

His ninja sword chopped downward with heavy, overwhelming momentum, carrying a howling gust of wind.

Hatake Kakashi dodged to the side. The blade grazed past his shoulder, slicing off a lock of white hair. He retaliated with a backhanded thrust, aiming straight for Uchiha Taiga's heart.

Uchiha Taiga pulled his sword back to block. With a clang, Hatake Kakashi's short sword was deflected. But Kakashi didn't stop. The moment he was deflected, he flicked his wrist, changing the short sword's trajectory to thrust again from a different angle.

The angle of this strike was tricky, and its speed was astonishing.

The corners of Uchiha Taiga's mouth curled up slightly. He leaned back just a fraction, letting the blade glide right past the tip of his nose.

At the same time, he swept his ninja sword outward, forcing Kakashi to retreat once more.

The two opened up the distance again, only to clash together in the very next moment.

In the span of just a few breaths, they had already exchanged over a dozen blows.

Uchiha Taiga's swordsmanship style was not bound by convention. His foundation was Uchiha Style Kenjutsu, but he had incorporated his own understanding into it.

In his eyes, kenjutsu was simply a means to kill the enemy—nothing more than a combination of speed and power. As long as it could kill, it was enough.

Every one of his strikes was concise, devoid of any wasted movement, yet each carried the weight of a thousand pounds.

That power wasn't granted by chakra, but by his own physical constitution, combined with the Senju clan's monstrous strength techniques. Paired with the swiftness of the Lightning Style Chakra Mode, his swordsmanship was like a violent storm—once it started, it wouldn't stop.

Hatake Kakashi's swordsmanship, on the other hand, was an entirely different style.

Cold and ruthless, every strike was a killing blow.

The Hatake clan's swordsmanship never cared for flashiness or specific schools of style; it likewise focused on only one thing: killing.

Every slash aimed for vitals, leaving no room for mercy, not even leaving a route of retreat for himself.

That point-of-no-return momentum made Uchiha Taiga feel a long-lost sense of excitement.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Three consecutive clashes of blades sent flashes of light and sparks flying everywhere.

Hatake Kakashi's offensive grew increasingly fierce. The short sword in his hand was like a streak of silver lightning, constantly shifting angles and changing rhythms.

He didn't need the Sharingan to predict movements; swordsmanship was already carved into his instincts.

But Uchiha Taiga was stronger.

His strength was too great, so great that every collision left Kakashi's wrist numb. His speed was too fast, so fast that Kakashi could only rely on instinct to respond.

His blade work was too concise, so concise that there were absolutely no openings to exploit.

Another horizontal sweep.

Hatake Kakashi raised his sword to block, but the impact forced him three steps back, the soles of his shoes carving deep grooves into the ground.

His breathing grew ragged.

Uchiha Taiga stood in place, his ninja sword pointing diagonally at the ground.

'This battle is exhilarating!'

'My body is finally warming up.'