Watching Hinata gradually gain self-confidence, Moyu felt her movements sharpen with new clarity. The rhythm of her strikes had become cleaner, the speed more controlled, the precision almost beautiful. Once hesitant and cautious, she now read her opponent's flaws at a glance and responded with direct, decisive counters. Each motion carried intent, her fists no longer wavering but driven by purpose.
Moyu observed quietly. The timid girl who once trembled now carried the outline of a true fighter. A faint trace of satisfaction flickered in his eyes.
"The little girl from the Hyūga clan," he said, his tone calm but firm, "is more talented than Neji. You have potential far beyond what you realize. Use it fully." His gaze hardened. "Don't let yourself fall behind because of hesitation. You have no reason to fear failure you have no need to compare yourself. Those with less talent than you dare to be confident. Why should you, with your gifts, lack the courage to believe in yourself?"
The weight of his words struck deeper than she expected. Hyūga Hinata stood frozen for a breath, feeling her chest tighten, then ease. For the first time, she understood what true confidence meant not arrogance, not pride, but the quiet certainty that strength could be earned. What once felt like a void within her now grounded into something solid, something real.
A rare smile touched her lips. The tension in her shoulders dissolved. Then, with renewed focus, she began training again, faster and fiercer than before. Her movements, though rough at times, brimmed with energy. Moyu watched her push herself relentlessly, a faint warmth flashing behind his calm eyes.
"As for Uchiha Sasuke," he said, turning away, "it's time you learned Fire Style."
He shifted his gaze to Naruto. "And you, Uzumaki Naruto stay with Hinata. Train alongside her. Keep refining your taijutsu until you find the hidden strength inside you."
Naruto grinned wide, his usual fire reignited. "Don't worry, Sensei! Leave it to me! I'll show you results that'll make you proud!"
Moyu gave a quiet nod. Confidence like that was worth cultivating it was the first spark every warrior needed. In his eyes, every student was a mirror of his own progress; their growth reflected the weight of his instruction.
Then he turned to Sasuke. "Follow me."
They moved toward the rear mountain, a quiet training field surrounded by low thickets. It was the perfect place for what came next. Fire techniques demanded open space, and Moyu already intended to use the brushwood ahead for live demonstration.
"The first lesson," he said as they stopped before the clearing, "is the seal sequence. You must learn the shape before the flame. The Uchiha are born with an affinity for fire; their chakra burns hotter than most. Master this, and the rest will come naturally."
Sasuke's expression hardened, his eyes steady. Moyu demonstrated each seal once, his movements fluid, deliberate. The boy mimicked the pattern, first with hesitation, then with rhythm, until the hand signs formed without pause.
"Good. Now focus your chakra." Moyu's tone deepened, each word deliberate. "Condense it in your throat, not your lungs. Feel the friction, the heat pressing upward. When it peaks, exhale with full control. Let the fire move through you, not against you."
Sasuke nodded, eyes fixed, chakra flaring faintly in his chest. Sparks rippled through the air as heat gathered at his lips, the smell of burning grass mixing with the rising tension. Moyu stepped back, watching carefully.
Everything he taught was concise, precise, and utterly practical no wasted breath, no empty encouragement. Every instruction carried purpose, every sentence, a result.
His teaching was pure essence nothing but dry goods.