"The shinobi world has always been this way."
White Fang didn't quite understand why Uchiha Kin harbored such disdain for this system.
The class structure of the shinobi world had only changed once—when shinobi emerged.
If not for the Land of Iron,
samurai would have been relegated entirely to history.
"In the past and present, it has been this way."
"But the future may not be."
White Fang looked at Kin, whose eyes seemed to gaze right through him—past him, past the bystanders, past the buildings, as if fixed on something far, far away.
The Uchiha clan was truly fearsome.
They always produced individuals like this.
"Let's go. It seems lively up ahead."
White Fang turned his attention forward, where a crowd had gathered, their cheers and shouts ringing out.
In the distance, a dueling platform came into view.
Kin was long accustomed to White Fang's sightseeing attitude.
The two of them approached to watch.
Both White Fang and Kin carried swords, so they didn't stand out among the samurai.
On the platform ahead, two burly men clad in armor were locked in a fierce duel, their long blades clashing relentlessly as their figures darted back and forth.
Kin pricked up his ears, listening to the murmurs of the crowd.
"Iguchi's challenging again."
"He won't win this time. Tada's a renowned swordmaster."
"Iguchi's made some breakthroughs, though."
From the chatter, Kin pieced together the Arena's purpose.
Anyone who could hold the Arena undefeated for a year would earn the right to become the daimyo's personal guard.
In the Land of Iron, serving as the daimyo's guard was a great honor—a symbol of prestige.
If one remained undefeated for so long that no one dared to challenge them,
they would even earn the right to challenge the Land of Iron's General.
Victory could propel them straight up the social ladder.
Though the title of General wasn't hereditary like nobility, it held higher status than aristocracy—second only to the daimyo.
"This system is… interesting."
For the first time, Kin had something positive to say about the Land of Iron.
The capable rose; the weak fell.
Such a thing was unthinkable in Konoha.
The Land of Iron's General was equivalent to Konoha's Kage. That strength alone determined the position spoke volumes about the daimyo's control over the country.
In Konoha, while the daimyo nominally had the authority to appoint the Hokage, the village ultimately chose its own leader.
The selection process, however, was… complicated.
If not for Konoha's abundance of talent, the village would have collapsed long ago.
Here, Kin couldn't help but curse Sarutobi Hiruzen, that old bastard.
White Fang stroked his chin as he watched the Arena, then turned to Kin.
"Interested in testing the samurai's strength?"
He wanted to correct Kin's dismissive attitude toward the Land of Iron's warriors.
Many samurai here were formidable—
not only wielding chakra but even mastering nature transformations,
though those were typically shinobi techniques.
"Strength, huh?"
Kin rubbed his chin, hesitating. His ninjutsu had progressed remarkably, but his taijutsu had stagnated.
The main reason was the Demonic Cultivation Art he'd deduced—its difficulty was absurd, and he still hadn't mastered the basics.
Just thinking about it made his head throb.
Why did other people's "golden fingers" come with instant power-ups,
while his forced him to start from scratch?
Worse, the sheer complexity of his creation had slowed his progress.
It was downright unfair.
At his current rate,
it'd take at least half a year just to grasp the fundamentals—
and that was only because he understood the Demonic Cultivation Art inside out.
Nth day missing the convenience of a cheat system.
As for the swordplay before him—blade techniques and taijutsu were intertwined.
Kin was curious about his own prowess in both.
But then—
He shot White Fang a glare and snorted.
"Didn't you say we couldn't engage in fights or reveal our shinobi abilities during the mission?"
"Did I say that?"
White Fang scratched his head, feigning ignorance.
"You literally said that!! You bastard!!"
Kin drew his sword and pressed it against White Fang's neck.
"I ought to kill you right now!!"
"Calm down, calm down."
White Fang pinched the blade between his thumb and forefinger, his sheer physical strength rendering Kin unable to move it an inch.
And this was pure bodily power—no chakra enhancement.
Such was the might of the third layer of the Foundation Internal Art.
Even teetering on the edge of mastery, White Fang's physique surpassed most.
"Let go if you're so tough!" Kin gritted his teeth. Why was White Fang such an infuriating jerk?
Even Jiraiya the pervert was better than this.
"Could you two not cause a scene?"
A nearby samurai finally spoke up. The crowd had stopped watching the Arena, their attention now fixed on the duo.
White Fang released the blade, and Kin reluctantly sheathed his sword.
Damn you, White Fang!!
By now, the Arena battle had concluded.
The samurai named Tada emerged victorious, his gaze settling on Kin and White Fang with a frown.
"Young man, that's no way to treat a comrade with your sword."
Kin glanced at him sidelong.
"What I do is none of your concern."
Who did this guy think he was, meddling in Uchiha Kin's affairs?
Tada's frown deepened, but before he could retort, White Fang cut in.
"He wants to challenge you!"
Whoosh.
Kin's glare could have burned a hole through White Fang. This guy was determined to make trouble.
"Very well, young man. I accept your challenge."
Tada agreed without hesitation. Though his opponent was young, he needed to be taught a lesson.
Kin scoffed but stepped onto the Arena.
"Kin! Do your best!"
White Fang cheered from below.
This is all YOUR fault!! You bastard!!
Kin took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Being on a mission with this guy might kill him faster than any enemy.
His cold eyes locked onto the so-called swordmaster before him.
White Fang's antics had left him seething—Tada's timing couldn't be worse.
As for the Land of Iron's strength?
Kin could only laugh.
His Kusanagi Sword slid from its sheath.
"Come at me, boy."
Tada stood ready, giving Kin the first move.
"I think you should go first. If I strike, you won't get a chance."
Even with his neglected taijutsu training, Kin doubted this samurai could match him.
"Arrogant!" the spectators roared in outrage.
"That's a swordmaster, brat!"
"Teach this cocky kid a lesson, Tada!"
In the Land of Iron, the title of swordmaster carried great weight.
For a mere child to dismiss one so casually—
they eagerly awaited Tada's reprimand.
Tada's expression darkened. "I had intended to offer you guidance."
"It seems unnecessary."
In an instant, he closed the distance, his blade descending with crushing force.
Kin sidestepped casually, passing by him.
Tada remained frozen mid-swing.
His sword never fell.
Instead, he collapsed to his knees.
A hand touched his chest—his armor had been cleanly sliced open.
"Such… a swift blade."
Kin stood atop the Arena, his cold gaze sweeping over the crowd.
"The samurai of the Land of Iron… are nothing special."
...
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(End of Chapter)