The morning sun blazed overhead, transforming the forest clearing into a stage bathed in golden light. The atmosphere was thick, charged not just with the promise of conflict, but with the weight of destiny.
Genin Sasuke Uchiha versus Jonin Kakashi Hatake! The impossible match had begun, the stakes clear: a win meant Sasuke earned the right to abandon his team and pursue his singular, destructive path.
The spectators reacted according to their nature. Naruto remained fixed on the ground, his face a contorted mask of furious denial.
Sakura cautiously approached him. "Naruto," she began, her voice tight with anxiety, "if Sasuke actually manages to defeat Kakashi-sensei..."
"Impossible!" Naruto roared, cutting her off, his confidence rooted only in the recent memory of the bell test where Kakashi had toyed with them. "He couldn't even touch sensei last time!" Sakura felt a temporary relief but glanced towards the smiling Shen Mo, the merchant whose existence invalidated all prior logic, and her apprehension returned.
"Begin," the aged voice of the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, commanded.
Sasuke and Kakashi executed the traditional opposition seal.
Kakashi, the veteran of countless skirmishes, wasted no time. He had already calculated his initial move to capitalize on the moment. As he looked up, a blinding flash pierced Sasuke's eyes—the sun reflecting off the metal of Kakashi's forehead protector, momentarily crippling the Uchiha's sight.
In the same fraction of a second, Kakashi launched three kunai, scattering them strategically to cut off every natural escape route Sasuke might take. Before the kunai finished their arcs, Kakashi had vanished, leveraging 70% to 80% of his full Jonin speed to ensure a swift, decisive end to the spar. He appeared instantly behind Sasuke, his own weapon—a fourth kunai—whipping forward toward the base of Sasuke's neck.
Under normal circumstances, for the Sasuke of yesterday, the battle would already be concluded.
But reality shattered the expectation.
CLANG! CLANG! KSHING!
An explosion of violently clashing metal erupted. The elegant long sword in Sasuke's hand moved with supernatural speed and precision. In a blur, it deflected the three incoming kunai, and then, twisting at an impossibly difficult angle, the blade intercepted and blocked Kakashi's surprise thrust, sending a shower of sparks into the air.
At the point of impact, the single visible eye outside Kakashi's mask widened in genuine astonishment.
"This level of power...!" Kakashi mentally gasped. The sheer force behind Sasuke's defense, though not entirely overpowering, was easily on par with his own Jonin-level strike! He has reached Jonin-level proficiency overnight! What impossible power source could account for this cataclysmic leap in skill?
Kakashi was not the only one shocked.
Sarutobi Hiruzen, the man who had seen generations of ninja prodigies, inhaled sharply, the smoke from his pipe momentarily forgotten. He squinted at the youth in the arena. "His physical power has increased to this degree...?"
"Kakashi-sensei," Sasuke exclaimed, a visible, almost uncontrolled smirk of triumph pulling at his lips. He was thrilled by the shock he had created. "I have warned you repeatedly: I am no longer the boy I was yesterday!"
With the final word, Sasuke utilized the momentum of the clash, easily neutralizing Kakashi's superior strength and springing backward.
Then, the counterattack.
Sasuke burst forward, accelerating to blinding speed. The long sword became a shimmering, ethereal extension of his will—thrusting, parrying, picking, and slashing with a sophisticated mastery that belied his age. His speed, his endurance, and his strength were now undeniably a match for Kakashi's suppressed level.
The fighting area expanded wildly as the two figures became a whirlwind of motion and steel. The ringing sound of their constant clashes was relentless.
It's still just a Genin!
"Just how many of those jars did the Uchiha brat empty?" Even Tsunade, the legendary Sannin, murmured in surprise. While Sasuke's current strength was nowhere near her own, considering his raw age and the speed of his development, he was a prodigy who defied logic.
"It is not solely a matter of quantity," Shen Mo stated, seizing the perfect marketing moment and raising his voice slightly to ensure the Hokage heard. "It is the type of jar. The series Sasuke pursued was meticulously tailored for combat and destruction. Unlike the medicinal and revitalization jars you purchased, Tsunade, the power increase is naturally far more exponential."
"A series?" Tsunade focused on the duel again. "By his movements, the series must relate entirely to the sword." Sasuke's mysterious Kendo was evident; all his physical abilities were now perfectly subservient to the exquisite, murderous skill of his blade. He hadn't resorted to Ninjutsu or even basic kunai.
Sarutobi Hiruzen digested the information, his face grave. Sword series...
The true shock for the Hokage wasn't the raw strength, but the experience. Sasuke wasn't fighting like a novice given a strength buff; he was fighting like a master swordsman with over a decade of dedicated, high-level practice. The fluidity of his defense, the economy of his movements—it was pure, ingrained combat experience.
Strength, technique, and even experience—all are acquired instantly through these jars. The implications were devastating to the very foundation of the ninja training philosophy, the ethos of discipline and hard work that Hiruzen had upheld his entire life. The sight of Sasuke's effortless, overnight ascent felt like a direct, personal challenge to the Third Hokage.
Naruto, witnessing the impossible stalemate, clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. He scrambled to his feet. "Kakashi-sensei! What are you doing?! Defeat him now!"
Naruto was not merely worried; his core competitive spirit was in agony. The boy who was easily defeated and lectured on the necessity of teamwork was now, effectively, an equal to their elite instructor?
Kakashi, hearing Naruto's desperate plea, maintained his focus. He saw an opening, briefly lifted his foot, and snapped it out in a sharp, blinding kick.
Konoha Ryū: Kage Buyō (Shadow Dance Leaf)!
The attack was a blur of Taijutsu designed to launch the opponent into the air for a subsequent finishing attack.
However, Sasuke parried the deadly kick with a narrow, precise block from his sword, the impact forcing him backward across the clearing.
He didn't stumble. He landed lightly, his eyes alight with victorious frenzy. He wasn't rushing the attack; he was savoring the moment. He lowered his sword into a relaxed, one-handed grip, then covered his forehead with his other hand, letting out a laugh that was dangerously close to hysteria.
"Haha, Naruto, don't you see? I will not lose to Kakashi again! No! Victory in this duel is mine!"
The surge of power, the razor-sharp reaction speed, the perfect sword skills etched into his soul—it was an intoxicating, dream-like state. His confidence was absolute. And the fact that he was achieving this against Kakashi, the man who had humiliated him only weeks ago, was the ultimate psychological fuel.
I have the finishing move ready. If I use it now, the fight ends. With this power, my vengeance is assured. Wait for me, Uchiha Itachi!
Shen Mo watched the spectacle unfold, his lips curling with subtle disappointment.
Kakashi hasn't even used Ninjutsu yet, Shen Mo observed silently. The Jonin was still relying entirely on speed, Kunai, and basic Taijutsu. While Sasuke's current display was astonishing—easily on par with an average Jonin—it was far from a challenge to an elite Jonin with the full arsenal of the Sharingan and S-rank techniques.
But is Kakashi truly just an average Jonin? Shen Mo wondered, knowing the reputation of the Copy Ninja. Or is he holding back his true, terrifying strength?