NOVEL NEXT Ch97- First Battle
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The atmosphere in the arena was electrified as the Genin names scrolled across the screens. The first matchup was announced: "Uchiha Sasuke of Team 7 vs Takeshi of Team Stone. Come to the stage, rest of you please go to the balconies." Horyu, along with Shino and Hinata, ascended the stairs to join Kurenai. Her eyes held a glimmer of pride as she whispered, "You did a good job. I'm proud of you." The other Genin teams positioned themselves near their Jonin Senseis, leaving Sasuke and Takeshi alone with Hayate on the stage.
From their vantage point, Horyu observed Sasuke, noting his confident, almost smug demeanor. 'Typical,' Horyu thought, his eyes narrowing slightly. Takeshi, from Team Stone, looked formidable, his build muscular and his stance grounded. The contrast between the two fighters was stark, yet the outcome was far from predictable.
The air in the arena crackled with anticipation as Uchiha Sasuke and Takeshi faced off, their gazes locked in a silent promise of a ferocious battle. Sasuke, young and lean with the confidence of the famed Uchiha clan, stood with a casual poise that belied his intense focus. His Sharingan, swirling with two tomoe, gleamed with a predatory intensity. Takeshi, a year older and built like a young boulder, exuded raw power, his hands ready to mold the earth to his will.
As the signal was given, the battle erupted with a burst of energy. Sasuke, swift as a shadow, darted towards Takeshi, kunai in hand, slashing through the air with precision. Takeshi, unphased, slammed his palm against the ground, sending a wave of rock surging upwards. The earth transformed into a wall, blocking Sasuke's strike. But Sasuke, agile and adaptive, leaped onto the rising wall, using it as a springboard to launch another attack from above.
Sasuke, agile as a striking serpent, launched into a barrage of kunai, each thrown with deadly precision. His Sharingan, a whirlpool of insight, predicted Takeshi's movements, allowing him to dodge and weave like a shadow in the wind. "Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu!" he shouted, unleashing a volley of fireballs that streaked towards Takeshi like comets.
Takeshi, his eyes alight with the fire of battle, countered with a roar. "Earth Style: Rock Pillar Prison!" he bellowed, slamming his fists into the ground. The earth heaved and groaned, as pillars of rock erupted, attempting to cage Sasuke in a stony grasp. But Sasuke, ever the elusive wraith, danced between the pillars, his movements a blur.
The clash of fire and earth sent shockwaves through the arena, the spectators gasping and cheering in equal measure. Takeshi, his resolve as solid as the earth he commanded, shaped the terrain at his will. "Earth Style: Mudslide Jutsu!" With a powerful gesture, he transformed the ground beneath Sasuke's feet into a treacherous mire, seeking to slow the Uchiha's lightning-fast movements.
But Sasuke, his Sharingan spinning faster, anticipated the shift. "Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!" he cried, exhaling a massive orb of flame that hardened the mud and scorched the air, creating a blistering inferno that roared towards Takeshi.
Unfazed, Takeshi stood his ground, his chakra molding the earth around him into a shield. "Earth Style: Earth Dome!" A dome of rock enveloped him, repelling the fiery assault with a resounding boom. The crowd was on their feet now, their cheers a thunderous backdrop to the titanic struggle.
As the relentless battle raged on in the make-shift preliminary arena, Sasuke, acutely aware of his dwindling chakra, shifted tactics. His Sharingan, a vortex of cunning, flickered as he initiated a Genjutsu. "Sharingan: Genjutsu!" he declared, casting an illusion that twisted the arena into a dizzying spiral around Takeshi.
Takeshi, momentarily disoriented, shook his head fiercely, struggling to break free from the illusion. "Not so fast, Uchiha!" he growled, his chakra flaring as he grounded himself, dispelling the Genjutsu with sheer willpower. "Earth Style: Boulder Barrage!" he shouted, punching the ground, sending a hail of rocks flying towards Sasuke.
Sasuke, light on his feet, weaved through the barrage, his eyes never leaving Takeshi. "Fire Style: Dragon Flame Jutsu!" he yelled, sending a serpentine stream of fire snaking towards his opponent. The fire clashed against the rocks, creating a cloud of steam and smoke, obscuring the battlefield.
Clicking his tongue, Sasuke charged, his mind racing as he calculated his next move. He was aware of his depleting chakra, the weight of each jutsu he had performed pressing on him. He needed to outsmart Takeshi, not simply overpower him. His Sharingan spun as he focused on Takeshi's movements, looking for an opening.
Takeshi, his frame bulky and his stance unyielding like the earth he commanded, was ready. He anticipated Sasuke's physical attack, his fists clenched, eyes tracking Sasuke's swift movements.
Sasuke, however, had a plan. He feinted to the left, drawing Takeshi's attention. Takeshi, reacting instinctively, swung a powerful fist in that direction, only to hit air. Sasuke had already moved, using his Sharingan to predict and dodge the strike. He was behind Takeshi now, his movements a blur of speed and cunning.
Sasuke didn't waste a moment. He knew he couldn't afford another large-scale jutsu, but he didn't need one. He opted for subtlety over strength, a trick he had learned from watching his older brother. "Clone Jutsu!" he whispered, and in a puff of smoke, four clones appeared around Takeshi.
Takeshi, suddenly surrounded, growled in frustration. He lashed out at the clones, but each dodge was a step closer to Sasuke's trap. The real Sasuke, conserving his energy, watched as Takeshi expended his, attacking the clones.
The clones, mere diversions, vanished upon being hit, but they served their purpose. Takeshi, now breathing heavily from the exertion, had lost track of the real Sasuke. That's when Sasuke made his move.
With precision honed by countless hours of training, Sasuke lunged, aiming to disable. He targeted Takeshi's legs, delivering a swift strike to a pressure point that momentarily numbed the limbs. Takeshi stumbled, his movements suddenly sluggish.
Sasuke didn't stop there. He followed up with a series of quick, targeted strikes. Takeshi, struggling to keep up, realized too late that brute strength was not enough. Sasuke's strategy of exhaustion and precision had outmaneuvered his powerful, but less refined, techniques.
As Takeshi kneeled, unable to maintain his stance, the proctor, recognizing that Takeshi could no longer continue, called the match. "Winner: Uchiha Sasuke!"
As Hayate announced the winner, Sakura's cheer erupted from the balcony, her enthusiasm for Sasuke's victory palpable. Around her, others analyzed the Uchiha's fighting style, noting his strategic approach and deft use of the Sharingan. Horyu, standing with Hinata and Shino, observed with a keen eye. 'Sasuke's good, but predictable,' he thought to himself, his gaze sharp and calculating. A confrontation with Sasuke in the third stage seemed increasingly likely, an event Horyu mentally prepared for.
The anticipation in the arena heightened as Hayate prepared to announce the next matchup. The screens flickered, revealing the names: "Uchiha Horyu of Team 8 vs Chōjūrō of Team Mist." A murmur ran through the crowd. Horyu, standing beside his teammates, locked eyes with Chōjūrō, who was across the balcony. Their gazes clashed – Chōjūrō's timid and shy, while Horyu's was piercing and confident.
With a swift, fluid motion, Horyu jumped down to the arena floor, landing gracefully on his feet. He stood to the side, his posture relaxed yet ready, waiting for Chōjūrō to join him. The Mist ninja approached the stage, his demeanor hesitant but determined. In his hands, he held a katana. Hiramekarei, his signature sword Horyu remembered from Anime, was missing.
The crowd's chatter dimmed as the two contestants faced each other. Horyu's eyes, cold and unreadable, scanned Chōjūrō. 'A swordsman... This could be interesting,' he mused silently. Chōjūrō, clutching his katana, seemed to gather his courage, his stance firming as he prepared for the confrontation.
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