Naruto: My Progress in Konoha.

Zzzzzzt—

A harsh screech echoed through the battlefield.

Kurisami Kushimaru suddenly thrust his long needle sword into the ground, then yanked the steel wire taut with his left hand. The threads snapped shut like a trap.

Pfft! Pfft!

Several steel wires wrapped around Uchiha Haruki's neck—seemingly cutting into his flesh—and even entangled the Mist Jōnin who had been fighting him.

But the moment the wires clamped down, a cloud of chakra smoke exploded outward—Haruki vanished, replaced by chunks of wooden logs.

It was a perfectly timed Substitution Jutsu—not a drop of blood spilled. Haruki had evaded the trap entirely.

The Mist Jōnin, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. One of the wires had severed his heart. Blood sprayed from his chest, soaking the ground in red.

His dazed eyes only cleared in death—too late to regret.

Both Mei Terumi and Ao looked grimly at the corpse.

Kushimaru and the masked Mist Anbu merely paused for a second, then resumed their assault on Haruki as if nothing had happened.

Mei and Ao sighed in frustration but were forced to coordinate with them and continue attacking.

However, after that near-disaster, they moved far more cautiously—even hesitating to take advantage of good opportunities.

This gave Haruki much more room to maneuver, and the pressure on him lessened significantly.

And so, under this tense and eerie atmosphere, the battle raged on.

Another half-hour quickly passed.

Haruki's arrival had finally started to turn the tide.

With Mei and the others occupied by him, the Konoha Jōnin they had previously overwhelmed were freed to return to the frontlines. The Eastern battlefield regained its balance.

In fact, Konoha now had a slight upper hand.

At this rate, the Mist's surprise attack was bound to fail.

But they weren't about to accept that outcome.

Roughly ten minutes later—

Several Mist Jōnin and Special Jōnin were ordered by their commanders to abandon the southern and southeastern battlefronts and converge on Haruki's position to join the assault.

Clearly, they'd identified the core issue: unless they eliminated Haruki, they could forget about breaching Konoha's forward base.

So the Mist raised the stakes once more.

At the same time, even Kurisami Kushimaru seemed to have received a warning—he dialed back his reckless behavior and finally began coordinating properly with the others.

This shift significantly increased the pressure on Haruki. Even with the aid of his Sharingan, fresh wounds soon began to pile up.

Then, a familiar voice echoed in his ear—the Yamanaka clan ninja from earlier.

"Haruki, how's your situation? Do you need support?"

Glancing around at the aggressive enemies closing in, then down at the blood trickling from his injuries, Haruki wiped the blood from his lips and replied:

"Not for now."

He wasn't being reckless. These opponents, though numerous, couldn't all strike at once.

They could only take turns or coordinate smaller assaults, increasing the frequency, not intensity, of the attacks.

With the Sharingan's perception, paired with his impressive 16 points in Constitution and 19 in Spirit, Haruki still found the pressure manageable.

More importantly, he wanted to use this battle to fully master the Kusanagi blade in his hands.

Despite having fought several battles with this longsword, his familiarity with it was only average.

Until now, he'd always used short swords.

And while the difference between swords and knives in the ninja world was blurry, the handling was still distinct.

So, Haruki had to retrain himself—to reshape his combat instincts and truly wield the longsword as an extension of his body.

Only then could he fully unlock the potential of his Swordsmanship (Lv7 – Perfect Mastery).

This prolonged, intense combat would also accelerate the growth of his Phantom Blade and Blink Blade techniques, saving him time and energy in the long run.

Weighing the pros and cons, he chose to endure alone.

The Yamanaka ninja paused for a moment before responding,

"Alright. I'll keep monitoring your condition and assist if necessary."

"Thanks."

Haruki gave a brief reply and then severed the mental link.

He swiftly formed hand seals and took a moment to activate Mystic Palm Jutsu, infusing several bursts of Yang Release chakra into his wounds.

The effect was astonishing—Mystic Palm had recently advanced to Level 8, and its healing was now exceptionally fast.

His injuries began to recover at an unprecedented rate—he'd likely be fully healed in just a few minutes.

At that point, he'd be back at full strength.

Shing!

But just as that thought crossed his mind, several shuriken flew at him from a hidden corner while another Mist ninja kept him busy in front.

He had no choice but to dodge as best he could.

Two of the shuriken grazed his face, leaving shallow cuts on his cheeks.

Drip. Drip.

Blood fell to the ground in small drops.

Feeling the burning sting, Haruki muttered to himself,

"So much for full recovery…"

The reality was, even if he healed now, fresh wounds were bound to appear before the battle ended.

So complete healing was impossible—not until the fight was over.

Still, that didn't mean the healing was pointless.

Left untreated, even minor wounds could accumulate and slow him down—or worse, become the final straw.

So whenever he had the chance to use Mystic Palm, Haruki made sure to seize it.

Thanks to this ability, he had managed to hold the line.

Not only had he resisted what was essentially a rotating death squad, he had even turned the tide by injuring two Mist Jōnin through risky counterattacks.

Time continued to tick by.

Gradually, the Mist ninja surrounding him began to sense that something was off.

Haruki… was getting stronger.

Especially his swordsmanship—it was sharpening by the minute.

At first, they'd thought his sword skills were impressive but manageable, and they couldn't understand why he was called "Ghost Blade."

Now, however, they finally understood.

Haruki was like a phantom—moving unpredictably, vanishing and reappearing in an instant.

The Kusanagi sword in his hands was like a venomous serpent, each strike carrying a lethal chill.

If it weren't for their superior numbers and mutual support, at least one of them would've died already.

Even so, several of them had already been wounded by that cursed blade.

They hadn't died—but their combat effectiveness had taken a significant hit.

Bit by bit, those small injuries added up—and now, the pressure on Haruki was far less than it had been at the start.