NARUTO: The Saga of Crimson Monarch

The sun had set hours ago, leaving the world cast in a blanket of cold, unforgiving darkness. Hagoromo and Hamura returned to their home, the weight of the day's events pressing on them like an unseen hand. The air around them felt thicker, as if the very earth was holding its breath. They hadn't spoken much on the way back—what words could capture what they had just endured? What could be said when the very essence of their existence had been shaken to its core?

Their bodies were exhausted, but it wasn't just fatigue that gnawed at them. No, it was a deep, visceral unease that settled in their bones. The trial had left a scar, one that couldn't be healed with simple rest. They had stood before a force unlike anything they had ever known. Yachi. A being whose power was a storm that threatened to tear them apart, and yet, they had survived. But now, in the silence of their home, they were left with only one thought: What happens next?

Hagoromo entered his room, his footsteps heavy on the floor. The dim light of the oil lamp flickered in the corner, casting shadows that seemed to dance with a life of their own. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor, his mind racing. What was that? The pressure of Sensei, The invisible force pressing down on them was monstrous, unlike anything they had known.

How could a human wield such overwhelming power? ( They both don't know Conqueror's Haki or experience it they only felt it for the very first time they only know was chakra etc.)

The sheer weight of it. His chest tightened at the thought. He had fought before, faced powerful foes—but nothing, nothing, had ever come close to the overwhelming force that Yachi exuded.No, he thought, clenching his fists. I won't let it break me. I can't.

His mind kept drifting to one thing—the trial. In three days, he and Hamura would face Yachi again.

But this time, it would be different. They wouldn't be standing before him as students. This time, they would stand before him as enemy, And it didn't matter if they could win or not.

Hamura, lying in the room next to him, was no better. He couldn't shake the feeling that their entire existence had shifted on its axis. The weight of their sensei presence still pressed on his chest, suffocating, cold. Was this what true power felt like? His heart raced, but it wasn't out of fear anymore. No, it was something deeper. This is the power we must face.

Sleep wouldn't come. His mind was filled with images of possible fights, It felt like a nightmare, like a force of nature that could swallow them whole. But they couldn't afford to cower. Not now. They had to prepare, to sharpen their minds and bodies for what was to come.

"I can't stop thinking about it," Hagoromo's voice broke the silence, his words a whisper in the darkness.

"Neither can I," Hamura replied, his voice steady but filled with a quiet desperation. "It feels like... like the world is closing in on me. Like there's no way we can win."

"We don't have to win," Hagoromo said, his voice growing stronger. "We just have to face him. No matter how strong he is, we will fight. We will show him what we're made of. No matter the cost."

Hamura sat up in bed, his eyes burning with an intensity that matched Hagoromo's. "I've faced beast before, but this... this is different. But I won't back down. If it's death we face, then we face it as warriors."

There was a long silence between them, but it wasn't filled with doubt. It was filled with resolve. They weren't afraid of dying. They were afraid of failing their master. Of not being worthy of his teachings. We will face him. We will prove ourselves.

The brothers didn't speak again that night. Instead, they focused on the weight of their thoughts, pushing everything aside as they fell into a restless, fitful sleep. The hours passed in a haze of preparation—more training, more honing of their bodies, more sharpening of their minds. They couldn't afford to be anything less than ready.

The following days passed in a blur of sweat, blood, and sheer willpower. Every movement was practiced to perfection, every strike honed to a razor's edge. They didn't just train their bodies; they trained their minds to withstand the storm that was Yachi.They meditated, centered themselves, and let go of all doubt. We face him. We face him with everything.

But through it all,

Kaguya observed from the distance. Her sons had been different lately—there was a strange tension in their movements, a quiet determination in their eyes. They trained harder than ever, their faces grim, their focus unwavering. But she didn't ask them about it. She knew they were preparing for something, but what that something was, she couldn't say. Perhaps it was something Whatever it was.

When they finally arrived, it was like a storm had come. His very presence seemed to darken the sky, and the temperature dropped to an unbearable cold. The ground beneath them cracked with each step he took, as if the earth itself was unwilling to bear the weight of his power.

The brothers stood their ground, but the fear in their hearts was undeniable.Their master's gaze locked onto them, his eyes gleaming with the same terrifying intensity as before.

"You've come,"Yachi said, his voice a low, commanding rumble. "Now, show me what you have learned."

Without warning, Yachi unleashed his full presence once more. The brothers stumbled, their knees buckling under the pressure of the Conqueror's Haki. The air was thick with power, and it felt as though the world itself was collapsing under the weight of Yachi' will. But they refused to fall.

Hagoromo gritted his teeth, his entire body screaming in pain from the oppressive force. He clenched his fists. "I will not fall! I will face you, master! No matter the cost!"

Hamura, equally determined, stepped forward, his voice steady. "I will not back down. even if it means my life. I will show you my strength !!!"

Yachi watched them, his expression unreadable. the oppressive pressure faded as quickly as it had come. Slowly, he reached for the edge of his hood and pulled it back, a transformation beginning to unfold.

The brothers' eyes widened as they watched Yachi—their Yachi—change before them. His black hair faded into a cascade of deep crimson, flowing long and untamed like a fiery mane. His sharp, handsome features grew more defined, his face strong yet scarred—a trio of marks running jagged across his left eye, a silent testament to untold battles. His eyes, once soft and warm, sharpened into something piercing and commanding, glowing faintly like embers in a dying fire. He stood tall, towering, his body rippling with quiet power, an aura of legend and might surrounding him.

Hagoromo's voice trembled as he took a step back, his mind struggling to comprehend the truth. "N-No way..."

Hamura's hands shook at his sides, his eyes locked on the man before him. "You... you're him..."

Yachi' looked at them with a calm intensity, his crimson hair swaying with the wind. Finally, he spoke, his voice deep, unwavering, and absolute. "Yachi was never my real name. I am Ares Vasiliev—the Crimson-Haired Asura."

The words struck like thunder. The brothers' shock was palpable. The hero they had admired since childhood—the mythical warrior who was spoken of in hushed awe and reverence—had been standing beside them all this time. Training them. Guiding them. Loving them as a brother would.

"You…" Hagoromo's voice cracked, his emotions raw. "You're him? All this time… the hero I've wanted to become… you were right here!"

Hamura's knees threatened to give way, but he steadied himself, a spark of something new—something fiery—igniting in his heart. "The Crimson-Haired Asura… Ares Vasiliev… our master… You're everything we've wanted to be."

Ares gave a faint smile, the scars by his eye crinkling just slightly. "And you can be," he said, his voice low but resolute.

Without another word, Ares vanished from their sight. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared in front of them, his fist slamming toward Hagoromo like a meteor. Hagoromo barely raised his arms in time to block, the force sending him skidding backward, his feet digging trenches into the earth.

"Aresu—!" Hamura shouted, charging forward. But Ares pivoted, his crimson hair whipping through the air as he delivered a spinning kick that sent Hamura sprawling.

"Is that all you have?" Ares' voice thundered, his presence filling the battlefield like a storm. "You claim you want to become strong? Prove it to me!"

The brothers scrambled to their feet, their shock replaced by fierce determination. This was no longer just a fight—it was a chance to prove themselves to the one they had idolized their entire lives.

"Let's go, Hamura!" Hagoromo shouted, his voice ringing with conviction.

Hamura wiped the blood from his lip, his eyes blazing with unshakable resolve. "Together!"

Ares watched them charge with a glint of pride in his sharp, scarred gaze. Good, he thought. Let's see how far you're willing to go.

And so, the battle began. Ares Vasiliev, the Crimson-Haired Asura, unleashed his fury upon the brothers—not as their master, but as the legend they aspired to surpass.

The Trial had Begun...!!!