Naruto: My Progress in Konoha.

A soft breeze blew through the woods, rustling the leaves with a gentle "swoosh, swoosh, swoosh."

Uchiha Haruki and Kohara Shuji stood tens of meters apart, locked in a silent standoff. A tense, killing intent filled the air between them.

Even the insects that had resumed their chirping after the other ninja left fell quiet again, silenced by the oppressive pressure.

Then, in the blink of an eye, both moved.

Kohara Shuji suddenly pulled out several kunai and hurled them toward Haruki in one fluid motion.

The three tomoe in Haruki's Sharingan spun rapidly, instantly tracking the trajectory of each kunai. He raised his short sword and slashed.

Cling! Cling!

Each kunai was knocked from the air, deflected with deadly precision.

But in the very next second, Kohara Shuji was already upon him. A kunai in hand, he thrust it toward Haruki's carotid artery with a vicious, calculated angle.

There was no time to parry with his sword.

Haruki shifted his weight and narrowly sidestepped the attack.

But Kohara didn't let up. He flicked his wrist, and the kunai's stabbing motion turned into a slashing one—this time aiming straight for the area just below Haruki's collarbone.

Haruki pushed off the ground, stepping back again to avoid the strike.

Shuji stepped forward to keep the pressure on, swinging once more—this time slashing directly at Haruki's throat.

Haruki leaned his head back ever so slightly—just enough to avoid the blade. He could even feel the sharp wind graze his skin.

Kohara kept pressing, launching a barrage of attacks that forced Haruki to dodge again and again.

In that moment, Haruki felt as if he had returned to several months ago—the first time they fought.

Kohara's use of the kunai was still as simple, efficient, and ruthless as ever. His mastery of the deadliness of short weapons was sharp and unmistakable.

But this time, things were different.

Haruki now had his own understanding of the power of long weapons.

With that thought, Haruki stopped dodging and began to swing his short sword in counterattack.

Back then, even at full strength, he could only barely defend under Kohara's onslaught.

Now, after just a dozen moves, he had seized the initiative—forcing Kohara into defense.

The clash of weapons rang through the forest.

Kunai and short sword collided in rapid succession, each blow creating crisp metallic echoes.

Kohara's face remained stoic, but inside, his thoughts were in turmoil.

Their clash two days ago had been brief—he had only witnessed Haruki's improvement in ninjutsu and projectile techniques. He had assumed that was just a natural progression from awakening the three tomoe Sharingan.

But now, after trading real blows, he truly felt the depth of Haruki's progress.

This level of swordsmanship—had he not seen it with his own eyes and clashed with it directly, he never would have believed that the same green rookie from months ago was capable of this.

The gap was just too immense.

Once the shock passed, it gave way to murderous intent.

He bore a deep hatred for the Uchiha clan and refused to watch another Uchiha genius rise.

Which meant—Haruki had to die. Today. Here. No matter what.

It was a pity Konoha had detected their ambush early, forcing Han and the others to withdraw. Otherwise, the odds would've been much more in Kohara's favor.

Now, he could only count on Chika's coordination.

As that thought passed through his mind, Kohara glanced out of the corner of his eye toward where Chika had vanished, silently awaiting his ambush.

But Haruki's Sharingan had evolved to its three-tomoe peak, far surpassing the average ninja in perception. Such subtle movements didn't escape his gaze.

In fact, he'd already noticed the absence of the strange insect beast.

Earlier, he had sensed that it could somehow suppress its presence—and now he was sure.

"If that's the case, I need to watch out for sneak attacks."

With that in mind, Haruki split a portion of his awareness to monitor the surrounding environment—every breeze, every rustle of grass.

At the same time, he never stopped attacking.

He knew the Iwagakure encirclement was tightening. If this skirmish got discovered, things would get a lot more complicated.

Which meant—he had to end this quickly.

Cling! Cling! Cling!

Another round of kunai clashed against Haruki's sword.

Then came the sound of fabric tearing.

Rip—!

Kohara looked down. A portion of his clothing around the waist had been cut open.

His eyes grew serious—and fearful.

Just moments ago, Haruki had feinted, then followed up with two swift thrusts. Had he been a split second slower, his kidney would've been skewered.

The pressure on him was mounting.

Meanwhile, Haruki was getting more comfortable with each passing second.

The reason was simple: he had begun to see through Kohara's movements.

And once that happened, it was only a matter of finding the optimal angles for counterattack. Each dodge, each swing, became easier and more natural.

Haruki estimated that if Kohara didn't switch up his style soon, he'd be finished in minutes.

Now it was just a matter of how Kohara chose to react.

Time ticked by.

Wounds began appearing on Kohara's body, small at first—but growing.

Haruki's attacks grew more and more aggressive.

Just as he locked in an opening, preparing for a critical strike, something stirred beneath his feet.

Had he not been attuned to every whisper of wind and leaf, he might have missed it.

But his instincts reacted instantly.

Without a pause, Haruki leapt back, abandoning his position.

At that exact moment, a scaled insect beast silently burst from underground—its maw wide open, as if trying to swallow him whole.

But Haruki's reflexes were faster. What it caught was merely a blurred afterimage.

Still, Kohara had predicted this and prepared accordingly. His follow-up was already in motion.

He completed a set of hand seals, opened his mouth, and spat out a barrage of compressed air bullets—like invisible bullets flying toward Haruki.

Though the air spheres were nearly transparent, Haruki's Sharingan picked up every one of them.

He twisted, flashed, and dodged—not a single hit landed.

Not only that—he took the opportunity to pull out three shuriken and hurled them at Kohara's throat, heart, and stomach.

But what surprised Haruki was—the insect beast deflected all of them.

Its tail flicked out and swept the shuriken away effortlessly.

If it had only defended Kohara, Haruki wouldn't have thought twice—but the timing it chose was perfect.

That implied it had intelligence.

Which meant it couldn't be ignored in the upcoming fight.

Thoughts flickered through his mind in a flash.

Haruki stared at Kohara, then rapidly performed hand seals—clearly preparing to unleash genjutsu.

Kohara immediately turned his gaze away, unwilling to meet his eyes.

Just as planned.

Haruki used the same strategy he'd used against Han—a sleight of hand.

His hand seals shifted midstream. What had started as the illusion-based "Demonic Illusion: Shackling Stakes Technique" transformed into a ninjutsu:

"Fire Style: Phoenix Fire Technique!"

In the next instant, dozens of small fireballs burst from Haruki's mouth, splitting into two waves.

One-third surged toward the insect beast.

Two-thirds flew straight at Kohara Shuji.