Naruto: My Progress in Konoha.

What Fukui Ichiro was thinking—Uchiha Haruki neither knew, nor cared.

Right now, he only wanted one thing: to test out his newly advanced Level 6 swordsmanship.

With that thought in mind, Haruki dashed straight toward the two Iwagakure Jonin not far ahead.

Seeing Haruki approach with such speed, Fukui Ichiro raised his kunai and warned his companion:

"Yōto, watch out for his eyes!"

"Understood,"

Iwagama Yōto replied in a low, heavy tone.

He wasn't stupid. After watching Haruki put Fukui Ichiro under hypnosis so easily, he'd long realized this opponent was no ordinary enemy—and had no intention of being careless.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—!

Several kunai flew through the air, aimed precisely at Haruki's vital points.

The tomoe in Haruki's Sharingan spun rapidly. In an instant, he had locked onto the trajectories of the kunai and calculated the most efficient evasion route in his mind.

He pushed off the ground, lowered his body, and slipped past the kunai with several fluid sidesteps. His speed didn't slow at all.

Yōto clicked his tongue, but he didn't look disappointed.

He hadn't really expected this kind of basic attack to hurt Haruki. It was only meant to buy time for Fukui Ichiro to strike.

Clang—!

Haruki's short sword slashed forward, deflecting Fukui Ichiro's surprise thrust.

Zzzzt—!

A sharp screech rang out as blade and kunai scraped together, sparks flying from the friction.

They locked in place for a brief moment, muscles straining. Then both leapt backward at the same time, creating distance.

But that wasn't the end—it was just the beginning.

The moment their feet touched the ground, they lunged again. Kunai and short sword collided once more, this time with an even louder metallic clang.

This time, there was no pause. The moment they separated, they clashed again. And again.

The clearing echoed with a storm of ceaseless steel-on-steel sounds.

Haruki wasn't rushing to finish the fight—he wanted to test his swordsmanship.

On the other hand, Fukui Ichiro fought like a man possessed, launching a fierce flurry of attacks, trying not to fall into a defensive rhythm.

Haruki, in contrast, was like a solitary boat on a stormy sea. Surrounded by chaos and aggression, he always seemed on the verge of capsizing.

But that was only how it looked.

In truth, Haruki's little boat, despite drifting with the waves, remained perfectly stable.

To an outside observer, it was clear: despite Fukui Ichiro's relentless assault, Haruki was effortlessly in control.

Any attack he could dodge, he avoided with the barest movement. Those he couldn't dodge, he blocked cleanly with a precise swing of his blade.

His motions were sharp and graceful—like a dancer on the edge of a blade. Dangerous to watch, yet completely under control.

There was an elegance to it all, a surreal calm amidst the chaos.

What's going on? Why does his swordsmanship feel suddenly so much better?

Fukui Ichiro couldn't help but feel shaken.

Earlier in their fight, Haruki's swordsmanship had been strong—but within the realm of comprehension.

But now?

Haruki's ease in parrying every one of his attacks made Fukui question his own ability.

Did I fall under a genjutsu?

That thought surfaced in his mind, and for a moment, his actions hesitated.

"Huh? An opening!"

Sensing the shift in his opponent's state of mind, Haruki immediately launched a thrust.

He hadn't planned to attack first, but when opportunity presented itself, he wasn't going to waste it.

His blade darted toward Fukui Ichiro's chest, fast and accurate.

Just before it could land, a kunai came flying from the side—Yōto's interception, deflecting the blow.

Only then did Fukui Ichiro snap out of his daze. Staring at the blade that had nearly pierced his chest, a cold sweat broke across his back.

"Ichiro! What happened to you?!"

Yōto, still holding off Haruki's sword, turned to him and asked sharply.

"I'm fine!"

Fukui Ichiro shook his head, forcing himself to refocus.

"Just be careful—his swordsmanship is no joke!"

"What do you mean?"

Yōto frowned, confused.

From his point of view, it looked like Fukui Ichiro had simply zoned out in the middle of the fight and almost got himself skewered. What did that have to do with Haruki's swordsmanship?

Had Fukui warned him about the Sharingan, it would've made more sense—maybe Ichiro had just fallen under a genjutsu again.

But emphasizing his swordsmanship?

That part made no sense.

Sure, Haruki was good. His technique, the way he deflected every blow—extremely sharp.

But based on what Haruki had shown in earlier fights, this didn't seem outside his capability. So why the warning?

The truth was—unless you were the one fighting Haruki directly, you couldn't possibly understand the difference.

Haruki now realized that his Level 6 swordsmanship hadn't enhanced raw technique, but instead refined his control of combat detail.

This was the kind of change only firsthand combat could reveal.

Even though Yōto had watched their fight closely, he hadn't noticed anything strange.

The changes were too subtle—until you were the one on the receiving end.

And Yōto... was about to experience it himself.

Haruki turned to the Jonin still holding off his blade. Without hesitation, he expanded his assault to include both enemies.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Haruki's short sword danced through the air as he engaged the two Iwagakure Jonin simultaneously.

Within minutes, Haruki had taken complete control of the fight.

His sword pressured them both, leaving them barely able to respond.

Only then did Yōto finally realize what Fukui Ichiro meant when he said Haruki's swordsmanship was "very strong."

This isn't just strong—it's a total transformation!

Once you reached a certain level of skill, battles were decided by the smallest margins.

And Haruki's recent breakthrough had pushed his mastery over those margins to a terrifying level.

The real difference was subtle—yet decisive.

Fukui and Yōto were both experienced Jonin. That meant they felt the impact of this change more acutely than anyone else.

Clang! Clang! Sssht!

Yōto parried multiple strikes with his kunai, but couldn't block the last one in time.

Haruki's short sword grazed his shoulder—drawing blood.

Fukui Ichiro stepped in quickly, trying to block Haruki's follow-up and shield his comrade.

But Haruki had already seen the opening.

Between the two of them, Yōto's close combat ability was clearly the weaker link.

So Haruki batted aside Fukui's interference with a few quick parries, then locked onto Yōto again, resuming his pressure.

Yes, Jonin were supposed to be all-rounders—proficient in ninjutsu, taijutsu, and genjutsu—but that didn't mean their abilities were equal across all areas.

Yōto might have been stronger in taijutsu than your average Chuunin, or even some elite Tokubetsu Jonin, but compared to Fukui Ichiro, he came up short.

And compared to Haruki?

He didn't stand a chance.

Under Haruki's renewed barrage, Yōto could do nothing but defend.

Had Fukui not been interfering and disrupting Haruki's rhythm, Yōto might've already been taken down.

This was the power of Level 6 swordsmanship, especially when paired with the Sharingan.

And it only made Haruki more excited to start developing the next set of exclusive techniques that would be based on this level of skill.