"You were talking pretty big just now, weren't you, kid?!"
The moment he stepped onto the platform, Tatsuma felt the weight of countless hostile glares and the angry shouts of his fellow shinobi. Many of them knew who he was, but his earlier declaration had been far too provocative to ignore.
Tatsuma scanned the crowd of nearly a hundred ninjas. He offered a genuine, warm smile and said, "To make it to this final round, I believe you are all talented and capable shinobi."
"You have the potential to become the backbone of this village. So, I'll give you a piece of advice: don't worry about defeating me. Focus on defeating the people standing next to you. Only then will your talents be recognized by the Jonin in the stands, giving you a chance at promotion. If you insist on focusing all your attacks on me, your collective grade will be... 'Fail'."
"Hmph! Are you saying I'm not as good as you?!" a ninja from the Uchiha clan barked in anger.
Tatsuma raised his hands in an innocent gesture. "My apologies. I wasn't targeting you specifically. I'm saying that everyone here... is inferior to me."
Roar—!
The arena erupted. Even the Jonin watching from the sidelines wore expressions of shock. Facing over a hundred Genin—many of whom were on the cusp of promotion—was no small feat. Even a Jonin could be overwhelmed if their rhythm was disrupted and they were swarmed by coordinated attacks.
Among these candidates were members of the prestigious hidden clans, possessing Secret Techniques and Bloodline Limits like the Sharingan and Byakugan. Even if their teamwork was crude, a raw, mass offensive would be devastating.
Up on the high dais, Hiruzen Sarutobi shifted in his seat, feeling a bit uneasy. In his memory, Tatsuma wasn't the type to be so boastful.
And yet... as a man who had spent decades reading people, Hiruzen realized something strange. When Tatsuma spoke those words, there wasn't a hint of malice or mockery in his voice.
He wasn't insulting them. He was simply stating what he believed to be an objective fact: "You are strong, but I am stronger."
Hiruzen hadn't seen someone like this in a long time—not since his own youth. There had been another man in the village back then, a person of unimaginable strength who was unfailingly kind and generous with his praise. However... that man would never have gone out of his way to provoke people's emotions like this.
Hiruzen believed that man had the power to back up such claims. But Tatsuma? Tatsuma was brilliant, perhaps the greatest prodigy Hiruzen had ever seen at that age, but this seemed impossible.
Unless... Hiruzen recalled a battle report from the previous year. It detailed Tatsuma killing two Jonin and forty Chunin single-handedly. But how could such a miracle be replicated here?
Given Uzumaki Mito's attitude, Hiruzen suspected there had been outside interference in that battle. Without Mito's direct support, there was nothing that should allow Tatsuma to overcome these odds. Hiruzen knew neither Mito nor Tatsuma would use that kind of lethal power against their own comrades. So, what was his plan?
And even if Tatsuma had a trump card, why was he so confident that Minato could do the same? Summoning from Mount Myoboku and Shikkotsu Forest was prohibited for this exam; the boys were on their own.
Hiruzen's gaze shifted to Minato. While the blonde didn't share Tatsuma's overt confidence, he showed no signs of fear, hesitation, or regret.
Minato clearly believed he could do it, too.
"Hokage-sama, Hokage-sama."
A Jonin nearby nudged him. Hiruzen realized the entire arena was waiting for his signal. He nodded and announced:
"The third phase of the Chunin Exams... begin!"
The word had barely left his lips when nearly every ninja in both rings came to the same conclusion: Get Tatsuma and Minato out first.
Whoosh!
In the second ring, Minato's speed was on full display. He became a blur, weaving through the crowd without immediate retaliation, his eyes constantly scanning his opponents.
Navigating a chaotic battlefield of a hundred people without being hindered for a single second required more than just raw speed; it required perfect route planning, observation, and predictive dodging.
The Jonin in the audience possessed that kind of speed, but very few possessed that level of analytical reaction. Hiruzen nodded, deeply impressed.
That boy is fast!
Then, his eyes returned to Tatsuma. Unlike Minato's fluid grace, Tatsuma was... more direct.
Tatsuma ducked and weaved, seizing arms, wrists, or shoulders. Using strength that surpassed anyone on the floor, he began physically hurlng ninjas out of the ring.
However, Hiruzen's brow soon furrowed. He noticed that Tatsuma was specifically targeting the lower-level ninjas. While this reduced the number of jutsu flying his way, it also cleared the board, giving the truly talented elites more room to move and coordinate their strikes. Those elites wouldn't leave openings as easily as the others.
Schlick—!
Sure enough, in the midst of the fray, a blade caught Tatsuma from the side, slicing across his left shoulder. Had he not been wearing his forehead protector as an arm-guard, the cut would have been much deeper.
Seeing Tatsuma bleed, the crowd roared in triumph. They pressed their advantage, trying to widen the opening, but Tatsuma's lips curled into a smirk.
That exposed shoulder had been a bait. He wanted to see if this scenario would be judged as a "real battle" by his system. After all, a standard spar wouldn't trigger his specialized talents.
But as the pain in his shoulder began to ebb with unnatural speed, Tatsuma knew his gamble had paid off. He had been prepared to rely on his own medical ninjutsu if the White Yaksha effects didn't activate, but now... he could truly enjoy the "fight."
Tatsuma's pace slowed abruptly. To the observers, it looked like the injury was taking its toll. He no longer had the raw momentum to clear twenty people at a time; instead, he seemed locked in a stalemate with those immediately surrounding him.
"He's going to exhaust himself," one Jonin remarked.
Another nodded. "Unchecked bleeding will drain his stamina even faster."
Most of the Jonin shared this view. Only Hiruzen, from his superior vantage point, remained skeptical. He didn't think Tatsuma was slowing down because of the wound.
Tatsuma looked more composed now. Hiruzen saw several opportunities where Tatsuma could have easily eliminated an opponent, yet the boy chose to let them stay. With Tatsuma's reflexes, he definitely saw the openings; he was choosing not to take them.
Meanwhile, Minato had finished his observation phase and began to strike. Unlike Tatsuma's earlier burst of raw power, Minato was methodical. He used shuriken, kunai, and paper bombs to restrict his opponents' movements, herding them into zones where he could eliminate them at his leisure.
Tatsuma kept a side-eye on Minato's progress. Once Minato had cleared his twentieth opponent, Tatsuma turned his attention back to his own ring. He used the Body Flicker to burst out of the encirclement, leaving a dozen attacks hitting thin air.
"Earth Style: Earth Shore Return!"
The moment he landed, his hands finished a seal. The arena shuddered as a massive slab of earth—far larger than the standard version of the jutsu—reared up. But... it was facing the wrong way.
The sudden upheaval of the ground sent a dozen ninjas flying. A few were launched so high they landed in the neighboring ring where Minato was fighting. Confused, they scrambled to their feet and charged at the blonde boy, unable to even see who was surrounding them.
The proctors quickly plucked them out and declared them eliminated.
"Clever. He's not limited by the standard applications of ninjutsu," Hiruzen murmured.
Watching the increasingly excited Tatsuma and the calmly confident Minato, Hiruzen realized that victory for the duo was no longer a pipe dream.
By maintaining their stamina and mental focus, they were letting their opponents trip over each other. The lack of chemistry and the fear of friendly fire among the mass of Genin was a weapon in itself.
This was a scenario you'd never see in a real war. No matter how chaotic a battlefield, there was always a chain of command and a formation to follow. But here, no one had the authority to lead, and the competitive nature of the exam prevented true unity.
Hiruzen estimated the boys could handle the first sixty to eighty opponents this way. The problem was the endgame.
Once the numbers dwindled, the remaining elites would have plenty of room to unleash their full power without fear of hitting allies. Those survivors were the best of the best, and they would be much harder to handle.
Exactly as Hiruzen predicted, as time passed, only thirty to forty ninjas remained in each ring.
By now, both Tatsuma and Minato were breathing heavily. Their remaining opponents, however, were in better shape. Some had stayed on the fringes from the start, preserving their chakra and stamina for the final showdown.
Winning against these remaining forty would be harder than defeating the previous eighty combined.
The pace of the battle slowed once more. The survivors hesitated to initiate, giving the two boys a rare, brief moment to breathe.
Standing in their respective rings, Tatsuma and Minato simultaneously reached for their pouches and pulled out soldier pills. Without any signal, they both turned to look at each other. Tatsuma tossed the pill into his mouth and said, his voice slightly muffled by the chewing:
"Minato... time to show them what real ninjutsu looks like."
"Yeah. I was saving this for our next spar, but I guess I'll have to use it now."
As the soldier pills took effect and their stamina surged back, both boys simultaneously formed the seal for Shadow Clones.
High on the dais, Hiruzen Sarutobi stood up. Up until now, he had seen Taijutsu, tactics, and raw genius, but very little Ninjutsu.
Now, the two boys were about to reveal the culmination of their years of study. Hiruzen smiled. He could already guess their endgame.
Because it was the very thing he was most famous for.