Chapter 43

As Naruto strolled through Uzu, his guide leading him on a quiet but thorough tour, he couldn't help but marvel at the world around him. The bustling streets and vibrant atmosphere carried a sense of tradition and innovation unlike anything he had encountered before.

The people of Uzu, with their red hair and distinct features, cast curious glances his way but kept their distance. Naruto understood their hesitance—his blonde hair, foreign clothing, and the unmistakable Konoha and Land of Fire symbols emblazoned on his attire made him an outsider in this tightly knit community.

Still, Naruto didn't mind. He simply observed, his new eyes revealing details that left him awestruck.

Everywhere he looked, he saw seals.

They were etched into the very fabric of Uzu. Buildings shimmered with layers of intricate fuinjutsu, some glowing faintly with chakra. People carried seals on their clothing, their skin, and even deep within their bodies—etched onto their bones like hidden tattoos of power. The air itself seemed to hum with floating seals, their purpose a mystery to him. Beneath his feet, the ground pulsed with ancient carvings, as though the village had fused with its very foundations over centuries of meticulous crafting.

It was a paradise of fuinjutsu, a sight that no other place in the world could compare to.

Naruto's attention shifted to the people. Shopkeepers managed massive inventories by using storage seals, casually pulling entire shelves of items from tiny containers. Some individuals teleported short distances with ease, the seals on their bodies activating with a flash of light. Others flew through the air gracefully, their seals glowing along their limbs.

In training grounds and open courtyards, villagers practiced unique techniques. Barriers rose and fell with precision, chakra chains danced in synchronized patterns, and seals sparked with elemental energy, granting users control over fire, water, and more.

Naruto soaked in every detail, his mind racing with possibilities. This was the Uzumaki clan's legacy—a fusion of creativity and power that surpassed anything he had ever dreamed of.

He realized how limited his own knowledge of fuinjutsu truly was. Though he had learned some basics from Jiraiya and had gained additional insight from Orochi's teachings and the Sage's ancient texts, those lessons now felt shallow in comparison to what he witnessed here. Fuinjutsu wasn't like ninjutsu, where raw power could sometimes substitute for technique. It required understanding, finesse, and deep comprehension of the principles involved.

Naruto tried to engage his guide in conversation as they walked, but the man remained professional, responding with short, polite answers and little else. It was clear he was there to ensure Naruto's safety and nothing more.

By the time they arrived at the training area, Naruto was practically buzzing with excitement. The vast space was filled with Uzumaki clansmen honing their craft.

As Naruto stood near the edge of the training arena, Toshiro approached him with measured steps, his hands clasped behind his back. His expression remained neutral, as it often did, betraying little of his thoughts. Toshiro was a man who rarely gave praise and was not easily impressed, a fact that had earned him a reputation among the Uzumaki as a stern and uncompromising figure.

"What do you think?" Toshiro asked, standing beside Naruto and gazing out over the arena where fighters demonstrated their mastery of seals and combat techniques.

"They're strong," Naruto replied, his voice carrying a note of genuine admiration. "Just watching them fight has given me new ideas."

Toshiro studied Naruto briefly. While he didn't know the young man deeply, he had gathered from their conversations and interactions that Naruto was no ordinary shinobi. He was a combat genius, skilled in ninjutsu and driven by an unshakable resolve—a dangerous combination in the right hands.

"Is that so?" Toshiro said, his tone measured. "Then how about you spar with our top talent? Perhaps you'll learn better by facing him directly."

Naruto's eyes lit up with excitement at the prospect. He wasn't naïve—he understood that this was more than just an opportunity to train. It was a test, an evaluation by the Uzumaki elders to gauge his strength, potential, and perhaps even his weaknesses. He knew that not everyone would accept him or his ambitions without question. There would always be those who sought to challenge him, to knock him down.

But that didn't bother him. Naruto had always been the type to rise to any challenge. For him, strength was a journey, not a destination. If someone was stronger, it simply meant he had more room to grow.

"Really? I'd love to spar," Naruto said, a grin breaking across his face. His genuine excitement momentarily pushed aside any negative thoughts about the situation.

From across the arena, a man in his twenties approached, his gait relaxed and a cigar dangling from his lips. His physique was imposing, broad-shouldered and muscular, and his casual demeanor radiated confidence. He looked Naruto up and down, his gaze lingering on the blonde's lean frame.

"Is this my opponent?" the man asked, his tone nonchalant but not condescending. "He doesn't look strong."

Before Naruto could respond, Toshiro's stern voice cut through the air.

"Makoto, how many times have I told you to stop smoking in my presence? Throw it away before I do it personally," Toshiro barked, his voice sharp enough to make several bystanders flinch. "And stop judging people by appearances. Use your eyes and your soul."

Makoto sighed, clearly used to Toshiro's reprimands. He plucked the cigar from his lips and stubbed it out, muttering under his breath.

Naruto's attention was drawn to Makoto's eyes. As the man straightened up, the blonde caught a glimpse of something unusual—seals etched inside Makoto's pupils. They rotated slowly, forming a pattern that resembled a magical circle.

Naruto felt a subtle but profound shift in the air as Makoto stared at him. It was as though the man wasn't just looking at him but analyzing him on a deeper level. Naruto could feel it—a strange, invasive sensation, as if his life force and even his soul were being scrutinized.

Makoto's lips curled into a faint scowl after a moment. "Tsk," he clicked his tongue, his frustration evident. "Let's get this over with."

It didn't escape Naruto's notice that Makoto seemed displeased. From the murmurs among the spectators and the aura Makoto exuded, it was clear that this man wasn't just a skilled fighter—he was someone important.

"He's the Red King," someone whispered nearby, the reverence in their voice unmistakable.

Naruto didn't know what that title entailed, but it was obvious that Makoto was far from an ordinary clan member. The sheer volume of chakra Makoto possessed was staggering, easily surpassing Kage-level. His life force burned brightly, even among the already impressive Uzumaki.

The duo stepped into the arena, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a blade. As they took their positions, several Uzumaki clan members activated the layered barriers surrounding the arena, creating multiple shimmering walls of light and seals.

Naruto clenched his fists, a determined smile on his face.

Makoto stood tall, his demeanor serious as he addressed Naruto. "I will start strong, so get ready." His voice carried a confident edge, his posture relaxed yet brimming with readiness. He wielded no weapons, his hands casually at his sides.

Naruto offered a calm nod, his expression steady. "I am always ready. Please, show me the might of the Uzumaki clan." His words were respectful, but the unshakable confidence in his tone made it seem as if he were addressing an equal—or worse, a subordinate.

Makoto narrowed his eyes, his annoyance barely hidden. The way Naruto spoke grated on him, as though the blond thought himself untouchable. Deciding to forego further conversation, Makoto moved into action. Offense was his specialty, and he intended to make his point clear.

Extending his arm forward, Makoto pointed directly at Naruto. Fuinjutsu seals burst into existence, forming a complex circle of runes and glyphs in front of him. The circle pulsed with power, its intricate patterns glowing with fiery red light. But that wasn't all. The single circle multiplied, replicating itself until ten concentric circles stacked vertically in a towering column of energy.

"Dragon Fire," Makoto intoned.

The flames erupted from the innermost circle, roaring through the others in sequence. With each passing circle, the jutsu grew exponentially in strength, its intensity multiplying tenfold. By the time it reached Naruto, the attack was no longer an ordinary fire jutsu—it was a raging inferno of Kage-level devastation.

Naruto stood firm, his arms crossed as he watched the incoming attack with sharp, analytical eyes. The sheer power of the technique was impressive, but what caught his attention most was the innovation behind it. He's using fuinjutsu to amplify the power of his elemental techniques. Fascinating...

When the firestorm reached him, Naruto remained unmoved. The blazing flames surrounded him, their searing heat enough to melt stone and warp the very air. Yet, as the attack washed over him, it did little more than ripple harmlessly against his form.

Still, Naruto noted the unique qualities of the fire. These weren't ordinary flames. The heat alone rivaled Madara Uchiha's legendary fire jutsu, but there was something more. Embedded within the flames were countless microscopic seals, each contributing to the jutsu's devastating effects.

The seals gave the fire additional properties: they burned not just flesh but chakra itself, creating a constant draining effect on the target's reserves. They also suppressed the target's ability to manipulate chakra, a deadly combination that could incapacitate most opponents before they even realized what was happening.

As the fire raged, Makoto slammed his foot onto the ground, activating another layer of his strategy. Red fuinjutsu seals spread outward from beneath him, forming an intricate network that enveloped the entire arena. The ground glowed ominously, and the air within the barrier grew heavy with oppressive energy.

"This is my Flame Domain," Makoto declared, his voice resonating with power. The domain acted as an extension of his will, boosting his own abilities while simultaneously suppressing Naruto's.

Naruto absorbed the flames into his body with ease, his mind racing as he analyzed the mechanics of Makoto's techniques. The blend of elemental mastery and fuinjutsu artistry was unlike anything he'd encountered before. His focus was entirely on understanding, dissecting the intricacies of Makoto's methods.

Makoto, however, was growing irritated. To him, it seemed like Naruto wasn't taking the fight seriously. "Can you at least take this a bit seriously?" he snapped, his frustration evident.

Naruto blinked, pulled from his thoughts. He smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry, I was just distracted by your skills. They're incredible."

The honest praise caught Makoto off guard. For a moment, his annoyance faded, replaced by a flicker of surprise.

"Fine," he muttered, his tone softening slightly. "Just fight back a little, will you?"

Naruto chuckled, his blue eyes gleaming with excitement. "Alright then. Let's see how far I can push myself against the Red King." He shifted his stance, his presence shifting from passive observer to active combatant. The air around him seemed to hum with latent power, and for the first time, Makoto felt a twinge of unease.

The real fight was about to begin.