Chapter 12 - The Final Combat Examination

Chapter 12 - The Final Combat Examination

**Konohagakure – Ninja Academy**

The day had finally arrived.

The air around the Ninja Academy buzzed with excitement and nervous energy as students gathered in the training grounds for their final combat examination of the term. But this wasn't just any test—it was the Academy's ranking tournament, an event that would determine the strongest students of the year.

This tournament was more than just a measure of skill; it was a chance to prove oneself in front of the Academy instructors and, more importantly, the higher-ups of Konoha. Even the Third Hokage himself would be present to observe the final rounds. The results would not only influence a student's graduation but also their team placement upon becoming genin.

For many, today was an opportunity to stand out.

For some, it was a chance to catch the eye of Konoha's elite.

And for others, it was a battle for survival in the fiercely competitive world of ninjas.

Most students had set their sights on securing second place. After all, first place was already assumed to belong to one person—Uchiha Makoto, the prodigy of the Uchiha Clan. Few dared to believe they could surpass him.

But Kazane was not one of those people.

Due to the sheer number of students, the Academy had divided the year into four separate classes, each with its own designated battle arena. Within each class, students were further split into two groups. The top two from each group would advance to the final round, where they would fight before the Hokage himself to determine the overall champion.

This format ensured that only the strongest, the most skilled, and the most determined students would make it to the top.

The Academy instructors had made it clear: talent alone would not be enough to win. Strategy, endurance, and willpower would determine the outcome of each battle.

And for Kazane, this was just another step in his path forward.

At this moment, Kazane and his classmates stood in formation near the battlefield, observing an ongoing match. The tense atmosphere was punctuated by the clashing of kunai and the occasional grunts of exertion.

Two students were locked in fierce combat, neither willing to back down.

**Clang! Clang!**

Metal clashed against metal, sparks flying with each impact as the fighters pushed themselves to their limits.

"Haah!! Yaaah!!"

One of the combatants, Morino Ibiki, let out a determined shout as he swung his kunai with all his strength, forcing his opponent to stagger backward. He pressed his advantage, hurling his kunai forward in a sudden attack, making his opponent retreat another step.

But he wasn't finished.

Ibiki's hands moved in a blur, forming a rapid sequence of hand seals.

"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!"

A fierce gust of wind erupted from his hands, forming a sharp, cutting current that roared toward his opponent.

The student's eyes widened in horror. There was no time to dodge, no space to counter. The sheer force of the technique sent dust swirling across the battlefield.

The watching students murmured among themselves.

"That's an advanced jutsu for an academy student…"

"Can his opponent even block that?"

"There's no way. The match is over."

Just as the attack was about to strike—

A blur of movement.

The chunin instructor overseeing the match intervened in an instant, his hands flashing through a sequence of hand seals.

"Water Release: Water Wall!"

A rushing torrent of water surged from the ground, forming a protective barrier between the two students. The wind blade slammed into the water with a loud crash, sending droplets scattering in every direction. The defensive technique absorbed the impact, dissipating the attack entirely.

As the battlefield settled, the instructor exhaled softly before making the official announcement.

"Morino Ibiki wins!"

Ibiki relaxed his stance, lowering his hands. He had expected the match to end in his favor, but he hadn't anticipated needing such force to secure victory.

His opponent, though shaken, nodded in acceptance.

The instructor wasted no time moving on.

"Next match—Hatake Kazane versus Inobe Jiro."

A ripple of murmurs spread among the gathered students, their eyes immediately turning toward the two names that had just been called.

Inobe Jiro was a well-known figure among the academy's top students, consistently ranking in the upper echelon. He was strong, skilled, and determined. His physical prowess and tactical awareness had earned him a reputation as one of the best fighters in the class.

Kazane, on the other hand, was something of an anomaly. Though he had already bested Hyūga Namikaze in a previous match, many students still regarded him with skepticism. A single victory—even against a Hyūga—was not enough to overturn the long-standing perceptions that had been ingrained in their minds.

Jiro was battle-tested. Kazane, in their eyes, was still unproven.

"Kazane, do your best!"

A clear voice rang out, drawing attention.

Yūhi Kurenai stood at the sidelines, offering her support without hesitation. Unlike the others, she had already witnessed Kazane's true strength firsthand, and she had no doubt about his capabilities.

Kazane stepped forward onto the field with quiet confidence, his gaze settling on Jiro.

The moment their eyes met, an unspoken challenge passed between them.

Jiro's grip tightened around the kunai in his hand. His body was coiled like a spring, tense with anticipation.

Kazane, by contrast, appeared completely at ease. He studied Jiro for a brief moment before speaking in a calm, almost indifferent tone.

"Make your move. If I strike, you might die."

The words were spoken casually, without a hint of arrogance or malice, but they carried a weight that sent a shiver through the onlookers.

Jiro's expression darkened. He could feel the condescension laced within that statement, as if Kazane had already determined the outcome of the match before it even began. His pride flared, and anger surged through his veins.

"You talk too much!"

With a growl, Jiro launched himself forward, his kunai gleaming in the sunlight as he aimed straight for Kazane's torso.

His movements were fast, precise, honed by years of disciplined training. A direct, forceful strike meant to put an end to the fight before Kazane could react.

But Kazane had already moved.

Before Jiro could even register what had happened, Kazane's wooden sword flicked forward with effortless grace.

Tap.

A sharp jolt of pain shot through Jiro's wrist as the tip of the wooden sword struck a precise pressure point. His fingers reflexively loosened, and the kunai slipped from his grasp, clattering uselessly to the ground.

Tap.

A second strike followed immediately. Before Jiro could recover, Kazane's wooden sword was already at his throat, resting lightly against his skin.

The entire exchange had lasted less than a second.

The realization hit Jiro like a crashing wave. He had lost. Completely.

His breath hitched, and a cold sweat formed at the back of his neck. His body refused to move, as if some primal instinct had frozen him in place.

Kazane's voice, steady and unwavering, cut through the silence.

"You've lost. If you move forward, you'll die."

The sheer finality of those words sent a deep, chilling fear through Jiro's core. His knees wobbled, and without meaning to, he staggered back two steps before his legs gave out entirely. He collapsed onto the ground, eyes wide with disbelief.

Silence engulfed the training field.

A moment later, the instructor's voice rang out.

"Hatake Kazane wins!"

The declaration was met with a stunned pause. Then, whispers broke out among the students.

"So fast..."

"He barely even moved..."

"Jiro didn't stand a chance!"

Many of them had expected a close fight—one that would push both combatants to their limits. Instead, the match had ended in an instant.

Jiro remained on the ground, staring at his trembling hands. He had been defeated before he even had the chance to fight back.

Kazane, meanwhile, said nothing more. He simply turned and walked away, as if the result had never been in question to begin with.

His victory was just the beginning.

Hatake Kazane continued his unbroken streak, cutting through every opponent with the same effortless precision. Strike after strike, he overwhelmed them, leaving no room for counterattacks. It was only a matter of time before the competition in his class dwindled down to just two contenders.

Kazane Hatake.

Uchiha Makoto.

The strongest of their class, standing at the peak.

But this wasn't the end.

From every class, two champions had been selected.

As the victors gathered in the grand training grounds, the atmosphere grew heavier. The previously informal matches had been student affairs, but this—this was different. Watching over the main arena, seated in a place of honor, was the Hokage himself.

Sarutobi Hiruzen.

The moment he stepped onto the stage, flanked by several elite shinobi, the weight of his presence alone was enough to silence the murmuring crowd. His flowing ceremonial robes, adorned with the kanji for "Fire," billowed gently as he walked with an air of quiet authority.

The students—combatants and spectators alike—erupted into cheers.

Despite his aging features, there was no mistaking the power that radiated from the man known as the "Strongest Hokage." The "Ninja Professor." The "Hero of the Shinobi World."

Many among the crowd had only ever seen glimpses of him from afar. Now, with his gaze sweeping across them, taking in the hopeful and determined expressions of the young shinobi-to-be, the admiration in their eyes deepened.

He was not the tallest nor the most physically imposing figure, yet in that moment, he felt larger than life.

Coming to a stop before them, Hiruzen raised a hand.

The cheers died instantly.

Silence fell over the training grounds as the Hokage's voice carried across the open space, calm yet commanding.

He spoke of Konoha's guiding principle.

"The Will of Fire burns within all of us."

His tone was warm, full of conviction.

"Where the leaves dance, the fire burns bright. The flame will continue to illuminate the village, nurturing the new leaves that sprout."

His eyes softened as he gazed upon them.

"The future of the village rests in your hands."

Passion seeped into his words, resonating in the hearts of those who listened.

"The Will of Fire shall be inherited by you, the next generation of young leaves. So, my children, strive forward! For the prosperity of the village, for the legacy of the Will of Fire!"

His voice rang clear, each word carrying weight.

The response was immediate.

The students, the spectators, even some of the instructors were swept up in the fervor. Their hearts pounded with emotion, their spirits ignited by the ideals of Konoha.

Kazane, however, stood still amidst the sea of excitement.

His sharp gaze drifted over the faces around him, taking in the fiery determination in their eyes. He then shifted his attention to Hiruzen, who remained composed yet impassioned.

And in that moment, something cold flickered in Kazane's eyes.

"The Will of Fire, huh..."

A quiet, bitter thought passed through his mind.

"Such an elegant way to say 'indoctrination.' A glorified chant to keep everyone obedient. How many have died for this so-called Will? How many have been sacrificed under the pretense of protecting the village?"

His fingers curled slightly at his sides.

"And in the shadows… behind all this 'light'… lies the true hand that shapes Konoha. Root. A hidden rot, draining the village of its vitality, all while pretending to nurture it."

But he said nothing.

To the outside world, he was just another student standing among the hopeful, seemingly moved by the Hokage's words.

With the speech concluded, the tournament commenced.

The matchups were determined by drawing lots, following a straightforward elimination format: eight participants would be reduced to four in the first round, then to two, and finally, a champion would be decided.

Kazane's first opponent was a student from another class—one whose name he didn't even recognize.

The moment the student saw who he had drawn, his face went pale.

Of all the possible matchups, there were only two people he had desperately hoped to avoid.

Uchiha Makoto.

Hatake Kazane.

Unfortunately for him, fate had given him the worst outcome.

Although each class had sent two representatives, the students had been closely watching the other groups' battles, and Kazane's reputation preceded him. He had cut through every opponent in the preliminaries with a single strike, displaying a level of strength that left many shaken.

A heavy silence hung in the air as the match was called.

"I… I surrender!!"

The words came out in a panicked rush.

He had considered putting up a fight, but the moment Kazane stepped forward—his gaze sharp, his body tense with anticipation, and three wooden swords in hand, ready for battle—he felt an overwhelming sense of dread.

It wasn't worth it.

Memories of kazane's previous matches flooded his mind—opponents struck down in humiliating defeats, not even given the chance to react. And with the Hokage himself watching, he refused to become another example.

The proctor blinked, clearly surprised, but after a brief pause, he let out a sigh and shook his head.

"Hatake kazane wins by forfeit."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, some students exchanging glances of disbelief, others stifling laughter.

Kazane, meanwhile, remained still for a moment before exhaling quietly.

He hadn't expected his opponent to surrender outright, but on second thought, it made sense.

This was still just the Ninja Academy.

These were just kids.

With the first round concluded, the next matchups were determined:

Kazane Hatake vs. Itsuki Tachibana

Uchiha Makoto vs. Hyūga Izuna