In the dim light of the underground training dungeon, Haruto Itsuki looked down at the wound slashed across his side, blood trailing lightly down his robes.
"...Still too reckless, huh?" he muttered with a frustrated sigh.
In his analysis, the real advantages among the Konoha Twelve ca down to just a few key players—Naruto's Uzumaki bloodline and Sasuke's Sharingan.
The rest... were questionable. The Abura clan's insect techniques and the Inuzuka clan's beast jutsu had their charm, but unless one truly bonded with their summons or mastered the nuances, they weren't practical.
As for the Hyuga's Byakugan—don't even ntion it. In the hands of soone not born into the clan? Using it openly was asking for a silent execution.
The sa went for the Yamanaka, Akimichi, and Nara clan techniques. Even though Haruto technically bore the Yamanaka na, his imdiate family never once brought up passing down the clan's secret arts.
Haruto had long understood—bloodline techniques were sacred. Any attempt to "borrow" or "replicate" them without permission would lead to unending blood feuds.
After obtaining Murasa, Haruto didn't waste ti. He set his sights on a moderately challenging dungeon—Sasuke.
In the real world, Sasuke at the ti of graduation was arguably stronger than Naruto. But in dungeon simulations, every character was peak efficiency—their skills and battle instincts honed to perfection.
If Naruto could summon a thousand clones with perfect coordination, fighting him would be suicide unless one was near Jōnin-level or had overwhelming AoE jutsu.
Rock Lee was no joke either—just recalling how he clowned Sasuke during the Chūnin Exams made Haruto avoid that dungeon entirely for now.
Starting with Sasuke was a strategic move.
As expected, dungeon-Sasuke was at the level of a skilled Chūnin, well-rounded in taijutsu, ninjutsu, and even basic genjutsu. He wasn't overpowered, but his adaptability made him dangerous.
Even though Haruto had Murasa—whose cutting edge and chakra sensitivity gave him an advantage in close combat—Sasuke was quick. Too quick.
The Uchiha could create space with ease, striking from afar with fire-style jutsu and disrupting Haruto's rhythm with illusions.
In the end, Haruto was forced to retreat, wounded but not disheartened.
He was close. Victory was within reach.
For the next few months, Haruto didn't jump to the high-level dungeons. Instead, he trained relentlessly—sparring daily with Konohamaru and Udon.
His goal was simple: master the foundational ninjutsu.
Finally, after weeks of grinding chakra control and repetition, a ssage from the system flickered in his mind.
[Basic Ninjutsu Proficiency Achieved: Substitution and Clone Techniques Unlocked.]
He ford a hand seal.
"Substitution Jutsu!"
In a puff of smoke, he swapped places with a nearby log.
The casting speed had increased by 50%—a massive improvent.
Next, he ford the seals again.
"Clone Jutsu!"
Multiple perfect clones popped beside him, each identical.
More importantly—chakra consumption was now reduced by 80%.
This was finally usable in real combat.
At the sa ti, after countless hours of wielding Murasa, Haruto began to unlock its true potential.
Unlike most weapons, Murasa didn't rely on elental chakra or fancy seals.
Its power was born from killing intent.
A strange, invisible force in the shinobi world—the will to kill, the aura of one who has killed or is ready to kill.
Haruto learned to release it, shape it, and eventually infuse it into his strikes.
Enemies weakened in fear. Weaker minds froze. Even clones flickered and vanished.
He finally understood—Murasa was not just a sword.
It was an extension of will. Of intent. Of death.
According to the accounts of how Zabuza, Orochimaru, and the like could overwhelm others with nothing but killing intent, Haruto ca to the conclusion: That kind of aura wasn't just pressure—it was a kind of spiritual attack.
Murasa's abilities gradually beca clear as Haruto trained with it daily.
The first: Amplified Killing Intent—It heightens the wielder's bloodlust, putting psychological pressure on the enemy and dampening their combat ability. A simple but effective ability.
The second: Killing Intent Perception—Murasa could sense even the slightest malice directed at its wielder.
In battle, that was like having a full-ti sensory-type ninja by your side. Perfect defense against ambush.
The third—also the origin of Murasa's na—was its ability to draw moisture from the air using killing intent.
This moisture coats the blade, and once it enters a wound, it makes healing extrely difficult.
To most, this seed trivial.
After all, how many people could afford to slowly recover in battle?
But Haruto knew—Against certain monsters who could regenerate, delay could an everything.
These three powers alone made Murasa worth it.
And Haruto knew: This sword could still evolve.
"Haruto! This is the first ti I'm telling you—pay attention!"
Iruka's forehead veins were bulging again.
"Got it, sensei," Haruto replied calmly—without even looking up from the blade he was stroking in his lap.
Iruka gave up.
Ever since Haruto got his hands on Murasa, the two were basically glued together.
Eat? With Murasa. Sleep? Murasa's by the bedside. Bath? Towel in one hand, sword in the other. Bathroom? Don't even ask.
At first, it was just to build "weapon resonance," like in the ani and novels Haruto rembered.
But over ti, that bond beca real.
Murasa communicated with him—through aura, pulses, and the occasional vibe of "I like that slash you did."
A true partner. After class, the usual happened—Haruto and Sasuke got mobbed by half the girls in the Academy. But today, Haruto was tired.
With a smirk, he held Murasa in one hand and casually said, "Sorry, everyone... I already have soone I like."
Silence. Faces darkened. Sakura and Ino leaned closer.
Hinata at the corner almost fell out of her seat, her face as red as a tomato.
Please no. Hinata's heart scread. Don't say it... don't say it...
"She is—" Haruto paused dramatically, lifting Murasa.
"—in my hand."
"HUH?!" The girls shouted in unison.
"I've decided," Haruto continued solemnly, "My wife will be the sword. Her na is Murasa."
Shock, Despair.
He held Murasa like a princess bride, gazing at it lovingly.
Though Haruto was laughing inside, outside he wore the face of a stoic samurai. In a world where legendary ninja loved their blades like comrades—It was suddenly hard to tell if he was joking. And that scared the girls even more.
[Classroom – Afternoon]
After a while, several girls had clearly made up their minds again.
Girls (in unison):"I want to pull Haruto back from the wrong path!"
They sward around him.
Girls:"Haruto! Haruto!"
But Haruto didn't speak. He just looked at the blade in his hand — Murasa — in silence.
Naruto clicked his tongue in irritation. He'd always suspected sothing was going on between Haruto and Hinata behind everyone's backs. Seeing Haruto and Sasuke both brushing off the girls only made his mood worse.
Tch... I don't even have anyone. And these two jerks are just being picky! Naruto thought.
His eyes glead with mischief. He couldn't ss with Haruto — boss-level danger — but Sasuke? Fair ga.
Without warning, Naruto leapt onto Sasuke's desk and planted himself right in front of him.
"Sasuke! I challenge you! One-on-one, right now!"
"...Not interested in wasting my ti with the dead-last."
"W-what!? You bastard!!"
Haruto watched the two square up for the hundredth ti. The usual rivalry... but suddenly, he smirked." Hehe... let's spice things up a little."
With a flick of his finger, a small rock zipped across the room and nailed Naruto right on the butt.
"Ow—!!" and Naruto stumbled forward.
"Oi—!?"
Both lips t together, Ti stopped. The classroom fell silent. Then—
"GYAAAAAAAAAAAH!!" X2
They both dropped to the ground, retching in sync.
Haruto popped into fra beside them with a grin.
"Wow. I knew you two were close, but I didn't think that close. Spending all day together, always bickering like lovers... So this is what it was, huh?" Haruto said innocently.
Naruto & Sasuke both snapped, "WHO'S LOVERS WITH WHO!?"
The girls went wild. In a chaotic blur, Naruto took the brunt of it — fists and screams flying. Haruto stood there, arms crossed, watching the ss unfold.
Haruto (thoughtfully): "Did I go too far...? h. Worth it."
For the girls of Iruka's class, today was a tragic day. They didn't just lose one prince — they lost both.
[After School – Uchiha District]
It was rare to see him these days, but today was an exception. Itachi Uchiha walked ahead, calm as always. Sasuke saw him and imdiately dropped the cold act, face lighting up like a kid seeing his hero.
Sasuke (childishly): "Onii-chan~! Carry !"
Haruto blinked.
Haruto (deadpan): "...I'm going blind."
He couldn't believe it. The stoic Sasuke had just turned into a toddler in front of Itachi. Itachi knelt down calmly and let Sasuke hop onto his back.
Itachi said gently, "This is the last ti." Then, he turned to Haruto.
"Tomorrow's your day off, right? et at Training Ground Ten. I've got a mission coming up... might not get to train you again for a while."
Haruto stood quietly behind as Itachi hoisted Sasuke onto his back. The fading sunlight stretched their shadows along the dirt road.
The words echoed — not once, but twice. "Last ti."
Haruto's heart skipped. It's happening... right on schedule. So soon?
A chill ran down his spine. Sweat beaded at his brow. He looked at Itachi's serene, unreadable face — that flawless smile, calm as a still lake.
"There's no way to tell what he's really thinking... but my heart's twisting just looking at him."
He turned to Sasuke — beaming, innocent, unaware of the storm looming over his world.
"This... this is one of those events. A turning point. And I can't change anything. Not yet."
Lost in the weight of what was coming, Haruto didn't even notice when soone ran up beside him.
"Haruto~! too! Carry like that!" Ino pouted.
"Huh? Oh... okay." Haruto was still distracted and said.
"So half-hearted... You promised like I forced you."
As Haruto walked away with Ino trailing behind, Itachi glanced after him.
...Did he notice? Itachi thought.No... that's impossible. Just my imagination.
The wind rustled the leaves gently. In the distance, a crow cawed.
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