The second wave to arrive was the Konoha Military Police Force.
In other words, the Uchiha Clan.
"The Mud Wall is hot underfoot," Sakumo Hatake warned as the Uchiha prepared to charge up and take over.
Fugaku Uchiha merely curled his lip.
Hot?
He didn't take it seriously.
Now in his twenties and already vice-captain of the Konoha Military Police Force, he was at an age where a ninja ought to be mature.
And yet, whether it was the Uchiha bloodline or simply the fact that life had yet to grind down his edges, he still carried a trace of youthful bravado.
The elders in the clan liked to say that once his son was born, he would finally grow up.
Fugaku disagreed.
Raising a son? He had never done it, but how hard could it be?
"Hot? The Uchiha don't fear heat. Even if it burns, it's just part of training," he thought as he leapt onto the Mud Wall.
The rest of the Uchiha followed suit.
Sakumo raised an eyebrow, silently coating his sandals in chakra before stepping up beside Fugaku.
The moment Fugaku landed, he regretted it.
He had assumed it would only be mildly warm. From the other side, the wall had looked intact enough.
Ninjas endured pain as part of their training. Self-inflicted hardship was nothing new.
But when he glanced down—
The center of the earthen wall had already melted into something resembling magma, thick and viscous, radiating searing heat upward.
"What an exquisite Fire Style. Is this the Third Hokage's work? Even a wall this thick can be melted through?"
He discreetly began gathering chakra to his feet.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sakumo watching him. The White Fang's brows twitched ever so slightly.
"Hot, isn't it?" Sakumo said with a mild, almost absent expression. "Better reinforce yourself with chakra."
Fugaku wanted to keep up the act, but when he saw that even his clan members were on the verge of losing their composure, he gave a stiff nod.
"Sakumo-sama is right."
Behind their masks, the Anbu were grinning.
So this was the famed Uchiha pride meeting quiet mockery.
Fugaku activated his Sharingan. The fluctuations of chakra in the field drew his attention.
"What jutsu is that?" he muttered.
In his vision, Hiruzen Sarutobi was covered from head to toe in a layer of pitch-black hardness, including the staff in his hand. He looked like a living weapon forged from black steel.
"Feels like some kind of Earth Style. A hardening technique, perhaps?"
Sakumo analyzed seriously. "Judging by Hokage-sama's posture, he's maintaining full-body coverage at all times. Similar to the Hidden Cloud's Lightning Style armor."
"Wouldn't that restrict movement?"
Fugaku frowned. "Most Earth Style hardening techniques come with that drawback. And channeling Earth Style chakra usually interferes with other jutsu…"
He hesitated.
"And keeping it active constantly would consume a lot of chakra. Hokage-sama…"
He stopped mid-sentence.
No matter how you framed it, commenting on the Hokage's chakra reserves was dangerous territory.
Sakumo blinked at him with honest curiosity. "You mean Hokage-sama doesn't have enough chakra?"
Fugaku pressed a hand to his forehead.
Who said Sakumo was rigid and dull? From Fugaku's perspective, he was clearly a white-on-the-outside, black-on-the-inside type.
"I didn't say that. I meant—"
He fell silent.
Shinnosuke Sarutobi glanced at him in surprise.
The Uchiha Clan was hard to judge.
They liked to act cool and aloof, yet their social awareness was questionable. Two sentences in, and they were already implying the Hokage was too old to maintain multiple jutsu.
And yet, they were reliable. Their response speed matched the Anbu. The Military Police had done their duty.
It was as if they wanted to rebel, but lacked the conviction.
Meanwhile, the technique Hiruzen was using—what he privately called "Earth Style: Iron Skin, Full-Time Coverage"—was indeed a hardening jutsu, complete with the usual drawbacks.
For others.
For Hiruzen, whose chakra was abundant and whose mastery of the five nature transformations was flawless, those limitations meant nothing.
"A ninja's body is too fragile. Like a glass cannon," he thought.
"I must protect myself at all times. Not a single drop of chakra should be wasted where it counts."
He inhaled deeply and exhaled a vast cloud of smoke that blanketed the Rashomon formation.
Fire Style chakra gathered at his fingertips. Flames erupted.
"Fire Style: Burning Ash!"
The ash-filled inferno spread through the smoke, slipping past the Rashomon gates without being obstructed.
Sakumo's eyes lit up. "The hardening hasn't hindered him at all. He can still freely use the five nature transformations."
"As expected of Hokage-sama," Fugaku nodded, his Three Tomoe Sharingan fixed on Orochimaru. Then he muttered under his breath, "That vitality… he's practically a monster."
Within his Sharingan's sight, Orochimaru shed his skin repeatedly under the flames, slithering across the ground unharmed.
Was that even human?
"Oh? You were about to say something?" Sakumo asked again, curiosity written all over his face.
"No, no, Sakumo-sama. I wasn't going to say anything," Fugaku replied darkly.
Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut?
Would marriage really fix this?
The Anbu were struggling not to laugh.
First implying the Hokage was old. Then suggesting Orochimaru wasn't human.
Truly the Uchiha and their sharp tongues.
Inside the field—
Hiruzen formed two seals in an instant. A massive water vortex shot skyward.
Water and fire collided. Scalding steam exploded outward.
The Rashomon gates, already structurally weakened by intense heat, contracted sharply under the sudden cold. Cracks spiderwebbed across their surfaces.
Hiruzen lifted his staff, chakra spiraling around it, and charged straight into the steam.
Wind Style infused the weapon. He swung.
The shockwave alone shattered multiple Rashomon gates into fragments.
Fugaku's Three Tomoe captured the image, but his brain lagged behind.
From his perspective, Hiruzen had charged into boiling steam and casually flattened everything in a single strike.
…What?
That scene was also witnessed by Danzo Shimura and Root, by Jiraiya carrying Asuma and Kakashi, and by Tsunade.
"Oh no, the old man's furious! He's going to clean house and kill that snake!" Jiraiya went pale, tossing the two boys toward Sakumo before rushing forward. "Don't kill him! Old man, hold it!"
"He doesn't deserve death!"
Sakumo promptly handed the boys off to Shinnosuke.
Asuma and Kakashi were passed around like parcels, powerless to resist.
In that moment, Kakashi—hailed as the Ninja Academy's greatest prodigy—felt the crushing weight of the gap between students and veteran jonin.
Asuma felt it too.
Sakumo blocked Jiraiya in an instant. "Hokage-sama has not authorized entry."
Jiraiya jumped anxiously. "What if he really kills him? Be flexible, Sakumo-sama!"
Fugaku's expression turned solemn.
Sakumo's speed was so great that even his Three Tomoe Sharingan struggled to track it.
In close combat…
"Fame is never undeserved," he thought.
Yet as he watched Sakumo stand firm before Jiraiya, hand resting near the White Fang at his waist while silently warning Tsunade with his gaze, Fugaku couldn't help but critique inwardly.
"This is a family matter. Blocking others like that… that's bound to offend someone."
Then he remembered the ferocity of Hiruzen's strikes and winced.
"Didn't the clan head say the Third Hokage was old? Old where?"
"With a strike like that, even Susanoo would have trouble tanking it."
Danzo stared, stunned.
Wasn't Hiruzen crushed by the pressure of the Hokage's seat?
This vitality… it rivaled his own peak.
What was going on?
Did a serious illness lead to enlightenment? Or had some former Hokage possessed him?
Should he catch a fever himself and see what happened?
Midair, Hiruzen formed seals again.
"Earth Style: Mobile Core!"
A massive slab of earth surged upward. Orochimaru, hidden within, was forced into view.
His guerrilla strategy had failed.
But the match wasn't over.
Teacher and student met each other's gaze.
No need to stop.
Orochimaru reached into his own throat and pulled out a finely crafted blade. He slashed at Hiruzen and shouted, "You idiot, Jiraiya! Stay back! Don't interfere in my spar with Teacher!"
"You can come down too. I'll measure you while I'm at it," Hiruzen shot back, swinging his staff.
Jiraiya wilted instantly. Then he perked up again. "Old man, beat that snake to death!"
The clash shifted to pure weapons.
Blade and staff collided. Orochimaru's pupils narrowed.
"When did the old man get this strong? He's not much weaker than Tsunade in raw power…"
His body rippled unnaturally, dispersing the force through waves along his skin.
That was thanks to his Soft Body Modification technique.
If anyone else tried that, internal bleeding would be the least of their worries.
"Well done, boy. Immune to blades, untouched by water and fire…"
Hiruzen grew more exhilarated by the second. The thrill of wielding overwhelming power, the novelty of witnessing diverse jutsu—it was intoxicating.
"Try this!"
Chakra flooded into his staff. He brought it down with all his strength.
Boom!
The instant their weapons met, Orochimaru sensed danger. He twisted aside, redirecting the force, but was still blasted through the air.
The staff smashed into the earth, leaving a massive crater. Dirt and rock erupted skyward.
Fugaku wrinkled his nose, baring his teeth in awe.
No wonder the Uchiha had fallen behind the Hokage's faction.
Look at this intensity.
Anyone unaware would think this was an execution.
Real steel. Real blood.
When he had a son, he would raise him the same way.
Throw him onto the battlefield young. Let him feel the true weight of the ninja world.
"Teacher, your surname is Sarutobi, not Senju," Orochimaru thought dryly as he lay on the ground.
He opened his mouth wide. A giant snake shot from his throat, lunging at Hiruzen.
Viscous fluid dripped from its body. Where it touched the earth, it sizzled like acid.
More jonin arrived, along with waves of chunin and genin. The Ino-Shika-Cho trio was among the first of this batch.
"Good timing!"
Whether he meant the reinforcements or Orochimaru's attack was unclear.
Hiruzen stepped forward and punched the snake's head without hesitation.
It exploded in a spray of flesh and blood.
From the lower half, a fresh Orochimaru emerged and drove a punch into Hiruzen's abdomen.
Hiruzen didn't dodge. He countered with his own fist.
They traded blows, both retreating several steps.
Hiruzen glanced around. Most had arrived.
He ceased his assault.
"Youth's strength is terrifying. That punch will leave this old man sore for days," he said, rubbing his ribs, wincing honestly. "I'm not built like you youngsters anymore. You hurt, old student?"
"Teacher, don't you think that's a little insulting?" Orochimaru's lips were smeared with blood, the contrast oddly comical. "Whose fists are stronger here? I'm human too. If I'm coughing blood, that counts as injured."
"Of course you are. I'm just a frail old shell," Hiruzen chuckled, giving him a thumbs-up. "That technique earlier was impressive. Teach me sometime."
His eyes gleamed. "Yang nature transformation blended with form change? And a trace of Summoning Jutsu in there…"
He was referring to Orochimaru's snake-based substitution.
Orochimaru's expression turned complicated.
For the first time in a long while, he almost missed the stubborn old man Hiruzen used to be.
Somewhere deep inside, a thought stirred.
If the so-called Professor of Ninjutsu began stacking techniques onto himself the way Orochimaru did…
That could become terrifying.
"Time wasn't up, but your growth pleases me."
"Well done, Orochimaru."
Hiruzen approached, loosening his shoulders. One hand pressed against his own bruised side. The other rested against Orochimaru's injured chest. Gentle green light blossomed from his palm.
Orochimaru's eyes flicked toward the onlookers. He smiled faintly.
"If Teacher had gone all out in this state, I would have lost face today."
"Stopping now. Healing me publicly…"
That was a clear show of respect. And it left room for interpretation.
Who claimed Orochimaru and the Third Hokage were drifting apart?
Did they not see this scene?
A benevolent father. A devoted son.
Clearly, master and disciple were as close as ever.
"You won, but I'm taking the bell. I'm used to carrying it," Hiruzen said as he carefully returned it to his pouch.
Orochimaru's smile widened.
At that moment, Hizashi Hyuga of the Hyuga Clan arrived. The Anbu, Root, and others who had come earlier cast him meaningful looks.
The Hyuga, with their Byakugan, should have been the first to detect events within the village. Their taijutsu prowess meant their speed was formidable.
So why were they late?
Hizashi swallowed his frustration.
Village rules. Clan rules.
As a branch house member, he had no authority to decide independently.
He had detected the disturbance immediately, but protocol demanded reporting to the Hyuga Main House and awaiting a decision.
The back-and-forth cost time.
This generation of the Hyuga Main House favored neutrality. They avoided village affairs unless war erupted.
Seeing the match end, Homura Mitokado and Koharu Utatane arrived with the third wave of shinobi.
Koharu stepped forward. "Hiruzen, what are you doing—"
She had meant to ask why he caused such a commotion without consulting them.
Hiruzen's gaze turned sharp.
"Advisor. Address me by my title while on duty. And now is not your turn to speak."
Koharu fell silent under that stern look.
Hiruzen formed seals again.
"Earth Style: Dark Swamp!"
The training ground transformed into a mire. Fragments of Rashomon gates and the remains of countless snakes were dragged into the depths.
Then blazing red-white Fire Style scorched the earth at full power.
In moments, the swamp dried.
Razor-sharp Wind Style sliced the ground smooth.
The training field was restored—clean and level.
"The old man's chakra reserves are terrifying," Orochimaru murmured, watching Hiruzen stand there without even breathing hard.
It looked like cleanup.
But if that barrage had been aimed at people?
How many shinobi could survive such wide-scale jutsu?
A walking battlefield.
Others were thinking the same.
Chunin and genin stared at Hiruzen with open admiration.
Asuma gaped. "Since when was Dad this strong? He's way scarier than my teacher."
A middle-aged ninja in a green jumpsuit with thick brows burst into tears. "Hokage-sama! Is this the Hokage's youth? I feel like I'm on fire!"
The flashy outfit caught Hiruzen's eye. He nodded kindly.
Danzo, meanwhile, spiraled inward.
"Cunning Hiruzen. When did he cultivate some Yang-based secret technique? He's practically rejuvenated."
"He wore the Hokage hat that day. I didn't even notice."
Hiruzen clasped his hands behind his back and sighed.
"Still getting old…"
He took out his signature pipe, lit it, and inhaled deeply.
Then his voice rang out.
"All shinobi present—assemble!"
In an instant, they gathered before him.
Not just out of respect for the title of Hokage.
But out of reverence for overwhelming strength.
Hiruzen took it all in.
Just as he expected.
In a world of shinobi, relationships and authority mattered. But power was inseparable from them.
He prepared his words.
The speech to come—that was the true centerpiece of this spar.
Everything before this had merely set the stage.