Fujimoto Tōma checked his condition and felt a surge of excitement.
It wasn't just the performance of his chakra blade. What surprised him more was how much chakra he still had left.
Nearly half.
From the moment he left the carriage to now, he'd barely wasted any time. The only detours had been quick, efficient kills of bandits who were hunting fleeing civilians.
In the past, clearing Mist genin quickly wasn't a problem. But dealing with chūnin at this pace would've forced him to rely on the Rasengan. And if he'd done that repeatedly, his chakra would've been drained dry by now. He would've needed soldier pills just to stay upright.
Yet here he was.
No pills used. Chakra still in reserve.
And that was with inefficient chakra control during his early chakra blade tests.
That alone told him everything he needed to know.
Chakra blades consumed far less chakra than the Rasengan, while offering more than enough killing power in most situations. That meant the Rasengan could safely remain a trump card.
He was never going to spam it like Uzumaki Naruto anyway.
Still, excitement didn't mean recklessness.
Tōma popped a soldier pill and calmly restored his chakra. Not because he was desperate, but because where he was heading next didn't allow mistakes.
The battlefield Tenzo was holding.
That was jonin-level territory.
And if he was going in, he was going in at full strength.
Tenzo watched his opponent carefully.
The Mist jonin in front of him was slippery. Not overwhelmingly powerful, but exceptionally good at staying alive.
Fortunately, Tenzo wasn't in a hurry.
Wood Release steadily constricted the battlefield, crushing escape routes one by one. From the start, Tenzo held the advantage. If this continued, the enemy would eventually be trapped.
Beating a jonin wasn't hard for him.
Killing one was.
That was the difference.
Normally, Tenzo would've pressed harder, using overwhelming force to end things quickly. But that approach often left openings for escape. And Tenzo would never abandon his squad just to chase a fleeing enemy.
Today was different.
Because Fujimoto Tōma was here.
With Tōma clearing the rear and securing the objective, Tenzo could afford patience. He could tighten the noose properly, sealing every path.
A faint smile crossed his face as he sensed a familiar presence nearby.
So the others were finished already.
That meant he was the one slowing things down.
Tenzo exhaled slowly, hands forming seals.
The Wood Release surged.
The Mist jonin cursed under his breath. This mission was supposed to be simple. Grab the meteor iron and leave. Instead, they'd run straight into Leaf shinobi. Worse, into Wood Release.
Wood Release. Of all things.
From the first exchange, he'd known he couldn't win. All he could do was defend and search for an opening to escape. But his opponent was maddeningly calm, giving him nothing.
Like a cat toying with prey.
Now it felt different.
The pressure increased. The battlefield shifted.
And then—
A gap.
Tiny. Almost imperceptible.
But it was there.
Hope flared in the Mist jonin's eyes.
Above them, Tōma observed quietly from a high vantage point. Watching the violent surge of Wood Release, he felt a flicker of awe. If he were fighting Tenzo head-on, teleportation would be his only option.
And Tenzo knew about his Flying Thunder God.
Which meant his marked kunai would never get close in a straight fight.
No wonder this man would later be trusted to temporarily take Kakashi's place.
Tōma's attention sharpened as he saw the jonin latch onto the opening.
Sharp eyes. Good instincts.
Too bad.
You don't know I'm here.
Lightning crackled across Tōma's arm and along the kunai in his hand. He hadn't perfected a lightning assassination technique yet, but the development process hadn't been wasted.
He threw.
The kunai vanished with a sharp crack of displaced air, moving faster than sound.
Speed solved many problems.
Including noise.
The Mist jonin sensed it instantly. Even under relentless pressure, a jonin's awareness didn't dull. He twisted aside, barely avoiding the projectile, and instinctively traced its trajectory.
But there was no one there.
Cold terror crawled up his spine.
Too late.
Tōma never expected a single kunai to kill a jonin. The moment it missed, he activated Flying Thunder God and appeared behind his target.
And with him came the finisher.
"Rasengan."
Tōma drove the spiraling chakra sphere into the jonin's back. No wind nature. No enhancements. Just pure rotation, condensed and brutal.
The scream was short.
The jonin's hands fell before he could complete a single seal. The internal damage was catastrophic. His body collapsed, smashed into the ground by the force of the impact.
Tōma stood there, breathing hard.
The entire exchange had lasted only seconds, but the burst had drained most of his remaining chakra.
Still—
It was worth it.
Even weakened. Even pressured. Even with Tenzo's assistance.
That man had been a real jonin.
And in this era, jonin weren't disposable.
Tōma straightened, exhaustion giving way to quiet satisfaction.
His first jonin kill.
No one could take that from him.