vstars Chapter 514 Weapon Rack
Chapter 514 Weapon Rack
His movements were fluid yet powerful, sometimes as fast as lightning and as slow as flowing water, possessing a strange artistic beauty.
After the demonstration, Hatake Sakumo put the short sword back into the weapon rack.
He glanced at Zhang Hai, who was trying hard to imitate his movements, but didn't say anything more.
He remained silent for a moment, seemingly pondering something; this action lasted for about half a second.
"Practice on your own." He said this and turned to leave the dojo, leaving the entire space to Zhang Hai alone.
Zhang Hai was so engrossed in practicing his swordsmanship that he didn't notice the passage of time.
After an unknown amount of time, an aged figure silently appeared behind Sakumo Hatake.
The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, with his signature pipe dangling from his mouth, gazed intently at the sweating boy in the dojo.
"How is it?" he asked, a hint of inquiry in his voice. "How much potential does this kid have?"
Sakumo Hatake did not turn around; his gaze remained fixed on Zhang Hai.
"Unfathomable." He gave it a very high evaluation. "His talent, his temperament, his comprehension are all things I have never seen before." He paused, a complex emotion in his tone that even he himself had not noticed. "Even... above me." "Oh?" Hiruzen Sarutobi raised an eyebrow slightly. He clearly hadn't expected that the usually arrogant White Fang would give such an amazing evaluation.
An Uchiha with such potential, perhaps even surpassing White Fang…
...
Is this a blessing or a curse for the village?
He took out a sealed scroll from his pocket and handed it to Hatake Sakumo.
“In that case, perhaps you should take a look at this document.” His voice became somewhat solemn. “This is the oldest record about the Uchiha clan. It says that the power of the Uchiha comes from love, so only those who understand love can awaken the Sharingan, because love brings pain, and pain is the source of power.”
Sakumo Hatake took the heavy scroll, and he could feel a chill emanating from it, as if it came from the deepest abyss.
He didn't open it immediately, but just quietly watched the tireless figure in the dojo.
Hiruzen Sarutobi took a deep drag on his pipe, the smoke obscuring his wrinkled face.
“This child is too good at hiding himself.” His voice carried a barely perceptible worry. “He’s not as innocent as other children his age; his eyes hold a depth beyond his years.” He could feel a slight, slippery sensation on his fingertips, like touching damp moss. …
"In addition to his unsettlingly outstanding talent, I can't help but feel worried."
He turned his head and looked at Hatake Sakumo beside him, his eyes becoming extremely solemn.
“Sakumo, now that he’s become your student, I’m entrusting you with the important task of guiding him.” He took the pipe from his lips, tapped it lightly in his palm to remove the ash, and held the action for about half a second. “You must guide him onto the right path and make him understand the true meaning of the Will of Fire. If… if he shows any sign of straying from the right path, I hope you can be ruthless.” He didn’t finish his sentence, but the meaning behind it was clear to both of them.
“I believe in you.” Hiruzen Sarutobi’s tone softened again. He patted Sakumo Hatake on the shoulder. “I believe that with your abilities, you can definitely train an excellent student.” He looked up at the bright moon in the sky, as if he could see the future of the village through it. “The future of Konoha ultimately belongs to you young people.” As he spoke, a faint, slightly sour taste, like the fermentation of aged wine, rose on his tongue.
He took out another neatly folded garment from his pocket and handed it to Sakumo Hatake.
It was a red short-sleeved shirt with the words "Naruto" printed on the back.
"Take it." His voice held a hint of emotion and expectation. "Although you refused the position of Fourth Hokage, in my heart, you are still the most qualified person in the village to wear this robe. Because only the strongest can become Hokage, this robe represents the will of the village, and you possess the power to protect the village."
Sakumo Hatake silently accepted the short-sleeved shirt without saying a word.
The two stood there for a while longer, and then Hiruzen Sarutobi left quietly, just as he had come.
Sakumo Hatake glanced at the short-sleeved shirt in his hand, then at the figure in the dojo still tirelessly wielding a short sword, his expression becoming incredibly complex.
Zhang Hai was completely immersed in the world of swordsmanship. He forgot about time and fatigue, and only those thirteen basic movements remained in his mind.
Thrust, chop, flick, sweep...
...
He repeated it over and over, his clothes soaked with sweat, his arms aching so much he could barely lift them, but he didn't stop.
He gradually understood Sakumo Hatake's intention: to train his muscle memory and thoroughly imprint these thirteen movements into his body's instincts.
He gritted his teeth, determined to persevere until the very last moment when he collapsed from exhaustion.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but when he opened his eyes again, he found that it was already broad daylight.
The morning sunlight shone through the window lattice, illuminating the dust in the temple.
He found himself lying on the floor, covered with an oversized coat that didn't belong to him.
He struggled to sit up and saw that next to him, the white-haired little brat, Kakashi Hatake, was fast asleep, leaning against the wall, hugging a wooden sword taller than himself.
His little head bobbed up and down, and drool was almost dripping down his chest. He had obviously been guarding him here all night.
Looking at his adorable sleeping face, Zhang Hai felt a soft spot in his heart gently touched.
What he didn't notice was that while he was unconscious, a faint, almost imperceptible crimson glint flashed briefly in the depths of his dark pupils.
When Zhang Hai's consciousness broke free from the chaos, the first thing he saw was an unfamiliar ceiling.
He found himself lying in a clean and tidy bedroom, covered with a soft blanket.
The morning sunlight streamed through the window, bathing the room in a warm golden hue.
He could feel a faint, refreshing scent, like a mixture of mint and lemongrass, spreading through his mouth.
He turned his head slightly and saw that the white-haired little brat, Kakashi Hatake, was lying by his bedside, hugging a pillow that was about the same height as him, fast asleep.
Looking at his unguarded sleeping face, Zhang Hai felt a mischievous thought pop into his head again.