"Gather with your classmates into groups. We are going to conduct a taijutsu test now," one of the examiners loudly announced as he approached the gathered students.
Almost immediately after these words, the courtyard erupted in noise—everyone began quickly forming groups. There were about four classes, meaning around 120 students, if we count 30 in each.
"Not bad, quite organized… though I wonder how long this will last," I briefly thought, observing the general commotion.
"Do you see the circles?" one of the chunin shouted, pointing at the boundaries drawn on the ground.
"You must not step outside of them! This is part of the test."
Each examiner was assigned to one group—everything seemed to be well-organized. A man around twenty-five years old approached our group. He had been silent on the platform earlier, not participating in the briefing, but now he confidently led us forward.
"Let's go," he said, gesturing for us to follow.
We walked over to an area where a circle of 10 by 10 meters was marked on the ground. The examiner stopped at the edge of the circle, clasped his hands behind his back, and looked us over.
"To clarify, I'll repeat. Your task is to demonstrate your taijutsu skills within a couple of minutes. This is not a duel or a life-and-death fight. The main focus is technique, speed, reaction, and movement control. I will take notes and mark whether you pass or fail."
He paused for a moment to emphasize the importance of the next statement:
"Preferably, don't leave the boundaries of the circle. Violating the boundaries will affect your score, even if your technique is good. Try not to overdo it and injure each other—this is an exam, not a battlefield."
Then he glanced at his list and loudly said, "Aoi Rokushi. You're first."
"Yes, now!" the guy replied, stepping forward and jumping into the center of the circle.
The examiner stepped toward him.
"The rules are simple," he said calmly. "I attack, you defend. Then, we'll switch."
"Got it," Aoi nodded, clenching his fists tightly.
"Begin," the examiner commanded shortly.
He lunged forward almost silently. Aoi barely managed to raise his arms—his first block was precise, though it made his arms shake. Before he could catch his breath, the second attack came from below, hitting his torso and sending him a step back.
"Fast," I thought briefly.
The examiner moved flawlessly—as if he wasn't attacking but simply demonstrating possibilities. After about twenty seconds, Aoi began anticipating the strikes, blocking more confidently, even dodging a few times.
"Good. Now it's your turn," the examiner said, stepping back a pace.
Aoi moved forward, choosing the moment to strike to the side, then a low kick—though the examiner easily dodged it, acknowledging the movement with a nod. For the next half minute, Aoi attacked with quick series of strikes, testing the defense.
The examiner didn't respond with strikes, only blocking and evaluating.
"Stop," he finally said. "Return to the line. Not bad."
"Even though he's holding back, he's moving quite well," I noted to myself, watching the fight.
"Good thing I'm near the end of the list. I have time to observe their styles... adapt. This gives me an advantage."
The examiner glanced at his list.
"Guy Might."
The silence grew a bit thicker, even in the noisy crowd.
"YES, SIR!" he yelled with complete dedication, stepping into the circle and clenching his fists.
"I really wonder how the teacher will handle him," I muttered to myself, keeping my eyes on the scene. "Will he hold back? Or will he press harder?"
Guy immediately took a stance, spreading his legs wide and leaning forward, bouncing on his toes, as though his body was already begging for action.
The examiner nodded, keeping a neutral expression.
"Begin."
Guy lunged forward so quickly that the examiner had to step aside and raise his elbow to block. His arm jolted from the impact.
Guy didn't stop—he wasn't looking for tactics, just power. Every strike was forceful.
But even with that intensity, he lacked experience. His moves were powerful, but sometimes too straightforward. The examiner, though under pressure, read him like an open book.
At some point, toward the end of the time, the examiner suddenly shifted his stance, and Guy noticeably flinched, barely maintaining his balance. He simply dropped his arms and said:
"You passed."
There was no comment on the change in defense and attack positions—just a quick verdict.
And then, after a couple of minutes, my turn came.
"Kotetsu Hagane, you're next."
Something inside me clicked.
I nodded without saying a word and stepped into the circle. I assumed my stance—nothing fancy—basic defense, elbows tight, torso slightly forward. My heart beat steadily, but there was tension in my temples.
"Begin."
The examiner didn't waste a second. As soon as he said "begin," in the next instant, he shot forward—a sidestep, a feint, and then a lightning-fast punch to the liver.
But I hadn't just watched the previous fights—I had analyzed. Almost every time, his first attack was a sharp breakthrough meant to confuse and test the reaction.
I was expecting this.
I slightly shifted my body and lowered myself, my hand moved to intercept just in time. His punch grazed past, sliding along my forearm. Right after, an elbow strike to the chin? Predictable as well. I recoiled, rolled to the left, landing softly and already in stance.
He grunted.
"Watched carefully, huh?"
I didn't answer. I simply focused. No time for words.
He attacked again, more varied this time—a series of hand strikes followed by a sudden kick. Everything was fast, with minimal pauses. I held my ground. Not perfectly, but confidently enough to avoid taking a direct hit. He ramped up the tempo, but I kept up, reading the rhythm.
Then, sensing an opening, I went on the counterattack.
He expected defense—but I leapt forward. A feigned strike to the torso, a step to the side—and a low kick. He hopped to avoid the blow. I quickly spun, adding a light strike to the side—not powerful, but precise. He blocked, but staggered.
We both stopped, and silence fell. He looked at me intently, as though about to say something... but just noted something on his list and said:
"You passed."
About ten minutes later, it was all over. No one failed. Everyone did surprisingly well, and the examiner seemed quite satisfied, though he didn't allow us to relax.
"Well, we're done with the first test," he said with a slight nod, giving us no time to catch our breath. "Let's move on to the second."
"Technique demonstration," the examiner continued. "Show three techniques, then step aside."
He paused, and as we began to realize what he meant, he pulled something heavy and wooden from beneath his cloak—it was a log. He placed it in the center of the circle, as if giving us a hint.
"Use this for replacement," he said with a light smirk.
"Well, let's go in order..." the examiner said, scanning each of us with his gaze.
"No issues at this stage either, though some of your classmates had minor difficulties with some techniques, but still, the examiner marked 'passed'."
I silently watched my classmates finish their demonstrations.
"Looks like the village won't be too picky about who they recruit for military service," I thought to myself.
When it came to the final stage, the examiner casually said:
"Third stage: your additional technique or ability. Raise your hand if you have one."
There was an immediate pause in the class. About twenty people from our group raised their hands. I wasn't surprised. This was a more advanced class, and as I already knew, many of the students came from well-known ninja families. Each of them almost certainly had their own special technique or ability.
The examiner scanned those who raised their hands and, seemingly choosing in order, pointed at me.
"Well, let's go in order." His voice was even but with a hint of curiosity. "What have you got? Show us."
I sighed slightly, feeling all eyes now on me. Demonstrating my trump cards wasn't something I was keen on.
"Alright, but I'll need to step aside a bit," I said, moving a little to the side, away from my classmates. Looking at the examiner, I prepared my technique.
Over the past two months, I'd made good progress with this technique and was now ready to take a step forward. One of my main achievements was that I could now remove one of the connecting seals—this made the process smoother and allowed me to perform the technique faster and more efficiently.
Earlier, it had taken me five seals to perform the Great Gust, but now I could do it with just four, which gave me a speed advantage.
Mentally focusing, I began the hand seals:
— Tiger. My body moved instinctively, and chakra began gathering in the center.
— Ox. I felt the energy continuing to fill me.
— Dog. The chakra began accumulating faster, and I felt it vibrating within my body.
— Snake. The last seal. Now I was ready.
— Wind Element: Great Gust! I exhaled, releasing a powerful gust of wind. The wind shot out with such force that it moved the leaves and branches of nearby trees, and the trees themselves showed small cuts.
Earlier, when I had just started learning the Great Gust, I couldn't pinpoint where the mistake was. Now I knew: I was missing the "sharpening" phase—that crucial moment when the chakra is compressed into a precise, powerful flow. It's like a sharp, "cutting" gust that can slice, pierce, and leave marks. I realized I hadn't integrated that phase into the attack, which made the technique less destructive.
"Not bad," the teacher said, jotting something down. "Next."
The times were more militaristic, so the fact that some could wield elemental techniques before graduation wasn't so impressive. If I had such a technique before graduating in peaceful times...