Bab 4: ch4
As Daikuro and his group walked into the courtyard, the chatter died down. All eyes turned toward an old man stepping onto a stage, perfectly positioned for everyone to see.
"Hiruzen," Daikuro thought.
The crowd's attention shifted as he moved further onto the stage, his cloak swaying lightly in the air.
Finally, Hiruzen stopped, standing in the center, looking out at the crowd with a kind smile.
His voice, soft at first, carried effortlessly across the courtyard. "Many of you stand here today, uncertain of what tomorrow will bring. Some may wonder what the future holds for this village, for its people. But in times of doubt, there is one thing you must always remember."
He paused, scanning the faces before him. "The Will of Fire."
His eyes glowed with warmth and conviction, as if the very words stirred something deep within him.
"The Will of Fire is more than a phrase. It is the heart of our village, a flame passed down from generation to generation. It represents the bond we all share, the love we have for our village and for each other. It is what drives us to fight—not for ourselves, but for the safety of those we care for."
His voice grew firmer, more resolute. "Our strength comes not from our individual abilities, but from our unity, our willingness to protect and sacrifice for one another. That is what makes Konoha strong."
Hiruzen's gaze softened, his smile returning, a little more wistful this time. "Every time a new leaf blooms, it carries with it the legacy of those who came before, just as each of you carries that flame now. And as long as the Will of Fire burns within our hearts, no enemy, no hardship, will ever extinguish it."
He took a breath, his presence commanding yet gentle. "Remember this: we are not just a village of shinobi. We are a family. And as long as even one of us carries the Will of Fire, Konoha will endure."
The crowd remained silent, captivated by the old man's words, each feeling the warmth of that fire flickering inside them, lighting the path ahead.
As Hiruzen's speech ended, the crowd soaked in his words, but Daikuro barely listened. His blood pulsed with a different kind of fire—one that wasn't about unity or bonds. No, his flame was fueled by something more primal.
Fighting.
His eyes swept the courtyard, landing on a group of Uchiha kids near the front. They stood proud, their eyes sharp and filled with a smugness that set Daikuro's teeth on edge. He knew their type—entitled, arrogant, believing their bloodline made them untouchable.
Perfect.
He wasn't looking for peace. He was looking for a fight.
Whispering to Minato, he asked, "You got my back, right?"
"Huh? What are you talking about?" Minato replied, unsure why he was being asked.
"Just answer the question."
Still confused, Minato responded, "Yeah... I guess."
He'd soon find out. Daikuro raised his voice, loud enough for the crowd to hear him.
"You know," he began, slicing through the stillness that followed Hiruzen's speech, "The Will of Fire—it sounds great and all. But some people… they think their clan's name is enough to make them strong."
The crowd shifted uneasily, several students casting wary glances. Daikuro continued, undeterred.
"They hide behind their clans, thinking their legacy alone makes them untouchable. It's kind of funny when you think about it. They forget that true strength isn't inherited. It's earned."
A few kids stiffened, their pride stung by his words.
"Some shinobi," he said, voice dripping with mockery, "they think that just because they've got a special little gift, it gives them the right to look down on the rest of us. But gifts... well, gifts can be broken. Or worse—they can blind you."
Gasps rippled through the courtyard, tension rising. Several Uchiha kids shot Daikuro sharp glances, his words biting despite their veil.
"After all," he added, his tone darkening, "what's power if you don't know how to wield it? What's a legacy if it's built on arrogance?"
His smirk widened, eyes gleaming with the promise of chaos. The jabs were aimed precisely where he wanted.
Minato, standing next to him, turned pale. His head slowly swiveled toward Daikuro, eyes wide with alarm.
"Erm, Daikuro, w—" he began, whispering as if to question why he'd say such things.
But before he could finish, an angry voice cut through the air, laced with fury.
"If you're jealous, then blame your luck for having useless parents," an older Uchiha kid sneered, he looked only to be a year or so older.
The quiet snickering of other Uchiha kids filled the courtyard.
Undeterred, Daikuro smirked back. His voice dripped with mockery. "Jealous? Why would I be jealous of a weakling?" The disdain in his voice was unmistakable.
"Even with all the hand-holding you've had, you still don't amount to anything—just more cannon fodder. I guess the Uchiha really is just a name."
The words stung, the Uchiha kids' faces flushed with anger. Even some adults narrowed their eyes at him.
The older kid frowned, his face darkening as he rolled up his sleeves.
"Everyone move aside, looks like someone needs to be taught a lesson!" the Uchiha screamed.
Following his words, the crowd parted, leaving Daikuro and the Uchiha alone in the circle.
All the while, the Hokage stood on his platform, his gaze fixed on the commotion, amusement flickering in his eyes.
"Are you serious?" Daikuro questioned, his tone dripping with disbelief.
The Uchiha kid smirked. "What, getting scared now?" he mocked.
Daikuro chuckled, his eyes gleaming with dangerous excitement. "Scared? What's that? Can I eat it?"
He didn't bother waiting for a response. He started walking toward his opponent with a lazy confidence, as if daring the Uchiha to make the first move. The Uchiha, face twisted with anger, took the bait, sprinting forward in a burst of speed.
With a snarl, the Uchiha launched a powerful kick aimed at Daikuro's chest.
Daikuro didn't even flinch. He simply stepped to the right, rotating his torso slightly so the kick sailed harmlessly past him, missing by mere inches. His smirk widened.
The Uchiha landed smoothly, both feet back on the ground, and immediately launched a barrage of attacks—hooks, straights, overhands, and kicks. His strikes came fast and relentless, each one aimed to take Daikuro down.
But none of them landed.
Daikuro moved with an almost inhuman precision, his body weaving and ducking between each strike. His feet barely shifted, his movements subtle yet perfectly timed. The punches whizzed past his face by a hair's width, the kicks missing him by mere fractions of an inch. And through it all, that mocking grin never left his face.
He wasn't just dodging—he was toying with his opponent.
"Is that all you've got?" Daikuro taunted, his voice light and teasing as if he were in the middle of a casual conversation.
The Uchiha growled in frustration, his attacks growing more desperate. He threw another wild punch, but this time, Daikuro didn't dodge. Instead, he stepped forward, ducking under the Uchiha's arm and spinning smoothly behind him. Before the Uchiha could react, Daikuro struck.
A sharp kick slammed into the back of the Uchiha's knee, buckling his leg and sending him crashing to the ground.
The crowd gasped, but Daikuro wasn't done. Moving like a predator pouncing on its prey, he dropped down, locking his arm around the Uchiha's neck in a choke hold. The Uchiha thrashed, but Daikuro's grip was iron-tight.
Leaning in close to his struggling opponent, Daikuro's voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible to the crowd. "You know what's funny?" he murmured, his tone dripping with amusement. "I'm just getting started."
The Uchiha's face turned red as he struggled to break free, but it was no use. Daikuro tightened the hold just enough to let him know who was in control, savoring the chaos he'd created.
Daikuro's grip around the Uchiha tightened, feeling the boy's strength fading beneath his hold. But just as victory seemed certain, he sensed movement behind him.
It seemed his opponent had a trick up his sleeve. Something that could change the tide of the battle...
His lackeys! (sarcasm)
A chorus of boos came from the crowd as a group of Uchiha lackeys charged toward Daikuro, clearly intending to free their leader. The fastest of them closed in, circling behind Daikuro. Their footsteps were far from stealthy, but Daikuro didn't flinch, didn't even bother looking over his shoulder.
He didn't need to.
Bam!
In an instant, one of the Uchiha lackeys was sent flying, a blur of yellow hair following in his wake.
Daikuro chuckled darkly.
He had a "lackey" of his own.
Minato stood behind the fallen Uchiha, his stance calm yet confident, dusting off his hands as if he'd barely broken a sweat.
Seeing Minato take down the approaching lackey, Daikuro turned his attention back to the boy in his grip, tightening his hold with a sinister grin. The Uchiha's struggling grew weaker until his body finally went limp.
Daikuro released him, letting him crumple to the ground unconscious. He straightened, rolling his shoulders before turning toward Minato, his face still plastered with that wild, almost manic smile.
"Thanks," he said, his voice casual, as if they weren't standing in the middle of a battlefield of their own making.
Minato scratched the back of his head sheepishly, offering a small grin. "Well, I can't go back on my word, can I?"
The contrast between Daikuro's manic energy and Minato's calm, easygoing nature couldn't have been more stark, but together, they made a formidable pair. The crowd stared, unsure whether to be impressed or disturbed by Daikuro's performance, while the remaining Uchiha hesitated, clearly reconsidering their next move.
Daikuro's smile only widened.
Without warning, he swung toward Minato, his fist cutting through the air, aimed straight for the blonde's head. Minato's eyes widened, but his reflexes kicked in. He shifted to the side just in time, narrowly avoiding the punch.
But Daikuro's strike wasn't for him.
Crack!
His fist collided with another—an Uchiha lackey who had been sneaking up behind Minato, waiting for the right time to strike. The impact sent a shockwave through the air as the two fists connected, the Uchiha stumbling back in shock.
— Bab baru akan segera rilis — Tulis ulasan
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone