"Hmm..."
Sarutobi Ryo blinked, the world spinning around him. A sharp, aching pain shot through his body, and it took a moment for his mind to catch up with reality. The training he'd received as a ninja kicked in immediately. His body moved before his thoughts could fully process the situation—pushing him to his feet, alert and on edge.
But when his eyes focused on the scene before him, the full weight of what was happening crashed down.
Dead bodies. Everywhere.
The air was thick with the smell of blood, so strong it almost made him gag. Smoke billowed through the trees, choking the air, clinging to the earth like a heavy fog.
The setting sun cast everything in a red glow, like the land itself was bleeding.
Ryo shook his head, trying to shake the haze from his mind. The explosion had stunned him, but his thoughts were clearing now.
This was the battlefield at the end of the Second Ninja World War.
Ryo had been here for over a decade now—far longer than he had ever expected. A time traveler in a world torn apart by conflict. The son of the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, older brother to Asuma, and a former classmate of Minato Namikaze. He had been raised to fight, trained to survive. But no amount of training had prepared him for the reality of war.
Years had passed since he first came to this world. As a child, he had never imagined it would come to this—fighting for survival every day. He had watched many comrades fall, too many to count. His heart was heavy, and his thoughts were conflicted. But in the end, he kept fighting because there was no other choice.
The "Hidden Sky Village" had joined the war in its later stages, thinking it could take advantage of the chaos and conquer the ninja world. Now, Ryo found himself part of Konoha's counterattack against them.
Looking around, Ryo couldn't help but frown. The faces of his comrades, people he had fought alongside, were gone. The operation had failed, and almost everyone had died in the chaos.
War was unforgiving.
But what made it worse, what made his blood boil more than the violence itself, was Konoha's hypocrisy. The village was built to protect its people, to shield children from war's horrors. Yet, here they were—sending children like him to die in battles that had nothing to do with survival.
The Second Ninja World War wasn't about protecting anyone. It was about plunder—Konoha, Iwagakure, Sandagakure, Kumogakure, and Kirigakure all exploiting the smaller nations. It was a war of aggression.
And as someone from a world that had condemned such violence, Ryo felt disgusted.
His mind was in turmoil, frustration building with every passing moment. But that frustration would soon have to wait—because a new sound reached his ears.
Cracks. The unmistakable sound of people stirring.
Three figures emerged from the smoke and the carnage, each moving slowly, clearly dazed from the explosion that had knocked them out earlier. But they were not wearing Konoha's symbol. No, these were ninjas from the Hidden Sky Village—the enemy.
The odds were against him. He was alone. The enemy outnumbered him.
A chill washed over him, a cold murderous aura filling the air, making his skin crawl.
The three enemies fixed their eyes on him, their stares sharp and filled with hostility. It was clear they weren't going to let him get away.
A battle was coming.
Ryo's breath slowed, and his mind raced. He didn't have many options. The best move, the smart move, would be to retreat into the forest—use the trees and the undergrowth to his advantage and take them on one by one. But his teammates were injured. He couldn't leave them. He couldn't abandon them.
"Master..."
The voice cut through the tension like a knife. It was faint, strained, but familiar.
Ryo turned his head. There, lying on the ground, was the girl with the golden ponytail, struggling to lift her head. Beside her, the other girl—her eyes a pale shade of white—was barely moving.
They had been with him since their Genin days, and now they were both hurt, vulnerable.
Ryo's heart twisted. His Jonin instructor had been the first to die, torn apart in the early moments of the battle. Now, with their numbers dwindling, it was up to him to decide: should he run and leave them behind, or should he fight, knowing the odds were against him?
Without even thinking, his decision was made.
He didn't step back. He stepped forward.
Ryo clenched his fists, settling into the stance he'd been taught in Konoha. The Konoha fluid technique. He wasn't trying to impress anyone, wasn't trying to be a hero. This wasn't about that. It was about survival. About protecting those who mattered.
"Take my punch, and I'll spare your life."
The three ninjas from the Hidden Sky Village scoffed at him. They were adults, clearly thinking he was just a child—no match for them, no threat. Their smirks told him everything he needed to know.
But Ryo had inherited more than just his father's name. His strength was not something they could dismiss so easily.
He moved in a flash, his fist crashing into one of the enemy ninjas. The force of the blow was like a shockwave—bones shattered with a sickening crack, and the body was sent flying, slamming into a tree and collapsing to the ground, lifeless.
The other two stood frozen, their eyes wide in shock.
The Sarutobi blood ran deep. Strength was in his veins.
But even as the power surged through him, Ryo's body began to betray him. He coughed violently, blood spilling from his mouth. The effort of the punch had taken its toll—his body was already exhausted, and the battle was far from over.
"He's done! Finish him!" one of the remaining enemies shouted, pulling out his kunai and charging toward Ryo.
Ryo struggled to remain standing, his vision beginning to blur, his breath ragged. But even in his weakened state, something sparked in him. A fire that wouldn't be extinguished.
"The true Will of Fire…" he whispered to himself. "It's not just about fighting… it's about protecting those you care about. I'll never forget that."
His hands moved quickly, forming seals, pulling chakra from deep within himself. His body screamed in protest, but he pushed through. Some things were worth dying for.
The fire of the Sarutobi clan burned brightly.
"Fire Style—"
He didn't have much time. His chakra surged, his energy draining faster than it could replenish. But he didn't care. The flames would burn bright, no matter what.
"Great Flame Technique!"
A wall of fire erupted from Ryo's chest, engulfing the two remaining enemies in a searing inferno. The heat was unbearable. Their screams were quickly silenced as the flames consumed them, reducing them to nothing.
But Ryo wasn't finished yet. His body crumpled, his strength finally spent. His world spun as his vision faded to black.
"Master!" The voice of his teammate cried out, but it felt like it came from miles away.
Just as he felt his consciousness slipping, a clear voice echoed in his mind.
[The true Will of Fire!]
[System Activation...]
[System successfully loaded!]
[Welcome to The Road to Naruto! The Will of Fire System!]