Naruto: My Progress in Konoha.

"Huh?"

In the sky above—

Uchiha Haruki's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched his opponent narrowly evade his Wind Blade technique.

That attack had been aimed with perfect timing, launched the moment he saw the opening.

By all rights, it shouldn't have missed.

Then again, shinobi never acted according to logic. More often than not, they thrived by making the impossible happen.

So the fact that his target dodged the strike wasn't that surprising.

No matter. Haruki hadn't intended to kill him outright anyway. If the man evaded, so be it.

As long as the others didn't possess the same reflexes, that was enough.

With that, Haruki turned to another Mist chunin. His hands flashed through hand seals.

Wind Style: Wind Blade!

This technique had long since been mastered to its peak. The speed and subtlety of the blade it produced far outmatched most standard jutsu.

Before the Mist chunin even realized the threat, it was too late.

Shlick!

The invisible blade sliced through him at the waist, cutting his body clean in two. The scream that followed was short and bloodcurdling.

Seeing his fate, the other Mist shinobi felt fear claw at their hearts. They braced themselves with grim determination.

But Haruki wasn't finished.

Without pause, he launched a second Wind Blade.

This time, a Mist genin was targeted. He noticed the attack just in time to try evading, but the wind caught him anyway—cleaving off his right leg.

The injury was critical. He was no longer a combatant and now required support from allies.

Two effective combatants were eliminated in the blink of an eye.

"Damn it! Counterattack!"

A Mist jonin barked from below.

The Mist shinobi sprang into action, throwing kunai and shuriken or launching ninjutsu and genjutsu in retaliation.

But Haruki, soaring through the air with flight-enhancing ninjutsu, moved like a fish through water. None of their attacks could reach him.

He darted, dodged, dipped, and weaved through their efforts, retaliating with further jutsu.

More Mist shinobi fell.

Individually, these casualties were minor, but to morale, the impact was devastating.

Imagine it—an enemy who could strike at will, yet remain untouchable.

That kind of despair ate away at them.

Fortunately, Haruki didn't continue his assault indefinitely. After scattering their formation with a series of punishing strikes, he abruptly veered off and soared away.

"He's gone!"

Someone in the Mist ranks shouted, and the cry rippled through the ranks.

Relief surged. No one said it aloud, but they'd been terrified.

Now that he was gone, their tense shoulders finally dropped.

But not everyone was celebrating.

The Mist jonin looked grim.

Because Haruki was flying in the direction of the other squad.

It didn't take a genius to guess his intent.

They exchanged glances and immediately reorganized their forces.

They had to pursue. This mission was directly assigned by the captain.

···

Meanwhile—

The other Mist unit had managed to travel two to three kilometers. They were nearing the Blackstone Outpost—their destination—when Haruki suddenly reappeared.

"Watch out!"

One of the jonin spotted him and instantly warned the team.

At the same time, he hurled a kunai at Haruki.

Haruki wasn't approaching from high above this time—he was flying just above their attack range.

In theory, they could hit him.

In practice, that was wishful thinking.

Haruki's wings beat once, and his body shifted gracefully to the side. The kunai whizzed past harmlessly.

Without delay, he formed hand seals.

Wind Style: Great Breakthrough!

A tremendous gale burst from his mouth, whipping the surrounding air into a spiraling tornado.

It rushed straight toward the Mist forces.

Despite having defensive jutsu prepared, even the jonin among them found themselves overwhelmed by the sheer force.

"Scatter!"

A command rang out, and the Mist squad broke into smaller groups to minimize damage.

Unlike the previous unit, they hadn't been caught off guard. Even after dispersing, they managed to maintain basic formation.

This made Haruki's next move trickier—but only slightly.

Now fully committed to an all-out assault, Haruki abandoned all restraint.

With a powerful flap of his chakra wings, his speed surged.

He dove straight at them.

"Attack! All units, attack!"

A jonin roared as a flurry of kunai and shuriken shot toward Haruki.

Haruki activated his Sharingan, pushing its three-tomoe perception to its limit. He read every trajectory.

He dodged what he could.

What he couldn't dodge, he parried with his own kunai.

Explosive tag-laced weapons? Those were intercepted with thrown shuriken mid-air.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Fiery explosions rocked the sky. Fireballs bloomed in every direction.

Haruki gritted his teeth, resisting the heat and shockwaves as he maneuvered skillfully through the chaos.

He even used the blast force to accelerate.

In the blink of an eye, he was among them.

Hand seals flashed.

Fire Style: Phoenix Fire Jutsu!

Dozens—no, hundreds—of small fireballs spewed forth from his mouth, spreading out in waves.

Most missed.

A handful struck slower genin, igniting screams.

But Haruki didn't care.

The jutsu wasn't meant to kill—it was meant to scatter.

And it worked.

The squad's formation crumbled again.

Haruki surged chakra into his wings, casting Wind Style: Wings of Wind.

His figure curved through the sky like a drawn bow, zeroing in on a smaller cluster of Mist shinobi.

This time—no one gave orders.

Without centralized command, chaos erupted.

Haruki drew near with ease, formed another set of hand seals—

Wind Style: Wind Blade!

This strike was aimed to kill.

Only through death would the panic deepen.

Only then could he ensure his own safety—and seize further opportunity.