Ogre's Arrival

After a month, Hanma Yujiro's journey took him to the doorstep of Konohagakure—the Hidden Leaf Village.

He set his sights on the bustling heart of the Land of Fire.

As Hanma Yujiro approached Konoha, the once-distant village grew clearer with every step.

The towering trees that surrounded the village seemed like sentinels, bearing witness to the sacrifices that had unfolded to erect this walls.

You could smell progress in the air – the village was growing and changing, and you could almost taste the excitement.

Amidst the construction, the village's lifeblood pulsed with energy.

The scent of earth and freshly hewn wood blended with the undercurrent of determination that defined Konoha's spirit.

With a presence that could not be ignored, Hanma Yujiro's entry into the village commanded attention.

Those who caught sight of him—citizens, shinobi, and clansfolk alike—found themselves transfixed by an aura that seemed to emanate from his very being.

It was a force that resonated with his being.

"Well well, it looks like this run down village is quite lively."

As his footsteps echoed through the village streets, people turned to look, their expressions ranging from curiosity to fear.

Groups of children, their eyes wide with fear, pointed and whispered as they gathered in clusters.

The adults exchanged hushed words, their voices tinged with trepidation.

The sheer aura that Hanma Yujiro projected was enough to evoke both fear and respect.

Within the heart of Konoha, the presence of the various clans added safety and protection.

Senju, Uchiha, Hyuga, Nara, Inuzuka, and more—all were united in this vibrant village.

As Hanma Yujiro continued his walk, he couldn't help but sense the distinct signatures of each clan, each one has distinct aura to their chakra.

'As I expected, their chakra are blue...hm where is that two Shinobi God?'

It wasn't his intention to incite fear. Hanma Yujiro was a man who walked his path without hesitation, guided by his own unique code.

As he walked deeper into the village, he marveled at the village's evolution.

"For a backward era, their infrastructure of their building is...not that backward?"

Hanma Yujiro's grin, a wolfish expression that spoke of the countless challenges he had overcome, remained unyielding.

He hadn't come to Konoha to cause disruption, but rather to fight to his heart content.

He hadn't faced real challenges in a while.

It's been quite some time he wasn't the strongest in the world.

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(Hanma Yujiro's POV)

I walked with the stride of a man who had seen the world in all its glory and madness.

The streets of Konohagakure sprawled before me, bustling with life and construction.

But as I walked deeper into the heart of the village, I sensed eyes upon me—curious, respectful, and wary.

A crowd had gathered, villagers and shinobi alike. The whispers of my presence reached them.

A corner of my lips curled upward in the barest hint of a grin.

It wasn't long before the whispers turned into actions.

People moved with urgency, reporting my arrival to someone of importance.

I could sense the ripples of anticipation as they conveyed my presence to their leaders.

In this village, the legends of Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha loomed large—a pair of shinobi gods who had left their mark on history.

And so it was, as the sun continued its ascent into the sky, that the figures I had expected finally emerged. Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha—two titans whose power had shaped the destiny of the shinobi world.

Their aura was as distinct as their legacy, a blend of authority and strength that radiated from them.

'They are strong alright...fufufu...SUBARASHI!"

They approached with measured steps, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and vigilance.

They were shinobi who had stood at the forefront of change, whose battles had carved paths through countless bodies.

As they came to stand before me, their gazes locked with mine, a palpable tension settled over the scene.

"Why have you come to our village?" Hashirama's voice held a warmth that belied his authority.

I met their scrutiny with a gaze that spoke of years of battles and a spirit that could not be broken.

"Hahaha! I've come to see what the renowned Konoha has to offer."

Madara's gaze was piercing, his Sharingan swirling with an intensity that sent a shiver through those around us.

"And what is it that you wanted?"

I inclined my head.

Their presence was a reminder that power and history walked hand in hand.

The legends that had brought me here—Hashirama's unmatched vitality and Madara's indomitable Sharingan—were realities that stood before me now.

A silence stretched between us, as if the world held its breath.

Then, I spoke, my words as unyielding as my will. "I've come to fight."

Hashirama's brows furrowed, a hint of uncertainty in his gaze.

"Fight?"

I allowed a grin to grace my lips, a flash of feral amusement.

"Yes, a simple fight, with both of you."

Their expressions remained unchanged, a blend of surprise and curiosity.

In their eyes, I was an enigma—an outsider whose presence defied explanation.

"Why?" Madara's voice was a low rumble, his suspicion evident.

"Because I want to know," I declared, my voice unwavering.

"I want to know if you two are as powerful as the legends claim.

The clash between the Senju and the Uchiha is legendary.

People hailed both of you as the God of Shinobi!

I just wanted to see if the rumors is true or not."

As the words hung in the air, the tension grew.

The legends that had shaped the shinobi world had converged in a clash of wills.

Hashirama and Madara exchanged glances, their silent communication showed the bonds forged through their shared past.

The silence stretched, a battle of presence and intent.

Then, Hashirama's lips curved into a thoughtful smile, a glimmer of his indomitable spirit.

"Very well. If a battle is what you seek, then a battle you shall have."

Madara's Sharingan spun, a whirlpool of crimson intensity.

"But remember, you tread upon sacred ground of Konoha!"

I grinned, my voice a growl of determination.

"Sacred or not, this is where our battle will start.

Let's go with less people, you don't want this weak villagers to die, no?"

Provoked by my sarcastic comment, Hashirama and Madara flared their chakra and bore them upon me.

"Oho, is this a technique or just a simple full chakra emission..."

I thought on their chakra try to make me buckled.

"Hey hey," let me show them how they should use their chakra to pressure someone, "That's not how you do it."

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(Madara's POV)

"That's not how you do it."

Then I felt like there's a hand try push my body.

"Hahaha, what's your name, boy?

Your chakra control is impressive, I feel like there's a hand try to tickle me...or is it a claw?

But if that's all, you're going to disappoint me!"

I flared up a lil bit more of my chakra and l saw that Hashirama's doing the same.

"Hanma Yujiro, people from my land called the Ogre, Strongest Creature but maybe that's a bust now that there's chakra."

'So his name is Hanma Yuijro...we can see that his aura is not some random nobody will have.'

I looked at Hashirama and signal him to bring this boy to somewhere else.

Hashirama knew that the clash of our strength had the potential to reshape the very earth beneath our feet.

And so, we suggested an alternative.

"If you wish to engage in battle, it would be unwise to do so here," Hashirama stated, his gaze steady.

"Our village is home to countless innocent lives."

A rare agreement settled between us.

The safety of our villagers was paramount, even in the face of the most anticipated encounter we had ever faced.

And so, Hashirama proposed a location—the Valley of the End.

A place known for its history, a battleground that had witnessed our own epic clash.

It was fitting—a neutral ground far from the village's heart, a place where the weight of our power could be unleashed without endangering those we had sworn to protect.

"Then, show me the way, I don't care about this weaklings."

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The valley stretched before us—a proof to the battles that had shaped our destinies and the shinobi world at large.

As we stood at opposite ends of the valley, our gazes locked, the air thickened with tension.

Hanma Yujiro's chakra resonated with a power that is familiar but unfamiliar to me at the same time.

His aura spoke of battles fought, victories earned, and adversaries defeated.

The unspoken truth was clear—his aura heralded the prowess of a kage-level fighter.

"We've come to this neutral ground," Hashirama's voice was a steady rumble.

"Now, Hanma Yujiro, what is it that you seek to prove?"

I locked eyes with Hanma Yujiro, feeling the excitement of an epic battle coursing through me.

The Valley of the End had witnessed battles that echoed through history, and now it was set to bear witness to another.

"I seek strength," Hanma Yujiro's words were a growl, a challenge that ignited the air around us.

"So, I need to know if your power lives up to the legends."

The unyielding determination in his gaze mirrored mine—the unquenchable thirst for challenge!