Naruto: Martial God Art

Might Guy watched Rock Lee retreat, his heart heavy with a mix of admiration and concern. "Lee, come on," he murmured to himself, keeping his hopeful gaze on the young ninja. "You don't have the talent for ninjutsu or genjutsu, but with enough determination and the right skills, even you can reach the pinnacle of a Jōnin."

Among his three students, Rock Lee's limitations were evident. Compared to the prodigy Neji, the celebrated genius of the Hyuga clan, or the skilled Tenten, Lee seemed outmatched. But in Rock Lee, Guy saw something he couldn't find anywhere else—a spirit that reminded him of his own.

"Perhaps," Guy thought, smiling faintly, "it's because I see my younger self in him."

Meanwhile, Lee sprinted until he found an isolated corner. His thoughts raced with memories he barely understood but felt deeply—a lifetime of martial training that seemed foreign yet familiar. Making sure no one was around, he let out a sigh of relief, feeling an intense urge to train. Lee's hands formed into fists, feeling a flow of energy that he hadn't known before, something beyond Konoha's taijutsu.

In Lee's memory, physical techniques in Konoha were passed down from generation to generation, rooted in the rigid, explosive power introduced by the Second Hokage, Senju Tobirama. It was a style Lee admired but now saw as limited. He remembered different styles that were both flexible and powerful, crafted over centuries of intense discipline.

"Can this body keep up with what I remember?" Lee wondered, his gaze sharpening. He moved into a stance that felt ingrained in his core, though unfamiliar to his muscles. He took a half step forward with a sharp inhale, planting his right foot as he swung his leg in a fierce arc through the air.

"Leg Whip!"

He landed solidly, the move so taxing on his muscles that he could feel the strain. Adjusting his stance, he clenched his fists and brought his left fist crashing down with a motion he named in his mind as the "Fist Hammer."

Barely five repetitions in, he was already sweaty, his breathing uneven. Frustration flickered across his face as he realized how quickly his body tired.

"These moves… they're too much for me right now," Lee thought, leaning against a nearby tree. "It feels humiliating, but I need a stronger foundation if I'm going to handle these techniques."

Taking a few calming breaths, Lee resolved to adjust his approach and build his body slowly. If he couldn't master these forms yet, he would train his strength, speed, and endurance until he could.

"Step by step," he muttered, remembering Might Guy's words about hard work. His setbacks wouldn't stop him; they would drive him.

From a distance, Might Guy observed his student, his expression softening with pride. "Keep going, Lee," he thought. "With enough determination, you'll reach heights no one can imagine."