Naruto: The Last Harbinger of Storm

Naruto: The Last Harbinger of Storm

Chapter 57: The Fire Court's Verdict - II

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Author's Note:

Hey everyone! I'm not quite sure if this chapter is up to the mark, and I've been thinking about whether I should rewrite it. Your thoughts and feedback would really help me decide! Please like and comment, and let me know what you think.

Your support means everything as I continue working onNaruto: The Last Harbinger of Storm.

Thanks for reading!

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Join ThirdFireTriden on Pa(tre)(on) the link is in description or type my name in google search with pat (tre) on remove the space and bracket!

NTLHOS: Chapter 58: The Crumbling Pillars is out!

NTLHOS: Chapter 59: Aftermath- The Fractured Veil IS OUT !

NTLHOS: Chapter 60: The Storm Emperor IS OUT!

NTLHOS: Chapter 61: Where id the world heading? !

NTLHOS: Chapter 62: The Great Escape is out!

NTLHOS: Chapter 63: The Bound Path And World Around IS OUT!

NTLHOS: Chapter 64- The Silence Of Wind Or Is It Life? IS OUT!

NTLHOS: Chapter 65: Realisation And Transformation IS OUT!

NTLHOS: Chapter 66: The Game Is ONN IS OUT!

NTLHOS: Chapter 67: A Storm Is Always Remains A Storm. IS OUT !

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"The greatest battles are not fought with fists, but with the mind and the heart."

—A. D. Williams

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HAPPY READING

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Last time on NTLHOS:

But then the Daimyo spoke, his voice measured and cold. "You saved my life once, Uzumaki, and for that, I granted you a seat at this court. But do not mistake that act for forgiveness. Your mother's actions are an indelible stain on your clan, and I cannot—will not—overlook them. But… I am not without reason. Continue, and make your case."

Naruto's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, though the weight of the room remained pressing down on him. "Your grace," he said, his voice softening slightly, "I did not even know of my heritage when I saved you. I had no expectations of reward, no intention of seeking favor. I acted because it was right, because it was what I was taught to do. I ask not for clemency but for understanding. Let my actions speak louder than the sins of my mother. I ask for a chance—for the sake of my people and the future of my clan."

So, the battle begins.

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Now:

Before the Fire Daimyo could respond, a figure rose from the shadows of the court—a figure that, in an instant, silenced the already tense room, the Black Rose. The name itself was enough to strike apprehension and fear into even the most hardened of politicians. Her rise was quiet but relentless, much like the creeping tendrils of a shadowy vine that strangle its host. She hadn't spoken during Konoha's council meetings, despite the fall of Hiruzen's influence, but now… now, she had chosen to make her move.

Naruto's heart tightened. Sukino was not one to act without cause, and if she was speaking now, it meant the chessboard had already shifted, and his position was growing perilous. He had heard stories of her—stories whispered in the corridors of power, tales of how she manipulated the very air around her to bend to her will. Her silence was lethal, but her words… those were weapons.

With an eerie smile that seemed far too kind for a woman like her, Sukino turned to the Daimyo. Even the ruler of the Fire Nation, garbed in his regal attire, appeared unnerved by her, a rare display of discomfort on his otherwise stoic face. The smile she gave him held no warmth, only the cold promise.

"Your Grace," Sukino's voice slithered through the hall, like velvet over steel. "I humbly ask for permission to share a few observations." The wordobservationsleft her lips like a subtle threat, her eyes gleaming like a snake preparing to strike.

The Daimyo, visibly unsettled, nodded. "You may speak, Elder Sukino."

She turned her attention to Naruto, her gaze sharp and predatory. "Lord Uzumaki, how unfortunate that our first interaction should be under such circumstances." Her voice held a mockery of sympathy, but Naruto could feel the malice behind her words. "But alas, such is the nature of things."

Naruto said nothing, his jaw tightening. He could feel the trap closing around him, could see the subtle, almost invisible threads she had spun, weaving their way through the hall. She was building a case, layer by layer.

Sukino continued, her tone as smooth as it was venomous. "It seems to me, my dear lords and ladies, that the very resources of the Uzumaki—their famed sealing arts—were what led to the tragic events we are here to address. It was with these techniques that Kushina Uzumaki butchered the former Daimyo and nearly wiped out the royal family. It was with the knowledge of Uzushiogakure that she unleashed devastation within these very walls."

The room was deathly silent, each word tightening the noose around Naruto's neck.

"And so I must ask," Sukino turned to the assembled nobles, her smile still in place, "why is it that the resources of the Uzumaki—their sealing arts—should be shown mercy? The Uzumaki and their arts are one and the same. To allow the continuation of their legacy is to allow the same power that destroyed this palace to remain unchecked."

Naruto's fists clenched beneath the table. She was pushing for the complete eradication of his clan's legacy, for the dissolution of the Uzumaki name and its arts. But he wouldn't allow it. His voice, though controlled, carried a sharp edge as he responded.

"It was that same sealing art," Naruto said, his eyes narrowing, "that I used to save the Daimyo from the assault, to breach the barrier and take him to safety."

Sukino's patronizing smile widened, like a mother indulging a foolish child. "Oh, my dear Lord Uzumaki," she purred, her voice dripping with condescension, "but you did not use Uzumaki sealing that day, did you? No… you employed basic techniques—ingenious, perhaps, but they were common seals, known to any competent shinobi. They lacked the depth and devastation of your clan's true art. You were unaware of your heritage then, weren't you? Or perhaps... were you?" She tilted her head slightly, her gaze piercing, the mockery in her tone designed to unnerve him. Every word was a barb, meant to diminish his previous actions as mere child's play.

She continued, her voice now almost a whisper, as if sharing a cruel secret. "Comparing your efforts that day to Uzumaki sealing arts is like comparing Mokuton to Doton—Wood Release to Mud Release. Both may involve earth and water, but the difference in power is vast. Mud Release is basic, inconsequential. It shapes the ground, yes, but it holds no lasting strength. Meanwhile, Mokuton... Mokuton bends nature itself, builds nations, tames the wild. Your actions, dear Lord Naruto, were but mud when compared to the towering legacy of your ancestors—who wielded sealing power as if they commanded the very fabric of the universe itself. Your mother's seals weren't just powerful—they were absolute. And that… that is the Uzumaki legacy."

The implication hung in the air, a noxious cloud settling over the court. The weight of her words wasn't lost on anyone. She was driving a wedge between Naruto's claim to Uzumaki heritage and the crimes of his mother, making it impossible for him to defend.

Naruto remained silent for a moment, his mind racing to find a counter. But no matter how he twisted the logic, she had him. He had to admit that the sealing techniques his mother used were the same that had saved the Daimyo—or deny his lineage altogether.

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But Naruto was nothing if not a strategist. He wasn't about to let Sukino have the final word. "Fine," he said, his voice a steady current beneath the storm. "Let's say my clan's art is responsible for the massacre. Then tell me this—how will you justify Lord Third Hokage's involvement in concealing my heritage? The council knew. You all knew. And yet, you kept my existence hidden from the Daimyo. If I am guilty by virtue of my mother's actions, then you, too, are guilty of keeping justice from him for all these years."

Sukino's smile faltered, if only for a moment. But before she could respond, another voice rang out, sharp and filled with condescension.

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"What concealing, Lord Uzumaki?" The words came from Aluraya Higen, his voice dripping with venom, the deliberate sneer on the title "Lord" making it clear just how little respect he held for Naruto. His eyes gleamed with malicious satisfaction. "The Fourth Hokage—your father—in a desperate bid to shield you from justice, teleported himself to an orphanage and bribed the matron to keep your identity hidden. We've already apprehended her, questioned her… and executed her for fostering a fugitive."

Even Sukino's eyes widened at this revelation. She had been the one to orchestrate the alibi that allowed them to feign ignorance of Naruto's identity. Imprisoning the matron, Yes—that had been within the scope of their plan. But executing her? That was not part of the game she had meticulously designed. Her calculating gaze flicked toward Naruto, and for the first time in years, she felt a chill creep down her spine.

This wasn't part of the game anymore. Something far darker had been unleashed.

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Naruto's world froze.

The words hit him like a hammer to the chest, knocking the air from his lungs. His vision blurred, and for the first time in years, Naruto felt a coldness sweep through him that he hadn't felt since his childhood. The room around him, the faces of the lords and ladies, all faded into the background.

"She's dead?" The words barely left his lips, spoken in a hoarse whisper. The matron—the woman who had taken him in when no one else would, who had cared for him like a mother when he had none—executed. For his sake.

Naruto's hands, which had been steady, began to tremble. His chakra surged, raw and unchecked, flooding the room with an electric tension that made the air crackle. The moisture in the air thickened, and his cerulean eyes darkened, taking on the color of a brewing storm.

The Daimyo, startled by the sudden pulse of power, staggered back into his throne, his eyes wide with shock. Naruto's killing intent filled the room, a suffocating weight that pressed down on everyone present. Even the Guardian Twelve shifted uneasily, their hands inching towards their weapons, though they hesitated to act.

"Uzumaki," the Daimyo's voice wavered, but his command was lost beneath the torrent of chakra that radiated from the Uzumaki heir. Naruto's gaze snapped toward the ruler, and in that instant, the weight of his Chakra seemed to push the Daimyo back into his seat. The lord of the Fire Nation, who had once ruled without fear, was now staring into the eyes of something far more... than he had ever anticipated.

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The matron—his matron—was gone.

Naruto's world teetered in that single moment, the words echoing through the grand hall, but somehow only he seemed to hear them. The voices around him became muffled, distant, as though submerged in water, and all he could hear was the sickening, reverberating truth.

Gone.

The one person who had shown him unconditional kindness when he was nothing, when he was just a boy without a name, without a future, without even a place to call home, was gone. She was the closest thing to family he had ever known. In a world that had met him with indifference—where other caretakers treated him as just another mouth to feed, another burden in the orphanage—she had always been different. She had never turned away. She had always been there.

When the funds for the orphanage ran dry, it had been the matron who quietly made up the difference from her own savings, sacrificing what little she had to make sure Naruto and the other children never went hungry. No one knew this, of course. No one knew the depth of her sacrifices. No one in this hall could even begin to comprehend what that woman had meant to him.

She wasn't his flesh and blood, but in every way that mattered, she had been his mother. She had been his protector when the world was at its cruelest, when Konoha turned a blind eye to the boy who had no clan, no status. When he was alone. She had given him warmth, shelter, and dignity when others offered none. When he had failed the Genin test and was forced to sleep on the streets, too ashamed to return, it was her voice he had feared the most—because he knew she would drag him back, scold him for not asking for help, even if it meant taking more from her meager savings to provide him a roof.

He had kept his distance to spare her that burden. He had lived in the shadows, doing what he could to keep his troubles from reaching her door.

And now… she was dead.

Executed for her loyalty to him. Her only crime? Sheltering a child who didn't even know the weight of the bloodline he carried, who had no idea he was a fugitive in the eyes of the powerful, hunted not for what he had done, but for the legacy that stained his blood. She had paid the ultimate price, and it was his fault.

Naruto's hands clenched into fists, trembling, not from fear but from the storm of grief and rage building within him. He had stayed away as he rose through the ranks of Konoha, thinking he could protect her from the dangers that came with his growing influence, from the enemies who lurked in the shadows—Danzo, the elders, those who sought to manipulate or destroy anything tied to him. He had convinced himself that by keeping his distance, he was sparing her.

He had made sure the orphanage was well-funded, sending donations anonymously, never letting her know it was him. He watched her from afar in the quiet hours of the night, ensuring she was safe, healthy, happy. There were times he stood in the shadows, watching as she played with the children in the orphanage courtyard, or watched her sleep peacefully after a long day's labor. It had brought him a strange sort of comfort, seeing her from the distance, knowing she was still there, still doing the work she had always done, even if he could no longer be part of it.

But now, she was gone. And her death wasn't the result of some natural tragedy or the cruelty of fate. No. She had been executed—coldly, efficiently—by the very people who claimed to serve justice. They had killed the only person who had ever truly cared for him, who had protected him when no one else would. They had taken her from him without warning, without even the dignity of her sacrifice being known.

He had never had the chance to tell her what she meant to him. Not once had he ever been able to say how much he loved her, how deeply he appreciated all that she had done. He had never returned to her, never allowed himself the chance to tell her how far he had come. There had been so many nights where he lay beneath the stars, wondering if she knew, if she had heard whispers of his victories, if she was proud of him. If she had ever known what he had become.

And now, he would never know.

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The storm inside him broke free.

Hiruzen Sarutobi sat in the high noble seating, his presence a silent, watchful sentinel among the lords of the Fire Court. Flanked by the heads of the Senju and Uchiha clans—Tsunade and Mikoto—his expression was as inscrutable as ever, though inwardly, he was far from composed. Even he, in all his wisdom and careful planning, had not foreseen this. The execution of the matron was not part of the plan. It was never supposed to come to this.

The arrest had been a calculated move, a political maneuver designed to provide an alibi, a way to box Naruto into a corner without drawing too much blood. But an execution? The death of an innocent matron? Hiruzen's heart clenched momentarily. The old Sarutobi had never been a man to condone needless death, especially not of the innocent.

But now, with Naruto's raw, untamed fury threatening to consume the entire hall, it was clear something had gone horribly wrong. The young Uzumaki's chakra had flared, violent and uncontrolled, crashing through the chamber like a tidal wave. The air crackled with the intensity of it, the storm of Naruto's grief and rage manifesting in a surge of power that sent ripples of wind and lightning through the room.

And then, it happened.

Naruto's killing intent, sharpened by the pain of his loss, turned to the Fire Daimyo. The sheer weight of his chakra was so potent, so overwhelming, that the Daimyo himself had staggered, his regal posture collapsing under the pressure. The ruler of the Land of Fire, who commanded nations with a single word, had fallen back onto his throne, the very seat of his power buckling beneath the oppressive force Naruto unleashed.

This was an assault on the Daimyo himself. The hall fell into stunned silence, every noble and lord frozen, their breaths held in shock. No one dared move. No one dared speak.

It was as if time itself had stopped.

Except for Hiruzen Sarutobi.

The shackles that had bound him, the restraint he had maintained for years, dissolved in that instant. The room blurred, a flash of white where Hiruzen once sat. The ceremonial robes, once draped over his frame, fell empty to the ground, a ghost of the man who had worn them.

Before Naruto could even blink, Hiruzen was in front of him.

One moment, Naruto was standing amidst the storm of his own creation, and the next, the Third Hokage's presence loomed before him like an unshakable mountain. The old man—once thought of as past his prime, a relic of another era—stood in his battle armor, the gear of the battlefield draped over his hardened frame, casting a shadow over Naruto that swallowed him whole.

Without a word, Hiruzen placed his hand on Naruto's shoulder. And then, with a force that defied Naruto's expectations, he pressed down with his monstrous presence and chakra, filling the room.

The force brought Naruto to one knee.

It was shocking.

Naruto, who had always been wary of the Third Hokage's strength, had never imagined the man could exert such dominance, especially not now, not at this stage of his life. He had seen how Lord Third had toyed with some of the most dangerous shinobi in the world, Kisame Hoshigaki, Zabuza Momochi—but that had been almost a decade ago. The Third Hokage had not been in his prime then, and certainly, Naruto had believed, he wasn't now.

But standing before him now, feeling the crushing weight of his chakra pressing down on him like a living force, Naruto realized the mistake he had made. This wasn't the weakened Hiruzen he had thought him to be.

Hiruzen Sarutobi was far from diminished.

He could feel it now—Hashirama's cells, the vitality that coursed through the Third's body and revitalized him. It was clear now that the old man had used bio-supplements, methods to regain his strength, to stave off the ravages of age. Chakra enhancements, supplements, techniques that brought him close to his former power.

But for the Third Hokage to reveal this now, here, in the middle of the Fire Court, was a shock beyond words. The shackles of restraint had been torn away due to the assault on the Daimyo himself, and the realization settled in. Hiruzen Sarutobi was not simply a relic of a bygone era anymore. He had been ready for war.

Naruto, still pressed to one knee, gritted his teeth, the storm within him still swirling, but now muted, eclipsed by the monstrous presence of the Third. He had lost composure. Lost control. And in doing so, he had allowed his enemies to see the cracks in his armor. He cursed himself silently, realizing that he should have withdrawn when the trial began to turn. He should have gotten out of this council, retreated, and plotted a way out.

For a moment, their eyes met—Naruto's stormy gaze, filled with hatred, locked with the cold, piercing eyes of Hiruzen Sarutobi.

Before Hiruzen could make his next move, another presence surged into the forefront, an overwhelming force that flared with enough power to rival the Third Hokage's own. A sudden shift in the room's atmosphere drew every eye as the new figure stepped forward, his chakra radiating in waves that sent ripples through the air.

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One hand shot out, gripping the wrist of the Third Hokage—the same hand that had been pressing Naruto down, forcing him to one knee. The sheer strength behind the grasp was undeniable.

Hiruzen's gaze shifted to the new arrival, his eyes widening in shock. Standing before him was none other than Jiraiya of the Densetsu no Sannin, his expression deadly serious as he held his former sensei's wrist in a firm, unyielding grip.

"Jiraiya..." Hiruzen breathed, taken aback by his student's sudden intervention.

Jiraiya's eyes, usually filled with mischief and humor, were hard and resolute as they locked with Hiruzen's. His voice, when he spoke, was calm but filled with undeniable authority.

"Yes, me Sensei," Jiraiya replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. "But not today. Today, he is my godson."

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Stay tuned for the next chapter of NTLHOS.

Join ThirdFireTriden on Pa(tre)(on) the link is in description or type my name in google search with pat (tre) on remove the space and bracket!

NTLHOS: Chapter 58: The Crumbling Pillars is out!

NTLHOS: Chapter 59: Aftermath- The Fractured Veil IS OUT !

NTLHOS: Chapter 60: The Storm Emperor IS OUT!

NTLHOS: Chapter 61: Where id the world heading? !

NTLHOS: Chapter 62: The Great Escape is out!

NTLHOS: Chapter 63: The Bound Path And World Around IS OUT!

NTLHOS: Chapter 64- The Silence Of Wind Or Is It Life? IS OUT!

NTLHOS: Chapter 65: Realisation And Transformation IS OUT!

NTLHOS: Chapter 66: The Game Is ONN IS OUT!

NTLHOS: Chapter 67: A Storm Is Always Remains A Storm. IS OUT !

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