The Summoner of Legends

Determination. Rage. Will.

Those were the only things Naruto felt in that moment.

The pain from the wounds on his abdomen, face, and ribs was beginning to fade, as if something deeper, something darker, was swallowing it whole. Slowly, his anger grew, pushing out any other thoughts he might have had. There was no room for fear, reason, or mercy.

Something primal stirred inside him. That beast—the one he had kept locked away for so long—was beginning to break free. And this time, Naruto had no intention of stopping it. He didn't want to think. He didn't want to hold back. For a brief moment, he wanted to surrender to it. He wanted to unleash his rage, to destroy those who had hurt him—those who had nearly killed him.

His vision began to tinge red as he forced his battered body to stand. The stab wounds they had inflicted, though deep, slowly stopped bleeding, as if his very fury was cauterizing them from within. The pain, which had once left him writhing, was vanishing, replaced by a searing heat radiating from deep inside him.

Naruto let out a roar—a cry of effort and rage—as he finally stood. His body trembled, but his eyes, ablaze with primal fury, locked onto the men who had tried to kill him.

One of them turned at the sound. His expression shifted from satisfaction to sheer disbelief.

—"Impossible...!"—he whispered, stepping back.

This didn't make sense. Naruto's wounds should have left him incapacitated. After so many stabs, after all the blood loss and the obvious physical damage, there was no way he should have been able to stand.

And yet, there he was.

Standing before them, like a wild beast trapped in the body of a teenager.

The rest of the men, noticing their companion's horrified expression, turned as well. One of them muttered in disbelief:

—"What the hell...?"

The leader, however, showed no fear. Instead, a twisted grin formed on his face as he pulled out his knife once more.

—"So, you're a tough bastard to kill, huh?"—he sneered, stepping toward Naruto—"Thanks for getting up. Now we'll make sure you never do it again."

The others, following their leader's example, prepared themselves. One pulled out a brass knuckle, another a second knife. Naruto was surrounded, but none of them understood what was happening.

To them, this was still their victory—an easy fight, one they had already won from the start.

But for Naruto, this was something else entirely.

His mind was no longer his own.

The thoughts that would have normally held him back—logic, fear, doubt—had all been erased. Now, his mind echoed with a single dark, violent mantra:

"Why do they want me dead?"

"Who do they think they are to try and kill me?"

"Do they think I can't fight back?"

"Do they think they're the only ones who can kill?"

"I'll show them they're nothing."

The words repeated, over and over, each one darker, each one more violent than the last.

Nothing else mattered. Not his safety. Not the consequences. Not even the possibility of dying from his wounds.

The only thing that mattered…

Was ending them.

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Naruto began to move forward. Step by step, his eyes locked onto his attackers, until—without warning—he lunged with every ounce of strength his body could muster.

The first to face him was a man with brass knuckles. Naruto charged straight at him, and before he could react, the man swung a punch directly at his face. The impact split his brow open, but Naruto didn't feel it. The pain had vanished, buried beneath the tidal wave of rage consuming him.

He raised his right arm and threw a punch at the man's jaw, but his opponent managed to block it, raising his arms just in time. Without hesitation, Naruto struck again, this time aiming for the gut, but the man reacted just as quickly, blocking it as well. In return, another blow crashed against the left side of Naruto's face, splitting open his other brow.

Naruto staggered back, momentarily shaken by the force of the hit. But instead of stopping, his fury drove him forward once more.

With an inhuman roar, he leaped at his attacker like a possessed beast, using the momentum of his fall to slam his elbow directly into the man's face. The sickening crunch of a nose breaking echoed through the alley. His opponent let out a scream of pain and collapsed to the ground, knocked out cold.

But Naruto wasn't unscathed.

A sudden strike to his ribs sent him stumbling back, gasping as the air was forced from his lungs.

Even so, he didn't stop.

He couldn't stop.

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The other men watched with a mix of disbelief and fear. This wasn't normal. They had fought plenty of people before, but what stood before them wasn't just a kid. It was something else.

—"Shit, this bastard's insane!"—one of them exclaimed, taking a step back.

The leader, however, wasn't intimidated.

—"Stop shaking like idiots! He's just a brat! Get him!"

Naruto barely registered the words. All he saw were targets—shadows that needed to be destroyed. Pain, logic—everything had disappeared.

Only rage remained.

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The moment the first thug hit the ground, something in the alley changed.

The air grew heavier, thicker.

Naruto stood there, breath ragged, his hands still clenched into bloodied fists. But it wasn't just the atmosphere that had shifted. Something inside him was evolving.

A strange aura began to flicker around him—a faint layer of flames, dancing and pulsing across his body. At first, it was weak, barely noticeable, a dim glow emanating from his skin. But with every breath, with every second that passed, the "flames" grew stronger, fueled by his unrestrained rage.

The thugs saw it.

—"What the hell is that…?"—one of them muttered, eyes wide as he watched the boy who should have been dying radiate that menacing energy.

—"Who gives a shit?!"—the leader roared, pointing his knife straight at Naruto—. "It's just some damn trick! Finish him off!"

One of the men, blade in hand, charged at Naruto, yelling as he thrust the knife straight toward his stomach. But before the blade could reach its target, Naruto moved—fast, impossibly fast. In one swift motion, he dodged and countered with a crushing blow to the attacker's skull. The impact rang out like thunder.

The thug staggered backward, his legs shaking beneath him, his eyes unfocused. He wasn't out yet, but he was barely standing.

Before Naruto could finish him off, two more came at him from different angles. Two against one. This time, he wasn't fast enough.

He felt the blade sink into his back.

Steel tore through flesh, and for a split second, the world seemed to freeze. Anyone else would have screamed, collapsed, been paralyzed by the pain.

But Naruto wasn't in a normal state.

The pain didn't weaken him. It enraged him.

His dilated pupils glowed under the dim light of the alley, and the aura around him pulsed brighter. The flames surged, just a little, but enough to be seen. The fire wasn't just a reaction—it was a reflection of the inferno raging inside him.

With a guttural growl, Naruto turned to face the man who had stabbed him. His body didn't hesitate. His mind didn't waver. In an instinctual movement, he drove his fist straight into the attacker's jaw. The blow landed with a force like a hammer shattering stone.

The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

But the second attacker wasn't done. The same blade struck again, this time stabbing into Naruto's side.

Naruto barely reacted.

There was no sign of pain, no hesitation, as if the weapon was nothing more than a needle snapping against stone. His eyes locked onto his target, his body moving with a will that no longer seemed human.

At that moment, he was no longer the Naruto he had once been.

He was something else.

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The flames around him kept growing, intensifying with every wound, with every blow he took. They didn't burn him, but the heat they radiated was tangible—enough to make his enemies instinctively step back.

Naruto wasn't aware of the change. He wasn't thinking about anything except ending his enemies. The wounds accumulating on his body didn't matter. He didn't feel the sharp sting of the blades or the searing pain of the stab wounds. The only thing that mattered was destruction.

Slowly, he turned to face the thug who had been stabbing him over and over. The man raised his arm for another strike, but Naruto stopped him before he could move. His hand clamped down around the man's wrist like a steel vice.

With a roar, Naruto delivered a brutal punch.

The thug, in a desperate attempt to defend himself, raised his free arm to block. The sound of the bone snapping was sickening.

His forearm bent at an unnatural angle, and the man screamed in agony, collapsing to his knees while clutching his ruined limb.

Naruto didn't stop.

Without hesitation, he drove his knee into the man's face. Another crack echoed through the alley, followed by the dull thud of a body hitting the ground.

The man didn't move again.

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Naruto slowly lifted his head, his breathing heavy, his eyes burning with a crimson glow. His gaze locked onto the last two men standing.

They exchanged panicked glances, stepping back.

—"W-what the hell is this guy…?"—one of them stammered, his voice shaking.

—"Shut up!"—the leader growled, though even he sounded unsure—. "He's just a damn brat! Kill him before he kills us!"

But Naruto didn't wait. He didn't give them time.

Without checking whether the man he had just beaten was alive or dead, he advanced toward the remaining two. His mind couldn't process anything except the desire to annihilate them. This was a fight to the death, and this time, he had decided—he would not be the victim.

"If they're willing to kill…" he thought as his footsteps echoed through the alley, "...then they should be prepared to die."

The aura around him kept growing, more intense, more ravenous. But Naruto didn't notice. He wasn't aware of what was happening to his body. He didn't realize he was crossing a threshold from which there would be no return.

For him, there was only one goal: to finish those who wanted him dead.

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Blow after blow echoed through the alley.

The sickening cracks of breaking bones mixed with agonized screams and desperate pleas, creating a macabre symphony in the cold night air. Then, slowly, the sounds began to fade… until only a weak, ragged sob remained, broken by whimpers of pain.

Naruto stood motionless in the center of it all, his body completely engulfed by flames that flickered and roared around him like a living, breathing aura. In the dim alleyway, he burned like a blazing torch, a beacon of destruction piercing the darkness.

His eyes, once a deep blue, were now two crimson voids—feral, merciless—reflecting the raw, unbridled rage that had consumed him entirely. It was no longer the gaze of something human. It was something far more primal. Something unwilling to stop.

Years of suppressed emotions, smothered grief, and buried fury had finally erupted. Naruto had always believed his anger was useless if he couldn't change things, if he couldn't take revenge. So, he had locked it away, caged it inside a prison of logic and resignation.

But tonight, the cage had shattered.

Every ounce of pain, every frustration he had endured over the years, poured out like a flood. And when his body stood on the precipice of death, his mind simply let go. Naruto stopped holding back. Stopped thinking. Stopped being human.

Rage devoured him.

Now, his instincts reigned, taking full control while his conscious mind lingered in a hollow void, absent. It wasn't him standing there anymore. It was something else. Something darker. Something far more dangerous.

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—"No… don't… don't kill me…"—the gang leader begged, his voice trembling, broken by sheer terror.

The man, covered in wounds, dragged himself backward across the bloodstained ground, leaving a smeared trail behind him. His face was twisted in pure horror as he watched Naruto step forward, slow and deliberate, his heavy footsteps pounding through the silence like a drumbeat of doom.

—"I'll give you anything you want…"—he cried, desperation seeping into every syllable—"Women, money, drugs! Whatever you want, just please!"

But his pleas fell on deaf ears.

Naruto didn't react. He showed no sign of hearing, no acknowledgment of the man's words. He was no longer there. His mind was disconnected, severed completely from his body. The only thing that remained was fury—wild, unchained—and the most primal instinct of all: survival.

The leader kept crawling, gasping for breath, trying to escape.

—"No… stay away…"—he whimpered, scrambling backward. But his legs, twisted and broken at unnatural angles, made it impossible to flee.

Naruto continued forward, his figure drenched in blood and riddled with wounds, though none seemed to slow him down. Most of the blood wasn't even his. His body, in this state, felt untouchable—immortal—like pain and injuries simply couldn't reach him.

—"Please… I'll do anything…"—the man sobbed, his voice barely a whisper.

His pleas died in an instant.

A brutal strike came crashing down, and the sickening squelch of something wet and soft bursting filled the alley. The gang leader's skull caved in like an overripe fruit.

The silence that followed was absolute. Cold. Unforgiving.

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Naruto stood motionless as the flames around him reached their peak. The crimson glow bathed the alley in an ominous light, transforming that forgotten corner of the city into a scene straight out of hell itself.

At his feet, what remained of the gang leader was an unrecognizable mass of flesh, bone, and blood. Fragments of what was once a head were scattered around his boots, now completely soaked in red.

Naruto didn't look down. His glowing red eyes remained fixed ahead—void of humanity yet still brimming with a simmering fury that refused to fade.

His once-blond hair was now drenched in blood, clinging to his forehead in damp strands that framed his face. His clothes, shredded from stab wounds and blows, hung from his body in tattered rags, exposing skin marred with injuries that no longer seemed to matter.

All around him, the alley was littered with bodies.

Some of the gang members lay sprawled on the ground, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles, fractured like brittle branches. Others bore far more grotesque wounds—skulls crushed beyond recognition, torsos split open, heads… missing.

The walls were painted in streaks of blood, pieces of flesh clinging to the bricks where some of the men had met their gruesome end. In certain spots, what looked like fragments of skulls were embedded in the surface, leaving jagged holes rimmed in crimson—a silent testament to the sheer force behind Naruto's strikes.

It was a massacre.

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Naruto remained standing in the center of it all, the lone figure still breathing amidst a landscape of death and destruction. His breathing was heavy, deep—almost animalistic. The flames still flickered around him, casting his silhouette in an eerie, nightmarish glow.

In that moment, anyone who had stumbled upon this scene would not have seen a teenager.

They would have seen a monster.

Silence hung over the alley, thick and suffocating. But inside Naruto, a storm raged. The fire around him flickered, its intensity waning, as if mirroring the limits of his body.

And then, for the briefest moment, something stirred within him.

A flicker of consciousness.

A thought that cut through the haze of rage and made him hesitate—just for a second.

"What… have I done?"