Mastering the Elements - Chapter - 27

Jiraiya wasted no time.

The very next morning, Naruto found himself dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn, his protests ignored as the white-haired pervert-sage shoved a rice ball into his hands and announced that training would begin immediately. With only four weeks before he had to return to his work as Konoha’s spymaster, Jiraiya was determined to make the most of every single day.

Despite Naruto’s grumbling about losing his precious morning sleep, he couldn’t deny that he was excited. Training with one of the legendary Sannin was something even the most elite shinobi in Konoha would dream of. But Naruto didn’t care about legends or titles—he just wanted to get stronger.

Jiraiya’s first lesson was a jutsu unlike any other.

"Listen up, brat," Jiraiya said, stretching his arms behind his head. "You might think this is just some simple clone technique, but the Shadow Clone Jutsu is one of the most dangerous jutsu in Konoha. It’s forbidden for a reason."

Naruto raised an eyebrow. "If it’s forbidden, then why are you teaching it to me?"

Jiraiya smirked. "Because unlike most shinobi, you have more chakra than you know what to do with. And more importantly—" he tapped Naruto’s forehead with two fingers "—it’s the fastest way to learn."

That got Naruto’s attention.

"Huh?"

"You see, brat, Shadow Clones don’t just copy your body—they copy your mind. Every time a clone learns something, that knowledge is sent back to you when the clone disappears."

Naruto’s eyes widened in realization. "So if I make a hundred clones… I can learn a hundred times faster?!"

Jiraiya grinned. "Bingo. But don’t go overboard, or your brain might melt from the overload."

Naruto scoffed. "Pfft. My brain can handle it!"

Jiraiya muttered something about famous last words, but nonetheless, he had Naruto perform the technique.

And—

Naruto mastered it in one day.

Unlike most shinobi who struggled with the chakra division required to maintain a single Shadow Clone, Naruto—who had a monstrous amount of chakra—was able to summon ten clones within hours. And by sunset, he had already figured out how to send them on different training exercises simultaneously.

Jiraiya was impressed.

"Well, well. Maybe you’re not just all talk after all, brat."

Naruto grinned. "Heh. Told ya!"

But Jiraiya wasn’t done yet.

"Now that you can make clones, let’s talk about how to actually use them."

And so, the real training began.

Jiraiya quickly realized something strange about Naruto’s fighting style.

His Taijutsu was far more advanced than what an average Academy student should have.

"Hmm," Jiraiya muttered as he watched Naruto spar against his clones. His movements were too precise, too controlled.

"Alright, brat. Who taught you how to fight?"

"Mikoto-obaasan!" Naruto said proudly, dodging a kick and countering with a palm strike that sent his clone skidding back.

Jiraiya whistled. "No wonder your movements are sharp. You’re using Uchiha-style Taijutsu."

"Yeah, but Uncle Harry also taught me some stuff!"

Now that was interesting.

Jiraiya had never met Harry Potter, aside from the brief encounter when he brought Mikoto back to the village. He had wanted to see for himself what kind of man was raising Naruto, but to his disappointment, Harry had already left on a trip with his son, Itachi Potaru. Even the Hokage had no idea what they were doing outside the village.

Still, the effects of Harry’s teachings were clear—Naruto had an unusual blend of techniques.

"Not bad, brat. But Taijutsu alone won’t save you in a real fight. You need more jutsu."

Jiraiya decided to start with small, minor jutsu, since Naruto—despite his overwhelming chakra—had never trained in elemental manipulation before.

"We’ll start simple," Jiraiya said, handing Naruto a piece of chakra paper. "Focus your chakra into this, and we’ll see what nature affinity you have."

Naruto furrowed his brow, doing as he was told. The moment his chakra touched the paper, it split cleanly in half.

Jiraiya grinned. "Wind affinity. Just like I thought."

Then, unexpectedly, the torn halves became slightly damp.

Jiraiya raised an eyebrow. "Huh. You also have minor Water affinity. Must be your Uzumaki blood."

Naruto crossed his arms. "So what does that mean?"

"It means you’re best suited for Wind-style techniques, but you can also learn some Water-style jutsu with enough practice."

Over the next week, Jiraiya taught Naruto four D-rank jutsu and two C-rank jutsu, focusing on Wind and Water elements. Naruto picked them up quickly, but Jiraiya could tell he wasn’t satisfied.

"These are too weak!" Naruto complained. "I want something stronger!"

Jiraiya flicked Naruto on the forehead. "You need a solid foundation first, brat. If you can’t handle the basics, you’ll never master the advanced stuff."

Naruto grumbled, but he listened.

Still, there was something else on Naruto’s mind.

One evening, Jiraiya presented Naruto with a summoning scroll.

"Here. I want you to sign this."

Naruto glanced at it. "What is it?"

"A summoning contract."

Naruto’s interest immediately vanished.

"Pfft. I already have a ton of summoning contracts to choose from! Uncle Harry has a whole collection of them!"

Jiraiya scowled. "This isn’t just any summoning contract, kid. This is the Toad Summoning Contract—the same one your father signed."

Naruto froze.

"My father?"

"Yeah, brat. Your birth father—Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage."

Naruto clenched his fists.

Ever since he learned the truth about his father, he had been wrestling with his emotions.

Part of him wanted to know more.

Part of him was angry that no one told him sooner.

And part of him felt… lost.

But now—

Here was something real.

Something tangible.

Something his father once had.

Without another word, Naruto bit his thumb, smeared the blood across the contract, and signed his name.

Jiraiya nodded approvingly.

"Alright, brat. Now let’s see if you can summon a toad."

Naruto grinned.

"Bring it on!"

For the next several days, Naruto continued his rigorous training, learning everything he could from Jiraiya.

He mastered the use of Shadow Clones for training efficiency.

He expanded his Taijutsu and Kenjutsu.

He learned new Wind and Water-style jutsu.

And most importantly—he began practicing summoning toads.

Despite his initial resistance, Naruto found himself drawn to the summoning contract.

It wasn’t just a connection to Jiraiya—

It was a connection to his father.

And that, more than anything else, made Naruto push himself harder than ever before.

He would prove—

Not just to Jiraiya—

Not just to Konoha—

But to himself—

That he was worthy of the Fourth Hokage’s legacy.


The hunt for Danzo Shimura had taken Harry Pottaru and his son, Itachi Pottaru, across the farthest reaches of the Elemental Nations. Every whisper of Danzo’s whereabouts led them deeper into enemy territory, into lawless lands filled with mercenaries, missing-nin, and bounty hunters all eager for a chance at the massive reward on Itachi’s head.

For Harry, the constant fighting was an inconvenience. But for Itachi, it was an opportunity.

Harry allowed his son to fight alone most of the time, watching from the sidelines as Itachi sharpened his instincts, honed his Sharingan, and pushed his Wood Release to its limits. He was no longer the child prodigy of Konoha—he was something greater, something dangerous.

There were times, of course, when enemies proved too powerful, when an S-rank shinobi or a group of elite hunters tried to overwhelm him. That was when Harry stepped in. And when he did—

The fight ended instantly.

A flick of his wand turned weapons into dust.

A whispered incantation trapped entire squads in illusions worse than any genjutsu.

A single gesture could sever the chakra network of his enemies, rendering even the strongest shinobi powerless.

Harry had no need for flashy displays. His power was absolute.

Still, despite all their battles, tracking Danzo was frustratingly slow. Even with the Point Me spell, which helped guide Harry in the right direction, the process was tedious. Danzo was like a shadow, always moving, always slipping away before they could catch up.

But their patience finally paid off.

They had been traveling for weeks now, and Itachi had grown immensely. But his progress was not without pain.

One battle against a group of rogue samurai had cost him his right arm.

The severed limb hit the ground, blood splattering across the dirt as Itachi barely flinched. His face was pale, lips pressed together in a thin line as he immediately activated Wood Release, wrapping vines around the wound to stop the bleeding.

Harry had been furious—not at Itachi, but at himself.

"I should’ve stepped in sooner," he muttered, kneeling beside his son.

"I can still fight," Itachi said through clenched teeth, his eyes burning with determination.

Harry sighed. "You are my son, Itachi. But you are not invincible. Let me fix this."

With a tap of his wand, he reattached Itachi’s severed arm like it had never been removed. No scars. No pain. As if it had never happened.

Itachi flexed his fingers, staring in awe.

"I will never understand how you do this," he admitted.

Harry gave him a small, sad smile.

"It’s magic," he said simply.

But deep down, he felt a pang of regret. Itachi had not inherited his magic.

Harry had known the chances were low—it was rare for magic to pass down through generations, especially in a world dominated by chakra. Still, a part of him had hoped.

But even if Itachi lacked magic, he could still wield enchanted weapons, magical artifacts, and potions with ease. That was enough for Harry.

So, as their journey continued, Harry took the time to teach Itachi the art of alchemy and potion-making.

"A shinobi should know how to heal as well as they fight," Harry explained one evening, watching as Itachi carefully stirred a bubbling cauldron. "Medicine and poison are two sides of the same coin. If you understand both, you control the battlefield."

Itachi was a fast learner. Within days, he could brew basic healing potions and, more importantly, create poisons lethal enough to paralyze even the strongest shinobi.

Harry was proud.

But he knew their mission was far from over.

The breakthrough came in a dimly lit tavern, deep within enemy territory.

A contact had sent them word—someone had information on Danzo Shimura.

The informant was a hunched old man, his face half-hidden beneath a hood. He coughed into his drink before leaning forward.

"You’re looking for Danzo, aren’t you?" he rasped.

Harry didn’t hesitate. "Where is he?"

The old man chuckled, shaking his head. "Not where you’d expect. He’s in Kirigakure no Sato—and he’s not alone."

Harry’s eyes narrowed.

"Who is he working with?"

The man leaned in closer, his breath foul.

"Orochimaru."

The name sent a wave of cold fury through Harry.

Across the table, Itachi’s hands curled into fists.

"Why is Orochimaru in Kiri?" Itachi asked, voice sharp.

The old man smirked. "The Bloodline Purge, of course."

Harry’s jaw tightened.

"Explain."

"Kirigakure has been slaughtering its own clans, trying to wipe out bloodline limits," the man said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Orochimaru came sniffing around, and now he’s collecting what’s left—kidnapping the survivors, experimenting on them. And guess what? Danzo’s funding it."

Itachi’s blood boiled.

Harry felt ice-cold rage settle into his bones.

"That bastard never changes," Harry muttered.

Danzo wasn’t just hiding—he was actively working with Orochimaru, helping him experiment on innocent people.

If they let this continue, thousands more would suffer.

Harry rolled up his sleeves, his wand flickering in his grip.

"We’re going to Kiri."

Itachi nodded, his Sharingan flashing.

"And this time… Danzo isn’t getting away."

With a new target in sight, Harry and Itachi set their course for Kirigakure no Sato.

They both knew—this wasn’t just about Danzo anymore.

This was about stopping Orochimaru.

It was about saving innocent lives.

And it was about making damn sure that no one ever dared threaten their family again.

No more games.

No more shadows.

It was time to end this once and for all.