He will but not Fuen

Fūka’s idea of reinforcing Konohagakure held weight, and Naruto could acknowledge that much. Still, the thought of bringing Fuen back stirred no urgency. The risks outweighed the appeal, and hesitation settled in where conviction should have been.

What had worked with Fūka remained an uncertainty. Naruto couldn’t explain why the attempt had succeeded, only that her unique strain of ninjutsu and the method she’d used to anchor her soul likely played a role. The variables were too specific, too poorly understood to repeat blindly.

If there was a next step, it made sense to take it carefully—start with someone else, test the ground before committing to something irreversible.

Naruto had crossed paths with more than a few formidable opponents who, under different circumstances, could have stood beside him instead of against him. Their strength was undeniable. What kept them enemies was everything that came with it—the cruelty, the volatility, the way conflict seemed to follow them wherever they went.

One encounter still lingered in his mind: a routine ferret-catching mission that spiraled into a full-blown confrontation. Even years later, the reason for the fight remained hazy. There had been talk of a strange stone, something with unnatural properties, tangled together with motives that never fully added up. At the time, it felt less like a mission and more like being swept into someone else’s unfinished mess.

At least something worthwhile came from it. Naruto had met Temujin along the way, and the two had formed an unexpected bond before Temujin departed in search of a so-called “new land.” That connection endured, standing out as the one clear outcome from an otherwise senseless clash.

From Temujin’s letters, Naruto pieced together what had happened after they parted. By Temujin’s own admission, he’d made a reckless choice—signing on as one of Haido’s knights, serving the very man they had once fought together.

The source of their power traced back to that same incident. A fragment of the stone tied to the whole disaster had been embedded in each knight’s chest. It pushed their bodies past normal limits, fueling endurance, raw strength, and an unsettling ability to recover from injuries that should have been fatal. Temujin described the techniques it enabled as Gelel Techniques, each one distinct to its wielder.

None of it resembled ninjutsu, and chakra had nothing to do with it. Naruto could still remember how wrong the power had felt during that mission. Whatever the Stone of Gelel truly was, it seemed unlikely to still exist. If it hadn’t been completely destroyed, it had vanished well enough to leave nothing behind but unanswered questions.

Temujin had described his role clearly enough in his letters. He served as the scout, ranging ahead of the others—Fugai, Kamira, and Ranke—the three knights who later crossed paths with Gaara, Shikamaru, Kankurō, and Sakura.

The reports Naruto received afterward filled in the rest. According to Shikamaru and Gaara, with Sakura confirming it, the three women entered their fights already convinced of victory. They tested their opponents instead of pressing the attack, drawing out the battles as if the outcome had been decided from the start. Confidence slipped into carelessness. Their reliance on Gelel-powered strength left little room for caution, and that hesitation proved fatal when their enemies refused to play along.

That didn’t mean the three had been weak. The problem lay elsewhere. Their power had never been tempered by discipline or proper training, and overconfidence filled the gaps where experience should have been. With no ties to the Elemental Nations, no lingering allegiances or political weight, they presented a clean choice. Naruto settled on them as a first test.

“The three of Haido’s Knights—Fugai, Kamira, and Ranke—will manifest before me, returned to life in physical form.”

The words left his mouth with purpose. Power stirred in response, pressure building in the air as three shapes began to take form. Chakra bent, condensed, and then solidified, resolving into human outlines standing just ahead of him.

Their eyes remained closed, bodies motionless, yet recognition came easily. Armor told the story. The knight clad in blue plating with a dark purple shirt beneath—Fugai. Sakura’s opponent. Nearby stood Ranke, her armor a deeper shade of purple, boots heavy and worn, the first to fall to Gaara. The last figure wore armor tinted blue-green, a color Naruto had never bothered to name. Kamira. The one Shikamaru and Kankurō had brought down together.

One detail caught Naruto off guard. The three didn’t look exactly as he remembered. Their forms carried a little more weight—fuller in ways that hadn’t been there before, subtle shifts that stood out now that he was seeing them up close again. He chalked it up to the technique itself, assuming whatever **** had rebuilt them had done so according to his own preferences , smoothing edges and filling in gaps where memory had blurred.

They weren’t ready to wake—not fully. Naruto could feel it, the technique still settling, holding them in a suspended state.

“The three—Fugai, Kamira, and Ranke—will answer my questions, one at a time.”

His gaze shifted to the first figure. “Fugai. You’ll start. Tell me who you are, and what kind of person you were.”

Her eyes stayed shut. Awareness hadn’t returned, yet her mouth moved as if the words were being pulled straight from somewhere deeper. The voice that answered carried none of the sharp edge Naruto remembered. Flat. Stripped of heat.

“I am one of Haido’s knights, part of his Utopian Army,” Fugai said. “I am aggressive and quick to anger. I rely on **** to reach my goals. I dismiss others, even when they don’t understand the situation. I take pleasure in causing pain. I am arrogant, and I believe I cannot be defeated.”

Naruto didn’t hesitate. Traits like that couldn’t be left untouched.

“From this moment on, Fugai,” he said, his voice steady, carrying weight, “you may keep your aggression and your short temper. The rest changes. The cruelty ends. You’ll show concern for others, and you’ll face opponents without assuming victory. You’ll measure your strength honestly and act with a clear head.”

The air tightened as the command settled in, something unseen locking into place. Fugai’s brow twitched, then smoothed. Her head dipped in a slow, deliberate nod.

“That will be so,” she said, the words arriving without resistance.

Naruto shifted his focus to the next figure. “Kamira. You’re next. Tell me who you are.”

Her reply came without delay, eyes still closed, posture unchanged. “I am one of Haido’s knights, a soldier of his Utopian Army.” There was a faint lilt to her voice, even now. “I take pleasure in fear—drawing it out, watching it settle in. I prefer distance, mocking my opponents rather than finishing them quickly. I taunt them, give them names meant to sound affectionate, sometimes flirt, all to keep them off balance. I am sharp-minded, quick to read terrain and behaviour.” A pause followed, brief and precise. “I also believe myself superior. I trust my judgment above others, and I place too much faith in my own insight and in those who stand with me.”

The pattern was familiar. Naruto didn’t dwell on it.

“Then listen carefully, Kamira,” he said. “From this moment forward, the cruelty ends. The arrogance fades. You’ll act with devotion and restraint. You’ll protect rather than torment. Courage and duty will guide you, not confidence for its own sake.” Naruto's words settled with quiet ****. Kamira inclined her head once, accepting the change without comment.

At last, Naruto faced Ranke. She had fallen earlier than the others, crushed in her clash with Gaara. The memory surfaced uninvited, followed by a brief, silent thought—going up against Gaara rarely ended any other way.

“Ranke,” he said. “Tell me about yourself.”

Her response came evenly, matching the others in its lack of awareness. “I am one of Haido’s knights, part of his Utopian Army. I am impatient and outspoken. I enjoy attention and confrontation.” A faint edge slipped into her voice. “I tease my opponents, draw things out, and that habit leads me to misjudge them. I place too much faith in my own strength. I take satisfaction in watching others struggle, in keeping them helpless.”

Naruto exhaled through his nose. Different words, same pattern.

“Then here’s how this changes,” he said. “You can keep your bluntness and your impatience. The rest ends here. You won’t look down on your enemies or assume they’re beneath you. Cruelty is gone. You’ll act with restraint, and you’ll show compassion instead of treating others with cruelty.”

Only then did Naruto register what he hadn’t addressed. Their dispositions had changed, their excesses cut away—but none of that strengthened Konohagakure on its own.

He straightened, letting the pause stretch just long enough to matter.

“From this moment on, you serve Konohagakure—and you serve me.” His voice carried evenly, leaving no room for confusion. “Your loyalty belongs to the village, and to me before all else. You’re devoted to me. You love me. You believe that standing at my side, obeying me, strengthens the village you protect.”

The words settled like a final seal.

Naruto looked over the three motionless figures. “Now,” he said, calm and certain, “wake up.”