Koushin: Konoha’s Dragonborn[Completed]

Old Konoha-Tengu sighed, a gesture so human-like that Naruto momentarily forgot he was conversing with a being far older and different than him. "Everything is Chakra, and Chakra is everything, little one. Humanity is not an exception. What Sage of Six Path did was to teach your kind how to wield it. Humans long before him had Chakra in their bodies, they used it in different ways, not knowing how to wield it."

Naruto nodded, his heart pounding in his chest as he digested this information. He looked at the old Tengu, determination etching his youthful face. "What does this have to do with my Sage Art training, Old Tengu?"

The ancient Tengu seemed pleased with Naruto's curiosity. "Little one, Tengu Sage Art is potent, bestows abilities beyond your imagination. It has been used for evil and selfishness, and I have to be certain that your heart is in the right place."

Naruto's eyes shone with resolute determination. "You don't have to worry. I will never wield it for evil." The intensity of his voice echoed in the stillness, reaching out to the old Tengu's heart.

Konoha-Tengu nodded, his sharp eyes glinting with approval. "I can see it in your heart," he said, a faint smile tugging at his beak. "Have you ever seen a Susanoo, little one?" he asked, changing the topic.

Naruto shook his head. "No, but I heard from Koushin."

The old Tengu nodded again. "Have you ever wondered why it is in the shape of a Tengu?"

Naruto's eyes widened slightly, the question catching him off guard. "I...I never really thought about it," he admitted.

Back in the battlefield, Naruto's eyes narrowed as he focused on Obito, his voice ringing out across the stunned crowd. "Long before humanity, Tengu knew how to wield Chakra," he began. His tone was solemn, his words echoing hauntingly through the air. "And just like humans, they too had their share of the talented, the evil, the cowardly, and the clever. Every once in a while, a Tengu who embodied all of these traits would be born. They would strive to conquer death itself, to attain immortality."

His gaze flickered to Madara, a heavy seriousness settling over his youthful face. "A few centuries before the era of the Six Path of Sannin, one such mastermind of evil was born in the Tengu Tribe. He was incredibly gifted and intelligent. With his sinister knowledge of Tengu Sage Art, he created numerous jutsu. Even Edo Tensei is part of his wicked legacy. The Second Hokage simply discovered an incomplete scroll and perfected it."

A heavy silence followed his words, the reality of the history hitting them all like a sucker punch. Naruto glanced at Obito, his gaze probing, unyielding. "That same evil Tengu devised a dark ritual - one so potent, so insidious that it promised him immortality. But when he and his cult attempted it, they vanished. The Tengu Tribe believed they were eradicated, lost to the sands of time. But that wasn't the case."

Naruto's voice dropped to a whisper, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. "They didn't disappear. They hid within the Kekkei Genkai with the most potential and harbored hatred that could fuel their powers. They found refuge in the Sharingan."

The mention of the Sharingan stirred Obito, his crimson eyes blazing with a mix of confusion and denial. "What are you trying to imply, Naruto?" he snarled, his tone betraying his growing uncertainty.

"Answer me, Obito, Madara and Itachi. Have you ever wondered why Susanoo is in the shape of a Tengu?" Naruto's voice echoed over the battlefield, his gaze steady on the stunned Uchiha.

Obito growled, his Sharingan spinning with agitation, "This isn't a time for riddles, Naruto."

"Naruto..." Itachi murmured, his brows furrowed. The implications of Naruto's words hung heavy in the air.

Madara merely glared at Naruto, his Sharingan flaring ominously. He didn't say anything, but the tension in his body was palpable.

Naruto chuckled. "You think Mangekyo, Eternal Mangekyo are your abilities? Your eyes, Sharingan with hatred, summon a spirit of a Tengu. Why do you think you have these magical abilities? Why do you think your Susanoo has magical weapons? Weapons that were once part of history!"

"Itachi, your Susanoo wields the Sword of Totsuka and the Yata Mirror," Naruto proclaimed, his voice reverberating across the battlefield.

A gasp of shock escaped from the watching crowd.

Itachi's brows furrowed, his lips parting in surprise. "How do you even know that?" he asked, disbelief coloring his normally composed features.

Naruto's gaze remained unwavering. "Because, those are relics of the Tengu Tribe, stolen from them. Orochimaru spent years in search of the Sword of Totsuka. How do you think he even knew of such a sword's existence, if it only appeared with your Susanoo?"

Silence hung over the battlefield, so intense it was almost tangible. A wind swept across, kicking up dust, the only sound in the momentary stillness.

The Uchihas stood frozen, the implications of Naruto's words echoing in their minds. It was as though the ground beneath them was crumbling, the very foundation of their beliefs shaking.

"Same goes for all of you," Naruto continued, his voice pulling them from their thoughts. "Your abilities are not yours, but those of the evil Tengu spirits hiding in your eyes!"

Obito sneered, his Sharingan spinning with agitation. "Enough of your nonsense!" he snapped, anger crackling in his voice. But beneath that anger, a flicker of doubt stirred.

"Is it nonsense, Obito?" Naruto challenged, his tone cold as ice. "Or is it just an inconvenient truth that you'd rather deny?"

Obito opened his mouth to retort, but words failed him. Naruto's eyes met his, holding his gaze, and for a moment, Obito felt a shiver of unease. The blond's conviction was unnerving, the certainty in his voice unsettling.

"I, Uzumaki Naruto, Second Contractor of the Tengu Tribe and the Second Human-Tengu Sage, solemnly swear to banish all evil Tengu Spirits and reclaim the stolen relics of the Tengu Tribe and return them!" Naruto's voice echoed across the battlefield, his conviction resonating with an intensity that was almost tangible.