The clearing fell silent, save for the steady patter of rain against broad leaves.
Ren stood over the last Senju foot soldier, his chest heaving as the adrenaline slowly ebbed away.
His hands were trembling, but not from fear—from raw physical exhaustion.
This ten-year-old body was pushed to its absolute limit, yet his mind was sharper than ever.
He didn’t waste time indulging in victory.
In the Warring States Era, a loud explosion like an exploding tag was a beacon for every sensory ninja within five miles.
Moving with practiced efficiency, Ren began looting the three dead Senju.
Weapons: Two steel trench knives, a set of twenty high-quality iron shuriken, four kunai, and three remaining explosive tags.
Supplies: A small leather pouch containing soldier pills, basic wound salve, clean bandages, and a flask of fresh water.
Chakra Gear: Tucked inside the leader’s inner vest, Ren found a small, rolled-up leather scroll stamped with basic chakra sealings, along with a few sheets of blank, moisture-resistant paper.
He strapped the leather pouch securely to his waist, sheathed the finest trench knife at his hip, and bolted into the deep foliage, putting as much distance between himself and the blast site as possible.
Two hours later, deep inside a secluded cave tucked behind a roaring waterfall, Ren sat cross-legged on a flat rock.
He had chewed a bitter soldier pill and applied the salve to his cuts.
The pill worked fast—a warm, artificial surge of stamina flooded his muscles, staving off the dark edge of fainting.
Ren unrolled the stolen scroll under the dim light filtering through the waterfall.
Basic Chakra Molding & Flow Techniques, he translated mentally, reading the handwritten characters.
It wasn’t an S-rank Jutsu or a secret clan bloodline, but to a civilian kid with zero clan backing, it was pure gold.
It was a standardized manual used by the Senju to train their low-tier retainers.
Ren closed his eyes, holding one of the blank sheets of paper between his pointer and middle fingers.
He recalled the brutal combat from earlier.
He recalled the exact feeling of forcing his chakra to his feet to outrun the Uchiha, and channeling it into his arms to snap the bridge rope.
‘Chakra isn’t just power,’ Ren realized, refining his mental model based on his modern background.
‘It’s bio-energy guided by intent.
Pure kinetic potential.’
He took a slow, deep breath, pulling a steady, thin thread of chakra from his navel, smoothing out the rough edges, and pushing it through his fingers into the paper.
The paper didn’t just flicker—it wrinkled sharply in the center, then split clean down the middle, before the edges singed into faint ash.
Ren opened his eyes, staring at the torn, charred paper in genuine surprise.
‘Wind and Fire affinities,’ he noted, a cold spark of satisfaction in his eyes.
‘The Uchiha bloodline brings the Fire, but my host’s natural trait brought Wind.’
Combining the razor-sharp cutting force of Wind with the destructive heat of Fire was a combination that, with enough modern physics applied to it, could become terrifyingly lethal.
Suddenly, a heavy vibration echoed through the cavern floor.
The air inside the cave grew suffocatingly dense, heavy with a suffocating pressure that made Ren’s heart hammer against his ribs.
Out outside the waterfall, two massive chakra signatures dropped onto the riverbank.
Ren crept to the edge of the cave entrance and peered through the veil of roaring water.
Standing on the opposite bank were two young boys, no older than twelve or thirteen, glaring at each other across the river.
One had long, unruly black hair and fierce, dark eyes wearing red armor.
The other had spiky brown hair, wearing a high-collared white shirt.
Madara Uchiha and Hashirama Senju.
Ren held his breath, shrinking back into the shadows.
He had randomly dropped right into the pivotal era where the two founders of the shinobi world were still young, bitter rivals.
A subtle notification flashed across his vision:
[Pivotal Historical Event Detected: Early Meeting of the Founders]