Two years passed in the blink of an eye.
Kazama Ryū was nine years old.
Over the past two years, his life had followed an almost brutally rigid routine.
Every morning, he sparred in taijutsu with Might Guy outside the Village, burning with youthful passion and trading sweat, soreness, and exhaustion for a steady rise in his Physique attribute.
During the day, he trained at the Uchiha grounds, engaging in “paid” sparring sessions with Uchiha Nao.
Under the girl’s sullen, unwilling glare, he would calmly accept the agreed-upon “sparring fees,” steadily padding his growing treasury.
At night came his true cultivation time—pouring all his remaining energy and resources into relentlessly grinding his Ninjutsu proficiency.
Occasionally, during brief breaks, Nao would cross her arms and ask in her usual tone—a strange mix of arrogance and confusion: “Hey, Kazama Ryū.
That Kakashi Hatake guy is already a Chūnin and famous on the battlefield.
Why haven’t you applied for graduation yet?” In her eyes, with Ryū’s strength, he should have long since stepped onto a greater stage, just like Kakashi.
“What’s the rush?” Ryū would reply calmly, with an air of someone who saw far beyond the present.
“The ones sent out first aren’t the main course—they’re just the appetizer.
My dish… isn’t ready yet.” Nao only half understood his words, convinced he was being deliberately cryptic again.
She would huff angrily and turn her head away.
Ryū, of course, had no intention of explaining.
Graduate early?
Don’t joke around.
Before grinding every possible skill in the so-called newbie Village to the maximum, stepping onto the battlefield would be nothing more than serving his own head on a platter—politely, at that.
He understood very clearly: the battlefield wasn’t a sparring match where people held back at the right moment.
It was genuine Shura hell.
Without sufficient strength, the difference between a “genius” and cannon fodder could be nothing more than a single poisoned kunai.
Then came the day when the oppressive atmosphere hanging over the Village finally reached its breaking point.
The Third Shinobi World War was escalating rapidly.
Casualties at the front lines mounted, and Konoha issued yet another mobilization order for early graduation.
At the Ninja Academy, an uneasy mix of excitement, fear, and confusion filled the air.
Some hot-blooded youths dreamed of rushing onto the battlefield to make a name for themselves.
Others, weighed down by their parents’ anxiety, felt lost in the face of an uncertain future.
Ryū walked through the streets, watching hurried figures pass by and listening to the hushed discussions around him.
He knew—his time had come.
He had lain low long enough.
His blade was ready to be drawn.
Not because of hot blood.
Not for fame.
But because if he waited any longer, the vortex of war would eventually drag him in as a mere “student.” And by then, he wouldn’t even have the luxury of choosing.
Returning home, Ryū exchanged every bit of money he had saved over the past two years for Military Ration Pills—the standard supplies used on the battlefield.
They would allow faster recovery and buy him more time to train.
Then, without hesitation, he plunged into the familiar river valley outside the Village.
The final sprint had begun.
By day, he trained Wind Release.
Violent tempests tore through the valley, leaving the rocks along both banks scarred and shredded.
By night, he practiced the Body Flicker Technique.
Under the moonlight, his figure split into countless afterimages, moving so fast that even trained eyes couldn’t follow.
When his chakra ran dry, he swallowed a bitter Military Ration Pill, forcing out the last scraps of strength to continue.
When his spirit reached its limit, he plunged into the icy river, using bone-chilling cold to shock himself awake and push on.
In his world, only the monotonous system notifications and steadily rising proficiency bars remained.
He didn’t know how much time passed—three days, perhaps five.
At the moment when both his body and mind felt hollowed out to the brink of collapse, the long-awaited sounds erupted in his consciousness like fireworks.
[Ding!
Body Flicker Technique has reached Lv.5 (MAX)!] [Ding!
Wind Style: Great Breakthrough has reached Lv.7 (MAX)!] In an instant, profound understanding of speed and the nature of wind flooded his mind.
Countless insights were carved directly into his soul, as if through an initiation.
Ryū slowly straightened.
With a single thought, his figure vanished.
In the next instant, he reappeared on the opposite bank of the river, over a hundred meters away.
There wasn’t even the slightest chakra fluctuation—fast enough to resemble true spatial displacement.
He raised his hand and casually pointed toward a distant cliff face.
“Great Breakthrough.” A one-handed seal.
Terrifying wind pressure, invisible to the naked eye, arrived instantly.
Boom—!
The cliff wall looked as if it had been savaged by an unseen colossal beast.
A massive crater over ten meters wide appeared, its edges smooth as polished glass.
This power had long surpassed the C-rank level and even exceeded most B-rank Ninjutsu.
Ryū exhaled slowly and opened his panel.
The data had undergone a complete transformation.
[Name: Kazama Ryū] [Age: 9] [Physique: 9] [Spirit: 11] [Chakra: 900 / 900] [Skills] [Chakra Extraction Technique: Lv.4 (320 / 2000)] [Chakra Control: Lv.5 (12 / 2000)] [Body Flicker Technique: Lv.5 (MAX)] [Wind Style: Great Breakthrough: Lv.7 (MAX)] [Ninja Tool Throwing: Lv.6 (15 / 5000)] … Chakra reserves at Chūnin level.
Mental strength approaching Jōnin level.
Two core techniques maxed out to power rivaling B-rank—perhaps even touching A-rank.
His current strength had long since surpassed that of his deceased Chūnin father.
He was ready.
Ryū returned to the Village and found Uchiha Nao waiting anxiously at the training ground.
“I’m going to apply for graduation,” he said calmly, as though stating an ordinary fact.
Nao froze.
In the eyes that always brimmed with arrogance, complex emotions surfaced for the first time—ones Ryū couldn’t fully decipher.
Shock.
A sense of inevitability.
And a trace of panic that even she hadn’t realized was there.
“You… you finally decided to make your move?” she said after a long pause.
“Yeah,” Ryū replied.
“It’s time to see what the real battlefield is like.” Nao bit her lip, then suddenly lifted her head, her dark eyes stubbornly locking onto his.
“Then I’m going too!
I won’t let a guy like you leave me behind!” Ryū looked at her, smiled faintly, and said nothing more.
He turned, opened his door, said goodbye to his mother, and walked straight toward the red building at the heart of the Village—the symbol of its highest authority.
The Hokage Building.
Without the slightest hesitation, he submitted his application for early graduation.
Three years of quiet accumulation had come to an end.