The heavy iron door groaned open, and a squad of Cloud shinobi entered the cell. Instead of the usual torture implements, they carried a set of keys and a fresh set of simple, grey clothes. One guard stepped forward, his face tight with a mixture of fear and reluctant respect. He reached out and clicked the heavy chakra-suppressing cuffs open.
Yoichi didn't move at first. He felt the sudden rush of his internal energy as the metal fell away, though his reserves were still pitifully low. He rubbed his bruised wrists, his eyes tracking every movement of the shinobi in the room.
The Raikage is a gambler, Yoichi thought, his gaze remaining cold. He wants to see if a month of misery was enough to make me prefer the sun over the cell.
"You're free to move within the designated sectors of the facility," the guard muttered, tossing the clothes onto the bed. "Don't get any ideas. There is nothing but water and death for a thousand miles in every direction."
Yoichi stood up slowly, his body protesting with every inch of movement. His muscles were weak, but the rhythmic thud in his chest was becoming more pronounced now that the seals were gone. He knew the general nature of the Island Turtle from his knowledge of the world, but the actual layout was a mystery. This living fortress was a labyrinth of stone and shell he had never navigated.
He thinks he's giving me freedom, Yoichi mused as he pulled on the clean shirt. In reality, he's just given me a larger training ground to map out.
He walked out of the cell, his steps light and silent despite his injuries. He ignored the glares of the guards and focused on the salt-heavy air filling his lungs. He was out of the dark, and for a rational mind like his, the unfamiliar island was now a puzzle waiting to be solved.
The guards led Yoichi through a series of rising stone tunnels. The air transitioned from the stale dampness of the dungeon to a crisp, salt-tinged breeze. As they reached the final threshold, the heavy gates parted, and the sheer scale of his prison finally hit him.
Before his eyes, a massive, sprawling ecosystem stretched toward the horizon. This was no mere ship or rock; it was the back of a primordial titan.
Great jagged peaks of shell rose like mountains, covered in thick, ancient forests of twisted trees.
Massive vines as thick as palace pillars draped over the ridges, and waterfalls of fresh water cascaded into hidden valleys. In the distance, Yoichi saw Kumo structures built directly into the crevices of the shell, looking like tiny barnacles on the back of a god.
It truly is a living world, Yoichi thought, his eyes scanning the horizon where the shell met the endless blue of the ocean.
The sky above was a brilliant, blinding canvas, a stark contrast to the months of darkness he had endured. He looked at the white foam churning at the edges of the "island," realizing the entire landmass was moving at a steady, relentless pace.
The panoramic view was breathtaking, yet it served as a grim reminder of the Raikage's words. There was no landmark to guide a swim, no shore in sight, and no path back to the continent.
"So, this is the legendary Genbu," Yoichi whispered.
He stood at the edge of a high ridge, his small frame buffeted by the high-altitude winds.
The sheer height made the shinobi below look like insects.
While the guards watched him for any sign of despair, Yoichi was already memorizing the tilt of the shell and the flow of the winds. He was trapped in a paradise, but for a shinobi of his caliber, every mountain peak and every forest canopy was a potential hiding spot for his next move.
As Yoichi walked along the high ridges, the presence of the Kumo shinobi became impossible to ignore. They lined the stone pathways and watched from the balconies of their shell-carved outposts. Their stares were heavy, filled with a thick, palpable disdain for the Uchiha name. To them, he was a captured enemy, a killer who had stained their soil with the blood of their scouts.
The air is thick with killing intent, Yoichi noted, his expression remaining as flat as a lake. But it is tempered by something else.
Beneath the scowls, a flicker of reluctant admiration lived in their eyes. News of the month-long interrogation had spread through the ranks. They knew the methods used by Jin. They knew the strength of the lightning used to sear his flesh. Seeing him walk with a straight back and a steady gaze forced a bridge of professional respect.
"Look at that brat," a scarred Chunin spat, leaning against a stone pillar. "A month of Jin's 'hospitality' and he still walks like he owns the path. I've seen grown men turn to babbling fools in three days."
"It's unnatural," another replied, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "He didn't give up a single name. Not a single secret. Is the Leaf breeding stones instead of children now?"
A veteran shinobi nearby crossed his arms, looking out over the moving ocean. "It doesn't matter what he thinks, escaping here is a futile struggle. Let him walk. Even the most stubborn bird stops flapping its wings when it realizes there's no shore in sight."
Yoichi's obsidian eyes swept over them, cold and deep like the void. The younger shinobi looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with that dark, unyielding gaze.
"Keep your eyes forward, Uchiha," a guard growled, though his voice lacked the usual bite of authority. "Don't think this means we've forgotten what you did in your earlier...excursions."
Yoichi stopped for a brief second, his voice dry and raspy from weeks of silence. "Memory is a heavy burden. I suggest you carry yours more quietly."
The guard bristled, but a commander nearby raised a hand to settle his men. The silence that followed was heavy with a grudging acknowledgment of the boy's mental resilience. Yoichi continued his pace, feeling their judgment like a physical weight. He understood the shinobi heart; they valued power and grit above all else, even in their enemies. He was a ghost walking through a village of lightning, a monster they couldn't help but respect.
Yoichi moved away from the main outposts, his steps measured and deliberate. He didn't rush. He walked with the air of a tourist, yet his inquisitive eyes were performing a cold, rational dissection of the environment. Every few meters, he paused to observe the moss on the trees or the angle of the shell's slope, cataloging the terrain for future use.
Gravity is slightly inconsistent here, he noted, feeling the subtle tilt as the giant turtle crested a wave. The wind currents are also warped by the creature's constant movement.
He ventured into the thick, ancient forests that covered the shell's ridges. Giant ferns brushed against his legs, their leaves damp with the spray of the sea. Yoichi examined the flora, searching for any herbs or roots that could supplement his recovery. His knowledge of biology was vast, but many of the species here were unique to the Genbu's ecosystem, isolated from the rest of the world for centuries.
No obvious medicinal plants yet, but the density of the air suggests a high concentration of natural energy.
He approached the edge of a massive drop-off, where the shell met the open air. He knelt, pressing a palm against the rough, calcified surface beneath him. A faint, rhythmic vibration deep within the structure. The heartbeat of the titan. It was a massive, slow pulse that resonated through his own bones.
The facility is built into the primary nerve centers of the shell. If I ever need to cause a distraction, those are the points I must target.
His investigation led him to a series of stone pillars etched with ancient Kumo seals. He stood before them, his mind breaking down the complex patterns. These weren't just for defense; they were navigation arrays, likely used by the Cloud's beast-tamers to guide the turtle's direction.
I am in a fortress that is both a living god and a masterpiece of engineering, Yoichi concluded. Escaping isn't just about moving; it's about understanding the rhythm of this archaic beast.
He found a secluded hollow beneath a massive, gnarled root system. It offered a clear view of the patrol paths while remaining hidden from the sky. It was the perfect vantage point. He sat down, his body still aching, but his mind now possessed a crude map of his surroundings.
Reaching into his consciousness, Yoichi took his time to consult the Martial Ancestor's Notes. The ethereal knowledge unfurled with a clarity that ignored his physical pain. His primary concern was the next stage, the Innate Realm. His situation right now felt precarious, yet his mind was set to increase his strength in a tremendous manner.
[How to break through Innate Realm? It's quite complicated and straightforward at the same time.]
The text shifted as he focused. He was surrounded by strict surveillance and possessed zero resources. Despite his battered figure, he sought the path to evolution.
[If the Mortal Realm is a gateway to physical strength, the Innate Realm is a mystical concept that changes the whole aspect of Martial Arts. What you need is the Qi around the surroundings to cultivate it into your physique.]
Yoichi read further. Each martial discipline had its own breathing method. Mount Hua required the intent of a battlefield. Kunlun demanded jagged peaks. The Heavenly Demon Scripture was even more brutal. It revolved around the Five Elements. To reach that stage, the user had to endure the excruciating refinement of their internal organs.
[Fire for the Heart. Wood for the Liver. Earth for the Spleen. Metal for the Lungs. Water for the Kidneys. Water nourishes Wood, Wood fuels Fire, and the chain continues.]
It was strikingly similar to sensing Natural Energy, yet far more volatile.
[Qi in the atmosphere cannot be seen with the eyes. It must be understood through extreme concentration. Once you lose focus, the Qi will wreak havoc and seriously harm your organs!]
I'm still far away from this, Yoichi mused. He was still at the initiated stage of the Bone Forging Realm. He could not cultivate the internal elements until his skeletal foundation was solid. Attempting to draw in raw Qi now would only shatter his remaining health.
For now, I'll seek some ways to use my silver tickets without anyone knowing my most-prized ability.
The boy remained still, his obsidian eyes half-closed as if he were merely resting. He didn't want to draw attention by performing any flashy movements or strange postures yet. Inside his mind, the system interface flickered to life. He had several Silver Tickets banked from his previous trials and the torture he had endured.
Using them was a risk. If the reward manifested physically or created a sudden spike in his chakra signature, the Cloud guards would be on him in seconds. He needed something subtle. He needed a breakthrough that looked like a natural recovery or a silent technique that wouldn't alert the sensors.
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Thanks again to doomslayer24, Snowwwww, Daemonic_Dragon and Strxnz for the Power Stones! Thanks!
As for the story, I'm going to add the best thing in this world: Time Skips! Let's head out for a minimum of 6 months or a maximum of 9 months so that none of you will be stunned by the story.