"Swordsmanship? That's very unlikely of you, Yoichi. Why the change?" Tsunade raised an eyebrow, watching his clumsy attempts.
His strokes were forceful and overwhelming, but they lacked any hint of fluidity. To her, he looked like a titan trying to use a needle.
In Tsunade's eyes, this was just the basic kenjutsu seen in any low-ranking Uchiha. Seeing him struggle was suspicious, like a man acting strange in front of his wife. She knew his usual perfection, making this sudden awkwardness feel intentional.
"I'm merely expanding my options," Yoichi said, wiping sweat from his face with a steady hand. "A blade is just another way to reach a target. It pays to be versatile."
He didn't mention the real problem.
His Heavenly Demon Qi was too much for ordinary steel to handle.
Unlike other types of Sword Qi that offered sharpness or speed, his energy provided nothing but overwhelming, destructive force.
It flooded the metal like a tidal wave, turning refined tools into blunt instruments of ruin.
Several practice swords had already shattered under the pressure, leaving behind nothing but a heap of scraps.
Tsunade stared at his scarred, muscular physique and felt flabbergasted. With his strength, he could already pulverize anything with his bare hands.
The idea of him needing a weapon felt redundant and almost terrifying.
Back in the village, the group was treated like superstars. Citizens cheered as the new Chuunin passed, sparking rumors that they were the greatest generation in history.
Yoichi and the future Sannin handled the flattery with simple, polite secondary compliments, though his mind hung around on his training progress.
Meanwhile, Sunagakure stood firm against a storm of diplomatic fury. The Hidden Mist and Hidden Stone were outraged by the losses their genin suffered during the "Attrition" phase.
They demanded heavy reparations and resource rights, claiming the exam was a rigged slaughter.
Suna's council remained unyielding, flatly denying any sabotage. They argued the high mortality rate simply proved the weakness of the other villages.
There was no open war, but the tension at the borders became palpable. Patrols were doubled, and the air between nations grew heavy with suspicion.
While the great nations bickered over blood money and trade rights, the world settled into a fragile, uneasy peace that felt like it could snap at any moment.
Back at the training grounds, the sound of snapping steel echoed through the air.
Another practice sword lay in pieces at Yoichi's feet, ruined by the sheer pressure of his energy.
The dull metal now resembled useless chunks of ore, glowing faintly before cooling.
"You're not practicing, you're just breaking things," Tsunade noted, her eyes moving from the broken blade to his scarred hands. "That force is too much for a normal sword. You're trying to pour a river into a cup."
The Uchiha didn't look up, his mind focused on the failed output. "The Heavenly Demon Qi only knows how to destroy. It doesn't refine; it overwhelms. Finding a medium that can survive the flow is proving difficult."
Tsunade stepped into the circle, kicking a shard of steel away. "Then stop treating the blade like an enemy. If you can't learn to temper that power, you'll never be a swordsman. You'll just be a man holding an expensive piece of trash."
Yoichi remained silent, considering the advice.
The wild nature of the Qi was the true problem, but suppressing it felt like trying to cage a storm.
It seemed unlikely that any standard metal in the world could truly hold his intent without shattering.
"What is with the pile of scrap? Planning on becoming a blacksmith, Yoichi?" Jiraiya's voice rang out as he and Orochimaru emerged from the trees.
The white-haired boy strolled forward with a boisterous grin, while Orochimaru trailed behind, his pale face fixed in a look of cold, clinical interest.
Tsunade turned away from the broken steel and glared at the newcomers. "Where have you two been? We were supposed to meet an hour ago."
She shifted her weight, her arms crossed over her chest in clear annoyance.
Jiraiya let out a nervous laugh and scratched the back of his head, his gaze shifting guiltily. "Well, you see, I got sidetracked by some... vital research near the hot springs." His red face told the real story of his peeping, earned by the faint red mark of a previous slap on his cheek.
Orochimaru ignored the bickering, his golden eyes focused on a shard of Yoichi's ruined sword. "I was refining my Earth Style in the ravine. Unlike some, I prefer not to waste my time on carnal distractions."
He dropped the shard, the metal clinking against the stone as Orochimaru looked at Yoichi, his expression indistinct.
"A sword is a tool of precision. You are treating it with the same violence you use to crush bones. It is an inefficient use of iron."
Yoichi cupped his chin, hearing the suggestions.
The air around him felt heavy, the Heavenly Demon Qi still simmering beneath his skin. He didn't offer an excuse for his clumsy form, knowing the results spoke for themselves.
"You are trying to fit a mountain into a small box," Jiraiya said, finally dropping the act. He darted at Yoichi with a rare flash of insight. "These standard drills are too small for what you are packing. That power needs space to breathe."
Jiraiya stepped closer, his wild white hair messy from his "research" trip. "How about a change of scenery? I can take you to Mount Myōboku. The sages there deal with energy that is just as wild as yours. Maybe the Great Toad Sage can help you stop snapping every blade in the Land of Fire."
Two birds, one stone, Yoichi thought.
The Great Toad Sage might hold ties to the ancient Martial Ancestor. Certainty remained elusive, but the possibility was enough to stir the young man's blood.
Also, Mount Myōboku was a legendary sage region, its natural energy incredibly dense.
The atmosphere there is on par with Shikkotsu Forest and Ryūchi Cave, the boy mused.
Natural energy was vital to cultivate the Heavenly Demon Qi further. For a martial artist, such an environment served as a perfect crucible. This heavy pressure would provide the resistance needed for the power to finally settle.
"I will go," Yoichi said, cutting through Jiraiya's laughter.
Then, he added with calm intensity. "If the sages can handle the energy of the world, they can teach me to handle my own."
Jiraiya grinned, giving a thumbs-up despite the red mark on his face. "That is the spirit! The journey is long and the food is mostly bugs, but the training is unbeatable." The white-haired ninja felt glad to bring a peer capable of handling the mountain's pressure.
Tsunade sighed, crossing her arms, while Orochimaru watched with flickering curiosity.
Yoichi gathered the scrapped metal from the ground with deliberate movements.
If the Ancestor's path is not there, I will carve a new one, the martial artist decided. The time for breaking tools had passed; it was time to become the weapon.
...
The trek lasted several days.
Jiraiya guided the group through mountain passes that defied standard maps.
The air grew heavy, vibrating with a primal power that made the skin of the young shinobi tingle.
Gargantuan flora soon swallowed the path. Giant mushrooms and towering stone statues loomed over the travelers. Yoichi felt his internal energy react to the sudden thickness of the world.
The natural energy here is incredibly dense.
Each breath felt like drinking liquid lead.
The resistance pushed against his meridians, forcing his power to compress.
The giant stone gates of Mount Myōboku appeared through the mist.
Two massive toad statues stood guard, radiating ancient authority.
The group halted at the threshold, surrounded by the distant croaking of hidden creatures.
"Welcome to the land of the toads," Jiraiya announced with pride. "Try not to step on anyone important."
Orochimaru scanned the gates with clinical greed, while Tsunade wiped road dust from her brow.
Sure enough, a puff of smoke erupted at the gate.
Two small toads in capes appeared.
Fukasaku hopped forward, while Shima scanned the newcomers with a sharp, maternal eye.
"You are late, Jiraiya," Fukasaku barked, but his gaze quickly shifted.
The elder's eyes landed on Yoichi.
For a fleeting second, his stern face softened into a look of genuine relief.
Shima shared a brief, knowing glance, her posture relaxing as she observed the familiar child.
The warmth was subtle, but Yoichi's perception was razor-sharp.
He caught the slight tilt of Fukasaku's head and the hidden glimmer in their eyes.
So they were expecting someone like me, the boy realized. This was not a standard greeting; it seemed to be an acknowledgment of a presence they had missed for a long time.
Jiraiya stepped forward, striking a flamboyant pose with his arms crossed. "Fear not, elders! The Great Jiraiya has returned, and I have brought the finest talent Konoha has to offer!" He let out a loud, boisterous laugh, ignoring the red mark still on his cheek. "Especially this guy, Yoichi. He's got enough power to level a mountain, but he's about as graceful as a falling rock."
The white-haired boy remained oblivious to the silent communication between the toads and his friend. He simply grinned, proud to show off his teammates to his mentors. Shima sighed at the boy's antics, but her focus remained anchored on the Uchiha.
Yoichi inclined his head, his eyes narrowing.
The connection to the Martial Ancestor felt less like a myth and more like a hidden truth waiting behind these stone walls.
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Thanks to Artem_5195 for the Power Stones!