Sora lay motionless on the cool lotus leaf.
He felt as if every bone in his body had been dismantled and haphazardly reassembled.
Exhaustion. Soreness.
And there, resting quietly beside his cheek, was the cup of "Deluxe Tonkotsu Chashu Flavor" instant noodles, emitting a cheap yet enticing aroma.
This was something he had personally picked off the shelf at a Konoha supermarket last night.
Bought with money he had painstakingly earned from missions.
Now, it had become his master's "reward" for him.
Was this reasonable?
No, it was not.
"Hahaha, kid, don't be so stingy."
Jiraiya's big face was piled high with a mischievous grin.
He squatted down and poked Sora's slightly rounded, swollen cheek.
"This is called taking from the disciple and using it for the disciple!"
"When this training ends and we return to the village, I'll treat you to the best barbecue! All you can eat!"
Sora didn't even have the strength to roll his eyes.
Barbecue.
A pie in the sky, painted far in the future.
He chose silence.
"Alright, since you've already grasped the basics of balancing natural energy, the rest of the training will be much simpler."
Jiraiya stood up and clapped the dust off his hands.
"It's just a process of repeatedly maintaining that balanced state for longer."
"With your talent, I believe you'll master it quickly."
He changed the subject.
"So, your master here needs to head back to the village for some important business."
Important business?
A huge question mark appeared in Sora's mind.
You're someone who just took extended leave from the Hokage and brought your disciple out for training—an "idle" person. What important business could you possibly have?
*Puff.*
A cloud of white smoke exploded.
A shadow clone identical to Jiraiya appeared in place.
"From now on, my shadow clone will supervise your training."
Jiraiya's real body winked at Sora.
"If you have any questions, feel free to ask him anytime."
With that, he formed seals.
Reverse Summoning Technique released.
A puff of white smoke rose, and Jiraiya's figure vanished instantly.
He left decisively, without hesitation.
On the giant lotus leaf, only the bruised and swollen Sora remained, along with Jiraiya's somewhat dazed-looking shadow clone.
And, when a mountain breeze blew past, a faint lingering scent in the air—of Jiraiya's resolute escape.
Just then.
An aged yet vigorous voice drifted from afar.
"Little Jiraiya! Little Sora!"
"Come eat! Your grandma Shima made your favorite—deep-fried moths!"
It was Shima Sage.
Sora: "..."
Jiraiya's shadow clone: "..."
Sora slowly turned his stiff neck toward the shadow clone.
He finally understood what this so-called "important business" was.
And here I specially prepared so many instant noodles and canned goods for you.
You don't even want to eat a single bug meal!
...
The following days fell into a monotonous yet highly efficient cycle.
Day one.
Sora sat cross-legged; Jiraiya's shadow clone stood beside him, black staff in hand.
"Begin."
Sora closed his eyes and guided natural energy.
One second, two seconds, three seconds...
*Thud!*
The staff fell, precisely striking the back of his head.
"You got distracted! Balance broken!"
Sora climbed up from the ground, rubbed his head, and sat properly again.
Again.
*Thud!*
"Chakra output too strong! You think you can suppress natural energy with your own power? Foolish!"
Again.
*Thud!*
"Too slow! Natural energy flows with a rhythm—you didn't keep up!"
Day two.
*Thud! Thud! Thud!*
The striking sounds remained Myoboku Mountain's main melody.
But the frequency had clearly decreased.
Sora could now maintain perfect balance for over ten seconds.
The bruises on his face had faded some, only to be replaced by new ones.
Jiraiya's shadow clone no longer scolded verbally.
It simply swung the black staff in silence, like the strictest, emotionless machine.
Day three.
Sora's balance time broke one minute.
Surprise appeared on the shadow clone's face for the first time.
Day five.
Sora could maintain balance for ten minutes.
The shadow clone no longer struck.
It simply stood quietly to the side, watching the boy repeatedly tame that raging energy into docile sheep.
The surprise on its face had turned to numbness.
Day seven.
Morning.
Fukasaku Sage appeared on the lotus leaf at some point.
He stood with hands behind his back, quietly observing the cross-legged boy.
Jiraiya's shadow clone stood respectfully behind him, not daring to breathe loudly.
Sora slowly opened his eyes.
A week of grueling training had made him look noticeably thinner.
But his amber eyes shone with astonishing brilliance.
As if stars were born and died in their depths.
He bowed slightly to Fukasaku Sage.
Then.
He sat again.
Hands gently clapped together in front of his chest.
*Clap.*
A crisp, barely audible sound.
The next second.
*Boom!*
A suffocatingly massive, utterly pure energy erupted from Sora's body!
It wasn't chakra.
It was Sage Art chakra!
No excess movement, no energy leakage.
From normal state to perfect Sage Mode.
Switch time: less than one second!
No toadification features appeared on Sora's face.
His nose didn't enlarge; no bumps on his face.
The only change: a perfect circle of orange-red eyeshadow, like sunset glow, emerged around his amber eyes.
It lent his handsome face a sacred, majestic aura.
The wind stopped.
The surrounding air seemed to thicken from the presence of this power.
Jiraiya's shadow clone gaped, frozen in place.
One week.
Just one week.
This thirteen-year-old boy had achieved the perfect Sage Mode that his real body had spent years—even decades—failing to reach!
Was this... still human?
"Hoo..."
Fukasaku Sage exhaled a long breath of turbid air.
His eternally stern old face was now filled with complexity.
Shock, gratification, disbelief.
In the end, all emotions merged into a sigh of profound admiration.
"Monster."
He looked at Sora and said word by word.
"A true monster."
He had lived over eight hundred years and seen countless prodigies.
Jiraiya, Namikaze Minato.
They had both been peaks of the ninja world, favorites of their era.
But none like this boy before him.
"That child Minato spent quite some time here to learn Sage Mode."
Fukasaku's voice grew distant.
"He was gifted—one of the most talented humans I've seen."
"Yet he still needed considerable time to enter Sage Mode."
"He couldn't switch in the midst of fast-changing battle."
He turned, his murky old eyes fixed intensely on Sora.
"And you..."
"You've achieved perfect balance, perfect switching."
"Even my wife and I sense no excess toad aura on you."
"What you've mastered is the purest, most primal, most powerful Sage Mode!"
Fukasaku stepped forward, his withered hand gently patting Sora's shoulder.
"Kid."
"From today onward, you are the greatest sage in Myoboku Mountain's history."
The greatest... sage?
This evaluation was extraordinarily high.
Almost legendary!
Sora slowly dispersed Sage Mode.
The immense presence vanished without a trace.
He returned to that harmless, handsome boy.
He bowed to Fukasaku once more.
"Thank you for your guidance, Lord Fukasaku."
His face bore a humble, perfectly measured smile.
As if the jaw-dropping display just now hadn't been him.
This mindset, this talent.
Admiration nearly overflowed from Fukasaku's eyes.
Child of prophecy...
The Great Toad Sage's prophecy...
It might truly come to pass with this child.
"Since you've mastered Sage Mode," he said slowly, a barely detectable excitement in his tone, "there are things you should know."
He turned, gesturing for Sora and the shadow clone to follow.
"Come with me. Meet someone."
Sora's heart stirred. Who in Myoboku Mountain warranted such solemn introduction from Fukasaku? The answer was obvious.
He said nothing, quietly following.
Jiraiya's shadow clone scratched its head in confusion and trailed behind. Of course, it had no idea its real body was currently hiding in some dark corner of the village, smugly avoiding Shima's "cuisine."
The journey was silent. Fukasaku led Sora through vast mushroom forests, leaping over rushing streams. The air grew damper, steeped in ancient aura—as if every inch of soil and plant held eons of time.
Finally, they reached the entrance to a massive cave. Vines and moss covered it, leaving only a narrow crevice. Faint dripping water and heavy, rhythmic breathing—like bellows—echoed from within.
"This is the deepest part of Myoboku Mountain—the residence of the Great Toad Sage," Fukasaku stopped and whispered to Sora. His expression was grave, utterly different from before.
"Inside, speak little, make no noise, and show no disrespect."
Sora nodded in understanding.
He gazed into the depths, mind racing. Great Toad Sage, prophecy, Senjutsu.
There must be intricate connections. About himself? Or the future?
Suppressing his thoughts, Sora followed Fukasaku into the cave.
The interior was far vaster than it appeared. Glowing moss on the walls emitted eerie green light, illuminating the mysterious space.
At the center, a massive pool flowed quietly, its water deep and gleaming strangely.
Above it, a huge stone platform rose.
Upon the platform lay an unbelievably enormous creature—the supreme ruler of Myoboku Mountain, the Great Toad Sage who had lived over a thousand years.
Its body was wrinkled, skin like withered bark, eyes closed in slumber. Its breathing was heavy and long; each exhale shook the cave.
In Sora's mind, a long-absent prompt quietly flashed:
Fukasaku approached respectfully and called softly.
"Great Toad Sage, Fukasaku comes to pay respects."
The Great Toad Sage's massive eyelids trembled slowly and heavily.
Then, its murky eyes—seemingly capable of piercing all worldly things—opened gradually.
Its gaze pierced through Sora's facade, through his body, as if seeing into his soul's depths.
For a moment, the cave fell into eerie silence. Even Jiraiya's shadow clone dared not make a sound, standing dumbly.
"Oh..." The Great Toad Sage's voice was like grinding stone—ancient and hoarse, each word carrying a millennium of vicissitude. "The child you brought, Fukasaku?"
Fukasaku replied reverently: "Yes, Great Sage. This child is the genius I reported—who mastered perfect Sage Mode in just one week."
"Perfect Sage Mode... hmm..." The Great Toad Sage murmured, gaze still on Sora. "I sense it—an ancient, powerful aura on him, unlike any other."
Its gaze sharpened, as if trying to see through Sora completely. Sora remained calm outwardly, but he knew the "Uzumaki immortal body" fused within him, and the system's secrets, might leave traces before such a being.
"Child." The Great Toad Sage spoke suddenly, voice weary yet undeniably authoritative. "What is your name?"
"This junior is Akashi Sora." Sora showed no panic, bowing with steady tone.
"Akashi Sora..." The Great Toad Sage savored the name, huge eyes narrowing slightly. "I see... the wheels of fate are accelerating."
Its massive head swayed faintly, as if in pained contemplation.
"My prophecies... chaotic and fragmented." It spoke slowly, each word a sigh. "Once, I prophesied that Jiraiya's child would bring change to the ninja world. One a savior, one a destroyer."
"Later, that child became Jiraiya's disciple; I thought the savior was Minato."
Jiraiya's shadow clone opened its mouth but stayed silent.
"Then the prophecy was altered; another emerged..." The Great Toad Sage's voice grew deeper. "The vortex of fate is more complex than I imagined."
Sora listened quietly, thoughts surging. Prophecy? Fate? To him, these were inexplicable mysticism—or perhaps analyzable, exploitable "concepts."
"I prophesied that child bears a heavy burden; his choices will decide the world's path." Its gaze refocused on Sora, eyes piercing billions of stars. "He will gather myriad powers, bringing unprecedented change."
"And you..." It shifted abruptly, tone suddenly resolute. "You are that... Child of Prophecy!"
The words exploded like thunder in Sora's mind. Child of Prophecy? Him?
Fukasaku trembled all over, excitedly kneeling. The shadow clone looked bewildered, clearly not grasping the depth.
"I see... lines of fate weaving on you." The Great Toad Sage continued, massive body quivering faintly. "Talent far beyond ordinary, potential to devour all."
"Your appearance clarifies the once-obscure prophecy."
Sora showed no outward ripple, but inwardly a storm raged. Devour? Only the system and he knew that word. The Great Toad Sage sensed "devouring"—or rather, the source energy fluctuations it caused?
"Great Sage, this..." Fukasaku asked cautiously, voice trembling with excitement. "Is the prophecy truly coming to pass?"
"The time is not yet, but the trend is clear." The Great Toad Sage sounded weary. "The world's fate is stirred by a mighty force I cannot fully glimpse."
"But this child... his path is fraught with challenges."
It sighed long, huge eyes closing again. It seemed exhausted, sinking back into slumber.
"Child, since you are the Child of Prophecy," Fukasaku turned to Sora, gaze full of awe and expectation. "You must shoulder your mission."
"What should I do?" Sora asked timely, showing perfectly measured curiosity.
"Hmm..." Fukasaku pondered, expression complex. "Prophecies are often vague; we must explore and interpret them ourselves."
Mission.
Sora was no stranger to the word.
Becoming a ninja meant missions, fulfilling duties.
But he disliked it.
It always tied to sacrifice, trouble, uncontrollable surprises.
"I understand, Lord Fukasaku." Sora bowed slightly, face showing the right mix of solemnity and faint confusion.
The reaction a boy just learning he was the "Child of Prophecy" should have.
Perfect.
Fukasaku nodded satisfactorily at the sight.
A teachable child.
"The prophecy is vague, but the direction clear." He patted Sora's shoulder. "You must grow stronger—strong enough to face all future variables."
"I will." Sora replied firmly.
It aligned perfectly with his own goals.
"Good." Fukasaku turned to leave the ancient cave. "You've mastered Sage Mode, but Myoboku's training goes beyond. 'Frog Kata'—toad taijutsu—is an indispensable part of Senjutsu training."
He glanced at the still-dazed shadow clone.
"Next, let this fool's shadow clone teach you Frog Kata."
"Yes."
Sora bowed again.
Fukasaku left with steady steps.
In the cave, only Sora and the dumbstruck shadow clone remained.
The shadow clone scratched its head, finally recovering from the "Child of Prophecy" shock.
It looked at Sora, mouth opening as if to speak, but unsure where to start.
This script was too fantastical.
Sora ignored its hesitation.
He quietly reviewed everything in his mind.
Great Toad Sage, prophecy, devouring.
That millennium-old monster had indeed sensed something.
But only that much.
It couldn't see the system's essence, attributing it to "talent" and "potential."
As for the prophecy...
To Sora, it seemed more like vague future extrapolation based on vast data.
Referenceable, but never fully trusted.
Fate was most reliable only in one's own hands.
"Um... Sora," the shadow clone finally managed. "You're really the Child of Prophecy?"
*Clap.*
Sora raised a hand, interrupting.
Multiple Shadow Clone Technique.
*Puff.*
White smoke cleared.
Another "Akashi Sora" appeared in the cave.
This clone was identical to the original in chakra texture and demeanor.
The shadow clone stared in shock.
"You..."
"Master." Sora smiled, cutting it off.
He pointed to his clone.
"From now on, my shadow clone will continue learning 'Frog Kata' with you."
"Huh?" The shadow clone grew more confused. "Then what about you?"
"I need to return to the village for a bit."
"Return? Why?"
"To better understand the prophecy." Sora gave his prepared, perfect excuse.
His expression turned solemn and profound.
"The Child of Prophecy shouldn't just train bitterly in the mountains. I need to return to people, to the center of the vortex—to personally feel, observe, and understand where this world is headed."
His words rang with righteousness and philosophical depth.
The shadow clone was completely taken in.
Though it didn't fully understand, it sounded impressive.
"I see..." It nodded in sudden realization. "Worthy of the Child of Prophecy—your mindset is on another level."
Sora maintained his smile.
Of course it was different.
Because his true thoughts were something the clone could never comprehend.
Senjutsu: already mastered.
Frog Kata and other minor Senjutsu applications—let the clone learn them.
Wind Release: Rasengan transformation fusion—let the clone research slowly.
Multiple Shadow Clone experience would return to the original anyway.
Efficiency: maximized.
As for himself...
He really couldn't take it anymore.
One week.
A full week.
His daily menu: instant noodles, canned goods, compressed biscuits.
At first, it felt novel.
After too much, only the nauseating taste of industrial additives remained.
Worst was Shima's unavoidable "warm hospitality."
Despite every excuse, he couldn't fully escape.
The crispy shell of deep-fried moths.
The bursting texture of stewed worms.
And that dish Shima called "top delicacy"—slimy, cold slug sashimi...
Just recalling it made Sora's stomach churn again.
Right now, prophecy, mission, world peace—he didn't care about any of it.
He just wanted a meal.
A real, steaming, full-of-life, normal human meal!
Barbecue.
Sizzling fatty pork belly.
Juicy, tender beef tongue.
Paired with a bowl of white rice.
The thought, like madly growing devil vines, instantly ensnared his entire mind.
He had to go back.
Now.
Immediately.
"Then, Master." Sora bowed respectfully to the shadow clone. "I'll leave my clone in your care."
"No problem!" The shadow clone thumped its chest. "I'll definitely train him into the strongest toad taijutsu master!"
It looked at Sora's clone with enthusiasm.
Sora said no more.
He formed seals.
Reverse Summoning released.
In the final second before leaving Myoboku, he turned back and gave his calm-faced clone the last, most crucial instruction.
"Wind Release: Rasengan—prioritize development."
The clone nodded slightly.
The next second.
Sora's figure vanished from the damp cave.
...
Konoha Village.
Familiar air carrying the scent of sunlight flooded his nose.
Sora appeared in his small apartment.
Utterly different from Myoboku's ancient, humid atmosphere.
This was the civilized world.
His home.
He stripped off the clothes he'd worn a week in Myoboku—now stained with bug and soil smells—and tossed them in the trash.
Then he rushed to the bathroom, scrubbing himself head to toe three times with scalding water.
As if to peel away those sticky, horrific taste memories from his body.
He changed into clean, comfortable casual clothes.
His flaxen short hair still damp with steam.
The whole person: reborn.
He stood before the mirror, looking at the handsome boy reflected.
A week of grueling training had slimmed his cheeks, but his amber eyes shone brighter than ever.
His body had undergone qualitative change.
The foundation of the perfect sage body was now fully solidified.
This was a perfect, full-score training session.
Naturally, he deserved a perfect, full-score reward.
Without pause, he pulled out the bulging wallet from his storage cabinet.
His Anbu "pay card."
Today, it would serve a far more important purpose than assassination or intelligence.
He opened the door and stepped out.
Evening in Konoha bustled with life.
Off-duty ninjas, schoolchildren, street vendors' calls.
Full of everyday vitality.
Sora inhaled deeply.
This was where humans belonged.
He wove through the crowd, steps light, destination clear.
Soon, a shop with a "Charcoal Barbecue" sign appeared.
Even before entering, the domineering aroma—charcoal smoke mixed with meat fat—slipped through the curtain.
Precisely striking his battered, fragile stomach.
This was it.
He pushed aside the curtain and walked in.
"Welcome!"
A kimono-clad waitress greeted enthusiastically.
The shop was lively, voices booming.
White, tempting smoke rose from every table.
Sora took a seat in a window corner.
The waitress placed a grease-stained menu before him.
"What would you like, sir?"
Sora didn't look at the menu.
He simply looked up, flashing an incredibly bright, energetic smile.
He raised one finger, pointing from the top of the meat section to the bottom.
From premium wagyu beef belly to pork neck.
"From here to here."
"Three portions of each, to start."