Konoha's Scientific Research Institute had expanded relentlessly with the progress of the age.
Deep beneath the surface, entire underground sectors were now dedicated solely to the study of bloodlines originating from the Magic Continent.
The former underground bloodline laboratory once controlled by Root had been reclassified as an anonymous "Level 1.5," wedged neatly between the Tailed Beast Research Floor and the standard Bloodline Research Level Two.
Inside the sterile white laboratory, Root—dressed in a pristine lab coat—stood beside an operating platform. Upon it lay a sleeping clone, its body threaded with tubes and monitoring lines.
Not far away, the original body of Uchiha Soren watched calmly.
"Supreme Leader," Root said in a low, steady voice.
"Although we do have successful precedents, the vast majority of them are limited to the Yuki Clan of Kirigakure."
"For ordinary individuals, attempting to fuse Frost Dragon blood results in immediate death in most cases. A small minority survive the initial phase—only to be frozen from the inside out shortly afterward."
"The magical factors within Frost Dragon blood are extremely hostile toward chakra native to the Ninja World."
Soren nodded slightly.
Activating Heavenly Constant Authority, his perception extended downward into the institute's second underground level—where the captured Frost Dragon tribe was imprisoned.
Most of the Frost Dragons stood around ten meters tall.
The strongest among them—the Frost Dragon King—reached nearly fifteen meters, its combat strength approaching Level 50.
Relying on racial advantages alone, it could hold its own against an ordinary Shadow-level ninja.
These Frost Dragons once ruled the northern lakes beyond Tob Forest, having seized control of the dwarven capital within the Angelisia Mountains.
There were twenty dragons in total.
Even Chiyo alone could not suppress them all.
In the end, it had taken the combined might of the Southeastern Ninja Army, led by Uchiha Baru and Vice Commander Senju Tōka, to capture them—poison weakening their defenses before overwhelming force sealed the outcome.
With their overlords defeated, the subordinate demi-human races scattered—some fleeing, others surrendering.
Konoha's territory expanded yet again.
Due to their rarity, experimentation on Frost Dragons remained comparatively restrained: blood extraction, scale harvesting… and relentless forced breeding to increase their numbers.
The Frost Dragon King lay sprawled weakly across the icy metal floor, its massive body trembling, terror flickering within its eyes.
Once proud beyond measure, it now fully understood how fragile its existence truly was.
(Damn it… all my gold and treasures… taken by those cursed humans…)
Its lament ended abruptly as pink mist once more filled the containment cell.
Despite mental exhaustion, its body responded against its will—forced back into another grotesque cycle of breeding.
Soren severed the perception instantly.
Turning his attention elsewhere, he observed another chamber—where a shinobi of the Yuki Clan stood amid frost-laden mist.
Scales had formed along the body.
Cold radiated outward.
Ice Release chakra surged.
Once a mere chūnin, the shinobi had leapt directly into jōnin-level strength, having fully grasped Ice Release nature transformation.
Given time, elite jōnin status was inevitable.
The transformation rivaled the awakening of a three-tomoe Sharingan.
Even more striking—longevity.
Root's calculations showed life expectancy had doubled at minimum.
Immortality remained unattainable, but extended life was now proven reality.
The flaw remained obvious.
Only the Yuki Clan could tolerate the Frost Dragon bloodline.
For others, the cost in lives far outweighed the benefits.
All successful subjects had since joined Konoha, forming a new elite unit.
In Soren's plan, they would become Frost Dragon Riders, claiming dominance over the skies and founding a new clan.
The clan name was already chosen.
Yuki… no.
Mizukage's legacy deserved revival.
They would be known as the Yuki Clan—Waterless Moon (Mizunashi no Tsuki).
The remaining issue lay in the bloodline itself.
The Frost Dragon's bestial instincts continuously eroded human rationality—manifesting as aggression and heightened lust.
Without achieving equilibrium between beast and human will, true Dragon Knights could not yet be realized.
Research continued—through pharmaceuticals, sealing techniques, and specialized equipment.
The promise of longevity had driven the entire underground facility into a frenzy.
All information was sealed.
Only Konoha's highest leadership was aware.
Without Soren's explicit command, nothing would leak.
"As long as success exists, the rest is trivial," Soren said calmly.
"I'll handle the rest."
Root bowed.
"Understood."
With all preparations complete, Root personally verified the instruments.
Researchers—bound by Root Tongue Seals and Eternal Mangekyō hypnosis—initiated the bloodline transplantation procedure on the clone.
Purified Frost Dragon blood, shimmering with magical particles, flowed into the clone's body.
Pain erupted instantly within Soren's own consciousness.
He severed the sensation.
On the display screen, the fusion curve plummeted.
"Supreme Leader," Root warned, "we've reached the critical threshold. Shall we abort the fusion?"
"Continue."
Soren's gaze sharpened.
The curve had slowed.
A microscopic portion of Frost Dragon blood had fused.
Cells were devouring each other—dragon and human alike.
A faint equilibrium emerged.
Good.
Orders were absolute.
The infusion continued.
Frost rapidly coated the clone's skin.
Veins bulged blue beneath ice-rimmed flesh.
Vital signs collapsed.
Three seconds.
Two—
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