Chapter 63 — If You're Bad, Train More
Konoha Training Ground Three.
The sun hung high above the treetops.
"Clang!"
The crisp ring of metal striking metal echoed repeatedly across the field.
Yami's ninja blade darted forward at an almost unnatural angle, slipping past defense in a way that defied expectation.
The tip stopped precisely at Nawaki's throat.
A bead of cold sweat slid down Nawaki's temple.
He hadn't even seen how the strike broke through his guard.
"…I lost again."
He lowered his kunai with visible frustration.
"Big bro Yami, your progress these past six months has been insane."
Yami smoothly withdrew the blade and returned it to its sheath in one fluid motion.
Over these six months, under Orochimaru's near-harsh instruction, the abilities he had once obtained through the system had finally gained solid foundations.
The formula inscriptions for Flying Thunder God had already become instinctual—
though the neural strain caused by continuous rapid teleportation still required refinement.
As for the Eight Gates—
The first four gates had become as natural to him as breathing.
Aside from stamina consumption, they were practically free of side effects.
Even the chakra shape transformation that he had once relied on the system to implant had now been fully integrated into his own understanding.
Originally, he had intended to casually inspire Jiraiya toward developing the Rasengan and reap the benefits later.
Now?
He was not far from completing the technique on his own.
"It's not that I've progressed quickly," Yami said calmly.
"It's that your combat thinking is still stuck at the surface."
Yami casually tossed a kunai toward Nawaki.
"Every move you make broadcasts your intent. In real combat, that's a fatal flaw."
Nawaki caught the kunai and fell into thought.
"Simply put," Yami added mercilessly, "if you're bad, train more."
Nawaki choked on his reply.
Over the past six months, he had watched Yami's growth with his own eyes. What was more terrifying was that this transformation didn't seem anywhere near its limit.
---
From the shadows at the edge of the training ground, Orochimaru observed silently.
A hint of satisfaction flickered in his serpentine pupils.
Teaching a genius, he had to admit, was a deeply pleasurable experience.
Yami's rate of growth had surpassed even his expectations. The intricate tactical awareness and unique understanding of chakra were not things someone his age should possess.
"Orochimaru-sensei."
Yami had already sensed the gaze.
Orochimaru stepped out from the shadows, eyes resting briefly on him.
"The medical ninjutsu scrolls. Have you finished them?"
"I completed my notes last night."
Yami produced a scroll from his robes.
"I have some thoughts regarding chakra-stimulated cellular regeneration."
For the next half hour, the training ground echoed only with Yami's calm explanations and Orochimaru's occasional probing questions.
When Yami mentioned concepts such as "excessive chakra saturation" and "spontaneous immune response to foreign cell intrusion," a sharp gleam flashed through Orochimaru's eyes.
"Interesting theories."
His tongue flicked lightly across his lips.
"Starting tomorrow, I'll provide you with some data. You may attempt an analysis."
Watching Orochimaru's departing figure, Yami smiled inwardly.
For six months, he had carefully dangled fragments of knowledge from his previous life as bait—revealing enough to demonstrate value, never enough to expose his foundation.
He had been waiting for this olive branch.
---
Half a month later, at dusk.
Yami had just finished another sparring session with Nawaki.
"I'm done, I'm done!"
Nawaki collapsed onto the ground, gasping.
"Big bro Yami, your Adamantine Sealing Chains are getting ridiculous! Those angles are way too dirty!"
Yami retracted the faint golden chains surrounding him and shook his head.
"Still far from enough. Against a true powerhouse, this level of concealment wouldn't suffice."
At that moment, soft footsteps approached from the edge of the field.
"Nawaki, you may leave."
Orochimaru's hoarse voice cut through the air.
Nawaki quickly gathered his gear and departed, leaving only master and disciple behind.
"Is there an experiment—"
"An external mission."
Orochimaru tossed over a scroll.
"Target: Hell Valley, Land of Hot Water. Confirm the current status of the Chinoike Clan and retrieve bloodline samples."
Yami unrolled the scroll.
His gaze lingered on three words—
Blood Dragon Eye (Ketsuryūgan).
The Chinoike Clan, famed for the dōjutsu known as the Blood Dragon Eye. A bloodline once capable of rivaling the Uchiha.
Absurdly enough, such a powerful clan had been exiled wholesale after offending the Daimyō of the Land of Lightning. Now they were imprisoned within Hell Valley—under Uchiha supervision.
"Hell Valley's environment is unique," Yami said evenly, lifting his gaze.
"And it's overseen by the Uchiha."
"Which is precisely why you are going."
Orochimaru's smile carried layers of meaning.
"Uchiha Yashiro is currently on rotation there. If necessary, you may seek his assistance."
Yami immediately understood.
This mission was both a research directive—and a test.
A test of his ties with the Uchiha.
Perhaps the Third Hokage and Danzō both wanted to see how far he could go.
It wasn't sabotage.
It was evaluation.
"Time limit?"
"No limit."
Orochimaru turned, dissolving into shadow.
"But remember—living specimens are far more valuable than corpses."
Yami closed the scroll, a faint anticipation flickering in his eyes.
After more than half a year of training, it was time to stretch his limbs.
---
He headed toward the Ninja Academy.
With no fixed return date for this mission, certain arrangements needed to be made.
The sunset bathed the academy grounds in gold. The dismissal bell rang.
Standing beneath a tree, Yami watched students stream out.
Soon, he spotted familiar golden hair—and beside it, vibrant red.
"Minato. Kushina."
Minato turned, surprise lighting his face.
"Yami-nii? What brings you here?"
"I'll be leaving on a mission. Looks like I'll miss your graduation ceremony."
Minato smiled gently.
"Missions come first."
Yami beckoned them aside to a quieter spot.
From his robes, he retrieved a specially crafted kunai—and a scroll still faintly smelling of fresh ink.
"This is for you. No need to rush practicing it. Take your time to understand it."
He pressed the scroll into Minato's hands.
"I'm not worried about you. You're not the impatient type."
"A special graduation gift," Yami added with a knowing smile.
"Between you and me."
Minato accepted it solemnly, unaware of the scroll's true weight.
"I understand."
Turning to Kushina, Yami's tone softened.
"Your constitution is unique. Don't force yourself down ordinary paths. Explore your own potential. Spend time with your clansmen when you can—it will only benefit you."
"I'll make up your graduation gift when I return."
---
By the time he left the academy, night had fallen.
Yami glanced back at the brightly lit classrooms, lips curving faintly.
The Flying Thunder God had been returned to its rightful future master.
With it, Minato's growth would accelerate.
As for Kushina's Uzumaki vitality—
Yami already had plans.
A small regret lingered.
Tsunade was away on a mission. He hadn't been able to see her before leaving.
"Next time we meet… I hope you've both grown stronger."
With that, Yami turned and disappeared into the night, heading toward the village gates.
The mission to Hell Valley—
Might prove far more interesting than he imagined.