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I'm improving the writing and editing starting from Chapter 45!
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As it spoke, the three-legged crow thrust both the Sword of Totsuka and the Yata Mirror forward with its talons—offering them up like sacred tributes.
"Oh?"
Manji's eyebrow arched. The corner of his mouth curved upward.
"Good! Good!!"
"This Sage is most pleased—most pleased indeed!"
Manji accepted the Sword of Totsuka and turned it over in his hands, studying every detail.
The realization struck him instantly. So THIS is where Itachi Uchiha got the Totsuka Blade in the future.
Itachi's summoning contract with crows. The crows' significance in Japanese mythology. Everything clicked together like the final piece of a puzzle.
"Hehe, as long as the Sage is happy."
The three-legged crow's smile was strained to its breaking point.
"Magnificent… truly magnificent… what a fine blade…"
But then—Manji's eyes went cold.
WHOOSH————!!!
In a movement faster than thought—Manji drove the Sword of Totsuka straight through the three-legged crow.
"GAHK—!"
"SAGE!!!"
The crow never saw it coming. It stared down at the blade piercing its body, then back up at Manji, crimson eyes bulging with disbelief.
Manji's gaze was frost incarnate.
'Did this bird seriously think I didn't notice?'
His killing intent perception had been screaming—and this feathered fool thought it could play him for an idiot?
Attempting to assassinate him? That was a one-way ticket to oblivion.
You sealed your own fate.
Manji had originally planned to learn the Sage Art and leave—no interference, no conflict. But the crow had tried to kill him.
So, no mercy. Better you than me.
Manji might seem easygoing on the surface, but when it came time to take a life? There was zero hesitation.
He'd survived this long for two reasons: knowing when to let things go—and knowing when to eliminate a threat before it could grow.
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"
The crow let out one final, anguished shriek—
And its body was sucked into the Sword of Totsuka. Permanently sealed.
"So it's the real deal…"
Manji examined the sword with a satisfied nod.
.....
Manji emerged from the Land of the Yatagarasu at a leisurely pace.
"Manji, how'd it go in there?"
The White Monkey King hurried over, concern etched across his features.
Manji's expression was measured, a hint of gravity lingering between his brows.
"The place was deeply corrupted. The threat has been eliminated."
"To prevent anyone from stumbling in and losing their life, I intend to raze it to the ground. Any objections?"
"None! I was thinking the same thing!"
The White Monkey King agreed without a second's hesitation. If ordinary humans wandered into a place like that, they'd be dead before they knew what hit them. Total destruction was the safest course.
"Good."
As the word left his lips, violent lightning was already churning in Manji's palm—purple electricity writhing like serpents, tearing the air apart around his hand.
"Sage Art—Lightning Release—Kirin!"
A single, thunderous command shook the heavens—and a colossal beast of pure, blinding lightning plummeted from the sky.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!
In one cataclysmic flash, the Land of the Yatagarasu was wiped from existence. Not a single stone remained—only scorched, blackened earth and the lingering tang of ozone.
"White Monkey King—this is where I take my leave."
Manji withdrew his Sage energy and offered the old ape a respectful bow.
"Wait—Manji…"
"When we meet again… how long will it be?"
The White Monkey King stepped forward, something complicated and reluctant flickering behind his eyes.
Manji paused, considering. "Perhaps… not for another century. I'll be staying on Mount Myōboku from here on—training in seclusion. The human world's affairs are no longer my concern."
Hagoromo was out there keeping things in order. There was no need for Manji to meddle.
His next appearance would likely coincide with the birth of Indra or Asura—the two figures whose rivalry formed the hidden throughline of the entire Naruto saga.
Manji already had a plan.
He would dedicate the coming centuries to Mount Myōboku, pursuing the ultimate goal: fusing all five Sage Art traditions—Mount Myōboku, the Ryūchi Cave, the Shikkotsu Forest, the Monkey King Clan, and the Yatagarasu—into a single, unified system.
If he could achieve that synthesis, perhaps he could finally breach the Six Paths threshold and shatter the System's shackles once and for all.
Being permanently capped at Beyond-Kage was manageable against most opponents. But if an Ōtsutsuki ever appeared… things would get ugly fast.
Being stuck at Beyond-Kage forever felt like being held right at the edge—eternally on the verge.
"Well… I suppose that's how it goes."
The White Monkey King sighed, watching Manji's figure with wistful eyes. Time moved so fast. One goodbye, and the next meeting was an eternity away.
"Farewell!"
"Sage Art—Mist Body Flicker."
A veil of pale fog—and Manji was gone.
.....
Back on Mount Myōboku.
Manji materialized directly inside the Grand Sage Hall.
The moment he arrived—something felt off. A subtle wrongness in the air. He turned and headed for the side chamber.
The Sage Art Archive—the hall where he stored every technique he'd ever created or recorded. Mount Myōboku arts, Shikkotsu Forest techniques, Ryūchi Cave methods, and a collection of seal-free ninjutsu he'd developed himself.
His Sage chakra immediately detected faint life signatures emanating from within—accompanied by hushed whispers that grew clearer with every step. Young toad voices, laced with nervous excitement and the thrill of getting away with something.
"Are you sure this is okay? If the Grand Sage—no, if the Founding Patriarch catches us, we're absolutely done…"
A timid male toad voice, trembling with anxiety.
"Relax! We're just looking. Sneaking a peek at one or two basic Sage Art scrolls—that's all. The Founding Patriarch has always been lenient. Worst case, he makes us copy the Mount Myōboku Code of Conduct a few times. He's not going to throw the book at us!"
A bolder female toad voice, reassuring yet carrying its own undercurrent of guilt.
Manji pushed the door open without a sound. The scene inside unfolded before him.
Towering scroll shelves stacked to the ceiling—row upon row of meticulously organized techniques.
And there—tucked into the bottom corner of the lowest shelf—two palm-sized baby toads were huddled together, their little heads bent over an unfurled Sage Art scroll, stubby front legs tracing the patterns on the parchment with absolute, oblivious concentration.
"And what exactly are you two looking for?"
Manji's calm voice echoed gently through the cavernous hall.
Both toads went rigid—as if hit by a paralysis jutsu—then slowly, agonizingly slowly, turned their heads.
Their perfectly round toad eyes were as wide as dinner plates, faces frozen in pure terror.
"AH—?? The Founding Patriarch!"
"G-Grand Sage, sir—we're sorry! We're SO sorry!"
They practically launched themselves away from the scroll, crashing to their knees on the stone floor, tiny heads pressed as low as physically possible, too terrified to breathe.
"Sneaking into the archive to read forbidden scrolls. I see."
Manji glanced at the unrolled parchment, and the situation was immediately clear.
Two young toads had infiltrated the Sage Art Archive and attempted to teach themselves advanced techniques without authorization.
"Founding Patriarch—we were wrong! Please forgive us!"
Both toads pleaded in trembling unison, voices cracking with barely suppressed sobs.
Manji wasn't angry.
Young toads craving Sage knowledge was the most natural thing in the world. Sneaking into the archive was a violation, sure—but hardly a capital offense.
They'd called it right, actually. He was lenient.
A few hundred repetitions of the Mount Myōboku Code of Conduct would suffice.
"What are your names?"
"I—I'm Fukasaku."
The male toad stammered out his name.
"I'm Shima."
The female toad followed immediately, her voice barely above a whisper.
Manji's eyebrow rose—a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his features.
Fukasaku and Shima... The future Two Great Sage Toads of Mount Myōboku. And here they were—still tiny, sneaking around the archives like mischievous children.
Considering the timeline, their birth at this point made perfect sense.
Manji's gaze dropped back to the scroll they'd been studying. The cover read: "Sage Art—Goemon."
"You two have been staring at this for a while. Learned anything?"
The question was casual, almost offhand.
Fukasaku and Shima exchanged a helpless glance—each finding only blank confusion in the other's eyes.
Both shook their heads in unison. "Founding Patriarch—we studied it for ages, but the patterns are completely incomprehensible. We can't make any sense of the chakra circulation, let alone actually perform it."
Manji suppressed a smile. Of course they couldn't.
If they could learn it just from reading, they'd be prodigies of the highest order.
At this point in history, the hand-sign system hadn't been invented yet. All Sage Arts and ninjutsu were performed through raw chakra manipulation and mental focus. With their current level of understanding, a technique as complex as Sage Art Goemon was completely beyond their reach.
Hand signs would change everything.
"You haven't learned hand signs yet—naturally you can't activate something this advanced."
Manji explained simply.
"Hand signs?"
Fukasaku looked up, face scrunched in total bewilderment.
"Founding Patriarch—what are hand signs?"
Shima blinked beside him, equally lost. The term was clearly foreign to both of them.
Manji didn't elaborate. He simply waved his hand.
"That's a lesson for another day."
"For now—go find Gamamaru. Collect two copies of the Mount Myōboku Code of Conduct. Each of you will write it out three hundred times. Until you're finished, neither of you sets foot in this archive."
His tone was mild but final.
The moment they heard their punishment was only copying—not scrubbing the entire mountain or being sentenced to hard labor—both toads practically melted with relief.
"Thank you for your mercy, Founding Patriarch!"
They bowed with impeccable form, then turned and bounced out of the archive as fast as their little legs could carry them.
.....
Manji stood alone in the vast, scroll-lined hall.
"Hand signs…"
His fingertip traced his chin as he sank into deep thought.
Indra hadn't been born yet—which meant the hand-sign system he would eventually create didn't exist.
So why not beat him to it?
Creating hand signs wasn't particularly difficult for someone of Manji's caliber.
And once the system was implemented on Mount Myōboku, the toads would be able to master Sage Arts and ninjutsu far more efficiently—propelling the mountain's collective strength to even greater heights, cementing its position at the forefront of the shinobi world.
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