Hey guys, here is the new chapter hope you will liked and read thru everything.
If we hit 300PW I post a extra chapter
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Enjoy the chapter!
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The sun over Sunagakure had already reached its highest point, bathing the imposing stone and metal structures of the utopia in a blinding light that made the giant glass dome shimmer. While the sand in Daigo's private training area still vibrled with the energy of the children's physical exertion, discipline and the passing of knowledge continued without rest in other corners of the great, protected village.
For Daigo's family and their closest friends, peace was not a synonym for lethargy or absolute rest; it was the perfect space to polish the skills of tomorrow and ensure that every young ninja found the exact path to unleash their true hidden potential.
On one of the stone platforms jutting out from the eastern cliffs, the wind blew constantly, whistling loudly through the rock crevices and kicking up fine threads of golden dust. On this desolate, elevated ground, where the free gusts of the desert collided directly with the village's structure, two figures stood out against the deep blue sky: Rasa, the leader of the Anbu, and his eldest daughter, Temari.
The girl observed the massive iron fan resting beside her on the hot stone with a mix of physical exhaustion and stubbornness. Her small figure seemed almost tiny compared to her father's imposing presence, but her dark eyes shone with the same pride and determination that characterized her lineage.
"The wind element, Temari, is not simply about blowing hard or pushing things from one place to another," Rasa began in his usual deep, measured, and calm voice as he observed the updraft rising from the deep canyon. "Many ninja from other villages make the grave mistake of believing that Wind Style is just a brute force that destroys through impact. But Suna's true wind is cutting—an invisible blade that slips through the enemy's defenses before they can even perceive the danger in the air. Your fan is not a simple shield to violently push air; it is a high-precision conductor that must amplify and refine the frequency of your own chakra."
Rasa took a step forward, extending his right hand toward the empty space of the canyon with absolute tranquility. Without performing a single hand sign and maintaining his relaxed posture, the air around his hand began to distort almost imperceptibly. With a subtle flick of his fingers, an extremely thin, visible stream of wind—as sharp as a surgical scalpel—sliced through the air at an astonishing speed. An instant later, the tip of a stone needle located more than fifty meters away was cleanly severed. The piece of rock fell into the void of the canyon, producing a dull echo as it hit the bottom.
Temari swallowed hard, deeply impressed by her father's precision and surgical control over the wind element.
"Now it's your turn," Rasa ordered calmly, pointing to a series of thick, reinforced wooden posts that had been buried deep into the stone of the training platform. "I want you to channel your wind chakra through the first moon of your fan. Do not try to knock the post down with a massive, noisy gust that disperses all your energy. Concentrate entirely on creating a single strand of cutting air that leaves a deep mark in the center of the wood. Control the dispersion of the wind; do not let it escape from the sides."
Temari nodded firmly, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Gripping the heavy iron handle of the fan with both hands, she bent her legs to stabilize her center of gravity on the rough stone. She gathered her chakra in her hands and opened the first section of the weapon, revealing the first moon drawn on the fan's taut fabric. With a shout of effort that showed all her determination, she swung the fan in a downward arc toward the first post.
Fuuuush!
A messy, noisy, and extremely wide gust of air shot out from her weapon, striking the wooden post with force and kicking up a small cloud of dust and sand around it. However, as the dust cleared, the hardwood showed only a slight superficial scratch on its bark. The impact of the poorly channeled wind generated a recoil that nearly threw the girl off balance, forcing her to take a step back to avoid falling.
Rasa sighed softly, but his eyes reflected no disappointment, only the patience of a teacher and a father who perfectly understands the difficulty of the initial process. He walked slowly toward his daughter, standing behind her, and gently adjusted the position of her hands on the iron handle of the fan, correcting the angle of her wrists.
"You are losing too much energy from the sides, Temari. Do not extend your arms too quickly at the end of the movement; keep your center of gravity low and allow the chakra to flow directly from your stomach to your wrists before releasing the physical strike.
The fan is just an extension of your own arms, not an external tool that you must push in desperation. Try it again, but this time, visualize the wind not as a storm, but as a fine and perfect blade of glass cutting the air in two."
Temari grit her teeth, readjusting her physical stance and closing her eyes for a brief moment to feel the flow of her own internal energy. Concentrating entirely on her father's wise words, she swung the weapon again with a much shorter, precise, sharp, and controlled movement. This time, a high-pitched, clean whistle cut through the canyon's wind.
A thin but visibly deep line appeared directly in the center of the wooden post, slicing the hard bark as if it were paper. The girl smiled with immense pride at the result of her effort, finding in Rasa's subtle, approving, and calm gaze the motivation needed to continue practicing the complex exercise for the next few hours under the burning desert sun.
Meanwhile, in the dim light of one of Suna's underground workshops, surrounded by wooden shelves packed with spare parts, bronze gears, design scrolls, and vials of neutralized poisons, a training of a completely different nature was unfolding. The air here was cool and smelled of freshly cut wood, linseed oil, and polished metal.
Kankuro, Rasa's second son, sat cross-legged on the stone floor. Floating unstably and shaking before him was a basic wooden training puppet, its joints moving with obvious stiffness. Kankuro's fingers trembled due to the immense mental and physical strain required to keep the bright blue chakra threads active, which connected his ten fingertips to the limbs of the wooden doll.
A few meters away, sitting quietly in a wooden chair and observing with scientific attention, was Sasori.
"Your chakra threads are still too thick and messy, Kankuro," Sasori commented in a quiet, soft, and extremely calm voice, devoid of any scolding tone. "A true puppet master of our village does not drag their creation across the floor as if it were a noisy toy that needs to be pushed. The chakra threads must be so thin, pure, and invisible that the enemy on the battlefield cannot decipher where the movement commands are coming from, nor what the next attack will be. If your opponent can easily see your threads in combat, they will have control of the situation and you will be practically lost."
"It's... it's very difficult to maintain constant tension in my fingers, Sasori-sensei," Kankuro admitted, sweat pouring down his forehead as he desperately tried to make the training puppet execute a basic strike with its wooden right arm. "If I try to reduce the thickness of the threads, I feel like I lose the physical connection with the puppet completely and it falls to the ground."
"That is because you are making the mistake of trying to force the puppet's movement using the brute strength of your chakra, instead of understanding the physics and gravity of its internal joints," Sasori explained patiently.
The red-haired man rose from his chair with calm, slow movements, approaching the boy. He extended his own hands, showing his long, agile fingers. With an extremely elegant flick of his wrists, ten chakra threads of a blue so pure, faint, and thin that they looked like invisible silk threads under the lamp light, connected directly to the joints of Kankuro's puppet.
Instantly, the stiff wooden doll seemed to leap to life with astonishing lightness. It moved with a fluidity, grace, and speed that defied the workshop's gravity, executing a complex choreography of dodges, jumps, and thrusts in the air that did not produce the slightest sound on the stone. Kankuro watched the demonstration with wide eyes, marveled by the artistry his teacher displayed so naturally.
"The secret lies in the fine-tuning of your own body," Sasori continued in a measured tone, withdrawing his threads as gently as he had connected them, allowing the puppet to rest softly on the floor without sustaining any damage.
"Do not send chakra continuously and chaotically to every part of the puppet. Send small, precise, and coordinated pulses of energy only to the specific joints that need to move in each fraction of a second. The rest of the time, keep the threads taut but in a dormant state to conserve your own physical and mental energy reserves. Fūinjutsu and puppetry share the same need for precision. Try it again, Kankuro. Take your time to breathe, calm your pulse, and feel the wood through the tips of your fingers. There is no rush to reach perfection."
Kankuro nodded immediately, feeling inspired by Sasori's patience and calm support. He raised his hands again, concentrating to the utmost to calm his heartbeat and refine the thinness of his chakra, seeking to emulate the unmatched fluidity of the legendary puppet master before heading to his next lesson of the day.
In another section of the village, a few hours later, within a spacious, cool, and peaceful study room lit by the soft glow of several oil lamps and surrounded by wooden shelves laden with ancient scrolls on sealing theory, a much more mental and mystical training session was taking place.
Karinna, the experienced matriarch of sealing knowledge and respected refugee of the Uzumaki clan whom Daigo had successfully integrated into Suna's educational and defensive structure, stood in front of a large, smooth stone blackboard.
Sitting before her at a long sandalwood table were three young apprentices: her daughter Karin, Kankuro (who cleverly divided his training time between puppet practice and sealing theory), and little Sunae.
"Fūinjutsu, children, is not simply drawing strange or striking symbols on a piece of paper to store common objects," Karinna explained in an extremely soft, melodious voice, yet one loaded with great wisdom and instructional firmness.
"It is the art of writing the language of chakra laws directly onto the canvas of physical reality. Every line you draw with your brush, every curve of the geometric design, and every anchor point of the special ink must contain a perfectly balanced portion of your own vital and spiritual energy. A single crooked stroke, a line too thin, or an excess of chakra in the core of the seal, and the entire mathematical structure of the fūinjutsu will fail immediately."
Karinna took a fine brush, gently dipping it in a special ink that had been infused with her chakra, and proceeded to draw a basic three-ring storage seal on a piece of white parchment paper with astonishing speed and precision. The intricate design seemed to come alive for an instant, glowing with a subtle, warm golden color before settling inertly but perfectly stable on the paper.
"Karin, I want you to show me your progress with the basic Chakra Flow Suppression Seal we practiced yesterday. Kankuro, draw the basic structure of the puppet storage seal I assigned you for homework to connect with your physical training. And Sunae, you will work on the geometric alignment of the outer anchor rings," Karinna instructed in a highly maternal manner, handing out the brushes and inkwells to each of the three students.
The three children immediately set to work, immersing themselves in an almost absolute silence broken only by the faint scraping of the brush hairs against the rough parchment paper.
Karin, showing the pure heritage of Uzumaki blood, began to trace the complex runic lines with astonishing fluidity and confidence. At first, her face showed a grimace of concentration as she felt her massive and dense natural chakra threatening to overflow from the tip of the brush.
However, remembering her mother's daily advice, Karin closed her eyes for a brief second, took a deep breath, and relaxed the tension accumulated in her shoulders. With impressive mental control, she filtered her vital energy, reducing it to a subtle, constant, and perfect thread that flowed evenly through the black ink.
Karin's stroke was clean and without a single geometric imperfection. When she finished drawing the intricate central kanji and placed a small gem on the parchment, she applied a slight pulse of her chakra. The seal instantly glowed with an intense, dazzling crimson light, perfectly stable, which absorbed the gem without the slightest effort or uncontrolled vibration. The paper remained immaculate, with no trace of burns.
"Incredible, Karin-chan!" Karinna exclaimed, her eyes shining with immense maternal joy and pride as she examined her daughter's work.
"You have mastered the suppression and filtering of your chakra perfectly. This is an intermediate-level fūinjutsu executed with the mastery of an experienced ninja. Your control over our Uzumaki heritage is exceptional."
Karin smiled shyly, but with immense pride reflected on her face, feeling that all the effort and hours of study were finally bearing fruit.
Beside her, Kankuro worked with a seriousness he did not often show. His brow was furrowed and he held the brush firmly, drawing the storage seal Sasori had suggested for his puppets. In his first attempts the previous day, the ink always ended up smudging due to his impatience to finish quickly. However, Sasori's recent words about "fine-tuning" and the need to send small, precise pulses resonated strongly in his mind.
Kankuro applied that same philosophy to the brush. Instead of dragging the ink with brute force, he slid the tool gently, taking small breathing pauses between each stroke to release only the exact amount of chakra required by the formula.
To his own surprise, the geometric design began to take a clean, orderly shape on the paper. When he finished the stroke and applied the activation pulse, the puppet storage seal glowed with a faint but highly stable blue light, successfully sealing a small piece of wood that was on the table.
"Very well done, Kankuro," Karinna praised, nodding in approval after reviewing his parchment. "You have understood that patience is the key to fūinjutsu. Your stroke is firm and the channeling is stable enough to hold a small puppet. You have made huge progress compared to last week."
Kankuro let out a sigh of relief, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and smiling with self-satisfaction, happy to see that he finally understood the connection between sealing theory and his beloved art of puppetry.
Finally, at the end of the table, Sunae found herself in a very different situation. Despite possessing amazing intelligence and an unwavering determination inherited from her father and mother, her physical development and chakra control were still in an extremely early, developmental stage—especially due to the Seven-Tails.
Sunae tried to trace the outer concentric ring with a concentration that made her tongue stick out from the corner of her lips. However, her hand trembled slightly due to the accumulated fatigue from the brutal physical training she had performed that very morning in the desert with her grandfather Haru and her siblings.
As she tried to close the circle, the brush slipped a few millimeters, leaving a smudge of black ink on the sandalwood wood. Furthermore, as she tried to channel her chakra to test the stroke, the energy was released in a rough, uncontrolled manner, causing the parchment paper to emit a small spark and scorch in one of the corners before dissipating inertly.
Sunae abruptly lowered the brush, staring at the burned paper with a mix of frustration, sadness, and disappointment in her large eyes. Her shoulders slumped and she lowered her head, feeling bad for not obtaining the same successful result as Karin and Kankuro.
Karinna, noticing the sadness on the little girl's face, immediately knelt beside her with immense tenderness in her gaze. Gently, she took Sunae's small hands in her own, transmitting a warm, comforting chakra that immediately eased the girl's tension.
"Don't be sad, Sunae," Karinna told her in an extremely soft voice, affectionately stroking her cheek.
"Look at me. You are barely five years old, and your body is still adapting to channeling energy consciously. Fūinjutsu requires years of physical and mental maturity. What you tried to do today is something many twelve-year-old ninja academy students don't even dare to attempt. The simple fact that you managed to trace most of the ring's geometry with your hands so tired from your grandfather's training is an amazing achievement."
At that moment, the door to the room opened silently and Pakura entered, having heard Karinna's last words. Pakura approached with quiet steps and knelt beside her young daughter, placing an affectionate hand on her head with a smile full of maternal love.
"Your aunt Karinna is absolutely right, Sunae," Pakura intervened in a warm voice that immediately dispelled the frustration in the little girl's heart. "Our family's strength does not lie in doing everything perfectly on the first try, but in the unwavering will to stand up, learn from the mistake, and keep practicing with pride."
Sunae looked at her mother, then at Karinna, and finally at her burned parchment. The warmth and unconditional support of her family ignited a new, bright spark of determination in her eyes. She wiped away a small, rebellious tear with her sleeve, took the brush once more with her tiny hands, and looked at Karinna with a wide smile of resolve.
"I want to try again, Aunt Karinna! This time I'll control the stroke better!" Sunae exclaimed enthusiastically, determined not to give up.
Karinna and Pakura shared a look full of happiness and pride at seeing the girl's indomable spirit.
With the afternoon sun beginning to slowly descend behind the colossal walls of Sunagakure's dome, the various training sessions of Suna's new generation continued their course in total harmony, patience, and family love.
Each youngster, from those polishing their element on the cliffs to those learning the art of puppetry and the mysteries of sealing, advanced at their own pace, preparing to become the unwavering pillars that would support the brilliant future of Suna.
End of Chapter