'The essence of Steel Release is still a type of chakra. Besides simply covering the surface of the body like armor, can its fundamental form be changed?' Kiyohara asked the Iwa Spirit within the mental space.
He wanted to know if his predecessor had pushed the boundaries of the Kekkei Genkai. Could he, for example, force steel spikes to violently protrude from his knuckles? Could he form aerodynamic steel cones away from his body to fire as projectiles?
"Of course," the Iwa Spirit spoke with a proud expression on his tanned face. "I developed a highly effective method to infuse the hardening properties of Steel Release directly into my external weapons."
The Spirit began to dictate the mechanics.
In ninjutsu theory, the act of attaching elemental chakra to a physical weapon is called Chakra Flow. There is Fire Release Flow to ignite blades, Lightning Release Flow to increase high-frequency cutting power, and Wind Release Flow to extend a blade's invisible reach.
His bloodline was the same. He could apply Steel Release Flow to harden certain substances to a terrifying degree. For example, by picking up an ordinary leaf and channeling his chakra through it, he could temporarily increase its density until it was sharp and rigid enough to be used as a lethal throwing knife.
'Is that so...' Kiyohara was slightly disappointed.
Once the Steel chakra was separated from the user's biological cells and attached to an external object, the hardening effect was drastically reduced. The resulting density of the infused weapon was actually lower than true, forged steel.
'If the Iwa Spirit and the Rogue Spirit knew each other, they would definitely get along,' Kiyohara thought dryly. The ultimate combat realm the Rogue Spirit had pursued his entire life was the ability to use literally anything as a lethal weapon, where even a simple wooden branch picked up off the dirt could be used to slaughter an enemy.
"But you probably can't execute the Flow technique yet," the Iwa Spirit noted. "The bloodline inheritance isn't fully integrated into your cells yet."
"I know," Kiyohara nodded.
Regardless of their flaws, every future version of himself he inherited had their own unique specialties and tactical philosophies. To borrow a common saying: There are no useless Kekkei Genkai, only useless ninja.
Over the next few days, Kiyohara consolidated his muscle memory for the Angry Thunder Arrow.
As for his training in Steel Release, Kiyohara conducted it with extreme paranoia. He only practiced in absolute secrecy, always having the Iwa Spirit float outside his body to act as an invisible, 360-degree early warning radar.
Meanwhile, on the coastline, the vanguard probes from Kirigakure ANBU were becoming increasingly frequent.
The invisible, suffocating pressure in the base skyrocketed. Reports of Konoha supply lines being harassed and coastal patrols being slaughtered by Mist hit squads came in almost hourly.
On this day, Kiyohara watched from the barracks as Tsunade, Shizune, and a large contingent of high-value Medical Corps personnel were hurriedly evacuated toward the interior, heavily guarded by ANBU.
Clearly, the Konoha High Command had calculated that the risk of the coastline falling was imminent. Moving their irreplaceable medical assets to the rear was the only logical choice.
Inside the Commander's Tent.
Orochimaru sat at his desk, his pale, snake-like face impassive. Standing opposite him was a shinobi wearing a blank porcelain mask, carrying classified orders directly from Danzo Shimura.
"Lord Danzo instructs you to find a viable method to recruit the boy named Kiyohara into Root," the masked shinobi said mechanically.
"Danzo..." Orochimaru's golden, slitted pupils narrowed as he stared at the Root operative.
'So that old hawk finally noticed the boy's potential.'
However, Orochimaru had his own ambitions. He needed to cultivate his own loyal inner circle; he couldn't constantly rely on Danzo's brainwashed drones. Furthermore, Kiyohara was fundamentally different from the vast majority of shinobi Orochimaru had observed.
'The boy... is not a monkey,' Orochimaru mused.
"I understand," Orochimaru hissed smoothly. "Tell Danzo not to bother me with administrative trivialities for a while. I will deliver the human experimentation data he requested."
Orochimaru licked the corner of his mouth, dismissing the Root operative with a wave of his hand.
Over the past few days, Orochimaru had assigned his personal subordinates to monitor Kiyohara's routine. The reports were incredibly consistent: the boy did nothing but train. He trained with a brutal, relentless obsession that bordered on madness.
This made Orochimaru appreciate him deeply. In this world, only those who can endure the agonizing boredom of endless repetition can ever hope to grasp true power.
However, Orochimaru still wanted to verify one specific theory.
In the ninja world, geniuses are usually divided into two categories. One is a genius born of an inherited, mutated bloodline. The other relies purely on their intellect and tactical analysis to survive.
Before Kiyohara awakened Magnet Release, Orochimaru considered him a highly intelligent human. Now that the boy possessed a powerful Kekkei Genkai, Orochimaru was intensely curious to see if his analytical mindset would degenerate into arrogant reliance on his bloodline.
As for Root... Orochimaru had absolutely zero intention of handing a fascinating specimen over to an old war hawk like Danzo. If Orochimaru wanted to become the Fourth Hokage, he needed his own loyal command structure.
"Kiyohara! Why have you been avoiding me these past few days?!"
Kurenai stood on the dirt path blocking Kiyohara's way back to the barracks, her hands planted firmly on her hips.
"How is your independent ninjutsu training going?" Kiyohara sidestepped the accusation.
"It's a success," Kurenai nodded proudly. Over the past few days, she had successfully mastered all the new high-level Genjutsu theoretical scrolls sent by her father. "So... when will you find time to accompany me in my training?"
"In a few days," Kiyohara replied smoothly.
A true, pragmatic shinobi must maintain his tactical priorities when faced with temptation.
Training with Kurenai was certainly pleasant, and exchanging Genjutsu knowledge had its merits. But its priority had been drastically lowered on Kiyohara's schedule. Training in Genjutsu right now wouldn't yield much immediate combat benefit. The absolute, critical priority was to max out his proficiency in Steel Release to ensure his physical survival.
The atmosphere at the coastal base was becoming increasingly apocalyptic; if someone told Kiyohara the Mist armada would bombard the beach tonight, he would believe them without hesitation.
Under these circumstances, he couldn't sleep at all. He needed absolute defense.
"Alright then," Kurenai sighed, accepting his excuse.
"Has Asuma bothered you lately?" Kiyohara asked casually.
"He tried. But it seems he won't be deployed near the eastern coastline anymore. His squad received orders to withdraw to the interior. He should be leaving the camp today or tomorrow," Kurenai shrugged indifferently.
"An order from the Hokage?"
"I heard it was pulled by the Medical Department."
"I see," Kiyohara nodded, fully understanding the nepotism at play.
It was the work of Asuma's mother, Biwako Sarutobi. Now that the entire command structure knew a catastrophic battle was imminent here and the odds of Konoha holding the line were abysmal, the political elites were quietly evacuating their assets to avoid casualties.
"You should pay more attention to your immediate surroundings lately," Kiyohara tossed a thick, unmarked scroll to Kurenai.
She caught it and unrolled it. It contained highly detailed, analytical notes Kiyohara had compiled on basic Genjutsu mechanics, offering incredibly novel and lethal perspectives on application.
Kurenai felt a sudden warmth in her chest. Even though Kiyohara had been avoiding her to train, he still took the time to write this for her.
"There are also some elemental release theories in there," Kiyohara added seriously. "It's always good for you to broaden your arsenal."
To be brutally honest, for a civilian ninja without a bloodline, choosing to specialize exclusively in Genjutsu has a catastrophically low return on investment. Most illusionists study for a lifetime, yet their absolute peak is still vastly inferior to the passive, baseline effects of a freshly awakened Sharingan.
Furthermore, standard Genjutsu can be easily dispelled by a target's teammate injecting chakra into them. This is a massive tactical flaw in large-scale, multi-person battles.
Kurenai was an old classmate whom he knew inside out. Kiyohara didn't want to see her name on a casualty report. The battlefield was shifting rapidly, and as his own combat power grew, the geopolitical butterfly effect he caused would only become more violent.
Across the camp.
"Kurenai went to see Kiyohara again," Asuma muttered, watching the exchange from afar.
'Damn it! Is being handsome and knowing a little Genjutsu really that great?!' Asuma fumed internally. He had started reading illusion theory scrolls too! Once he mastered a few tricks, he would secretly amaze everyone!
"Let's go, Asuma. The caravan is leaving," Asuma's teammate, Inuzuka Shi, spoke up. A small black hound was perched obediently on his head.
"I know. I'm just going to say goodbye to Kurenai before we evacuate," Asuma said stubbornly.
Shi followed Asuma's gaze and immediately understood the agonizing reality.
Kiyohara was exceptionally handsome and lethally competent. Kurenai was beautiful and highly skilled. To be brutally honest, Shi felt that those two looked like a match made in heaven.
"Asuma. Your path as a shinobi shouldn't end here," Shi patted his teammate on the shoulder sympathetically. "Simping... in the end, simps usually end up with absolutely nothing but a broken heart."
"?" Asuma gave his teammate a deeply puzzled, offended look.
After Kiyohara returned to his private tent, he began unbuckling his flak jacket to wash off the grime of his training.
Suddenly, he froze. A pale-skinned, incredibly dangerous presence was standing perfectly still in the dark corner of his tent, watching him.
The sheer killing intent made Kiyohara's scalp tingle.
Orochimaru.
Kiyohara slowly turned around, looking at the Sannin who had bypassed all his perimeter tripwires without making a sound.
"Lord Orochimaru," Kiyohara greeted calmly, though his muscles were coiled to activate Steel Release at a microsecond's notice.
"Heh heh... there's no need to be so nervous, Kiyohara-kun," Orochimaru smiled, his voice a smooth, venomous hiss. "I simply have a few academic questions I want to ask you."
Orochimaru always possessed infinite patience when dealing with true geniuses.
"Kiyohara-kun. According to my intelligence network, you are highly proficient in the nature transformations of Wind, Earth, and Lightning... whereas a standard Jonin is only required to master two."
Orochimaru's implication was clear: Kiyohara already possessed the raw tactical potential to apply for the elite Jonin qualification exams. The promotion was merely a matter of time.
Orochimaru took a few slow, deliberate steps forward. His golden, slitted gaze swept over Kiyohara's highly conditioned, scarred torso.
Kiyohara calmly pulled his undershirt back on. "What exactly does Lord Orochimaru wish to ask?"
"You have a surprisingly thorough, clinical understanding of chakra physics. And now, you possess the Magnet Release mutation," Orochimaru tilted his head. "What I am profoundly curious about is... what exactly is the core motivation that drives you to study power so obsessively?"
Kiyohara was silent for a long moment. He had asked himself this exact question before.
"Initially... it was simply to survive," Kiyohara's voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "On this battlefield, raw strength is the only currency that buys tomorrow."
He paused, calculating the exact psychological profile of the man standing in front of him.
"But later... I began to wonder why chakra behaves the way it does. Why does it spontaneously derive into distinct natures like Fire, Water, and Lightning? Why does it possess the biological capability to fuse into genetic Bloodline Limits? I feel that... exploring the mechanics of this process might eventually bring me close to some fundamental, universal truth."
Kiyohara deliberately beautified and intellectualized his pragmatic motivations.
Talk to people like a person, and talk to ghosts like a ghost. If Orochimaru liked this cold, scientific philosophy, then Kiyohara would adopt it flawlessly. If Hiruzen Sarutobi had asked the same question, Kiyohara would have immediately spouted propaganda about the "Will of Fire" and protecting the village.
"Truth?" The corner of Orochimaru's pale mouth curled up into a genuine, delighted smile.
"Perhaps it is just the unrealistic wandering of a tired mind," Kiyohara shook his head dismissively. "I just feel that since we possess such an incredibly complex, god-like power as chakra... we shouldn't be satisfied with merely using it as a blunt tool to kill each other. It should be capable of revealing the mechanics of reality itself. That is why I train so relentlessly across all disciplines."
The dark tent was dead quiet for several seconds.
Then, Orochimaru let out a low, echoing laugh.
"Heh heh heh... fascinating. Absolutely fascinating," Orochimaru's golden eyes burned with intense approval. "Kiyohara-kun. You are fundamentally different from the vast majority of primates in this village. They pursue power to complete missions, to satisfy petty hatreds, or to protect fragile ideals. But what you pursue... just like me... is the fundamental Truth itself."
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