Raizen stood on the frozen lake, the wind biting at his cheeks, eyes scanning the horizon. Four years of constant travel, training, and survival had sharpened him—but the truth was brutally clear.
Detonating clay? A neat trick, but laughable against the giants like Hashirama Senju or Madara Uchiha. Flying Thunder God? Great for running, but utterly useless if the world itself was tearing you apart. Eight Inner Gates? Yeah, they could end legends in theory—but Raizen wasn't dying yet. Too many plans, too many unfinished pieces.
Even Sage Mode, as powerful as it felt, was just a shadow of true nature transformation. Hashirama's body flowed with an almost divine stamina. Raizen's own chakra would drain too quickly in comparison. And illusions? Forget Mangekyō—he didn't even have a fraction of that power.
He muttered under his breath, his eyes burning with a manic intensity. "If I want to survive… if I want to dominate, I need something stronger. Wood Style, Eternal Mangekyō, Rinnegan… maybe even a Tenseigan. Just one of those, and the Warring States would bend to me."
The Super Achievement System ticked silently in his mind. Every goal, every treasure, every battle—it was all a ladder. The first kill of a shadow-level ninja unlocked golden chests. Every step of strength gained was a reward waiting to be claimed.
Raizen knew the math: the quickest path to power was war itself. Blood, mud, steel—the battlefield was his classroom. He'd finish achievements, expand his clan, grow his influence, and strike at the world like a blade.
Four years of travel had tempered him, but the Warring States were never quiet. A forest ahead erupted in chaos: hundreds of ninjas locked in a desperate melee, their roars and clash of weapons cutting through the trees. Raizen sighed. Some things never change.
"Eh… really?" he muttered. He wanted to bypass the chaos, but the moment he stepped forward, dozens of kunai and chakra-infused projectiles locked onto him.
"Fire Style: Fire Dragon Technique!"
A ninja from an unknown family inhaled sharply and exhaled a massive torrent of flame, forming a dragon that lunged straight at Raizen.
"Water Style: Water Dragon Bomb!" Raizen's hand formed the seal in a blur. A towering dragon of water erupted from the lake, colliding with the fire and shredding the attacker in a spray of steam and blood.
No longer hesitant, the surrounding ninjas realized Raizen was not to be underestimated. They surged forward, surrounding him, but Raizen's footsteps were deceptive. Each step light, yet each landing carried a psychic weight in their ears, disorienting their senses.
"Not good… illusion!" one ninja hissed, teeth clenched.
Too late. Raizen's body flickered among the trees, shadows and misdirection twisting the battlefield. Kunai slashed, throats opened, and one by one, the illusion-struck ninjas fell, immobilized by Raizen's precise strikes.
"Ninfa·Chedu!" he whispered, and another wave of death rippled through the shadows. When the last ninja collapsed, Raizen wiped blood from his blade, smirking faintly.
But fate had other plans. A shout pierced the battlefield.
"Raizen!"
Raizen's head snapped toward the voice. A silver-haired youth, barely older than a shadow-level ninja, was holding back an advancing wave of enemies.
"Hatake Gintama?" Raizen muttered, recalling the stories Kakashi had once shared in Loulan. Apparently, this was his great-grandfather.
"I was born to work hard!" Raizen thought, sprinting toward the battlefield. The silver-haired boy's eyes brightened in relief; his posture shifted, forcing his assailants to retreat as Raizen charged in.
But danger was never far. A massive iron rod shot toward Raizen's face from the ground. Reflexively, he vanished, only to reappear across the battlefield. There, a boy of fourteen or fifteen leapt from the earth, gripping the iron rod like a war god.
"Who are you?" Raizen demanded, narrowing his eyes at the godlike figure.
"Sarutobi Sasuke!" the boy shouted, rushing with a swing that could fell trees, iron rod slicing through the air toward Raizen.
The forest seemed to freeze around them, the battle pausing for a heartbeat as two young prodigies collided in skill, reflex, and sheer determination.