Time passed in a flash amid the utterly brutal, inhumane grinding frenzy.
Training Ground 3 had long lost its former tranquility.
It had become the exclusive battle arena of two new-generation grind kings.
"Great Ball Rasengan!"
With a roar that pierced the heavens, Naruto pressed both hands together, slamming a chakra sphere over a meter in diameter—spinning at high speed—down onto the ground.
Boom!
The earth shook violently. A massive bowl-shaped crater appeared, dust billowing everywhere.
At the other end of the field, Sasuke was enveloped in crackling lightning, his entire body transforming into a streak of blue electricity as he darted at high speed between dozens of wooden posts.
Wherever he passed, the sturdy posts were sliced apart silently like tofu, the cuts smooth as mirrors.
Chidori Current.
After a month of hellish training, both boys had already begun to grasp the advanced techniques Sora had custom-tailored for them.
Karin sat to the side, a constantly struggling water balloon hovering in front of her. She was fully focused on practicing the precise chakra control technique Sora had taught her—using medical ninjutsu for offense.
Sora lay lazily in the shade of a nearby tree, a grass stalk in his mouth, watching this flourishing scene of grinding with a satisfied yawn.
The leeks are growing splendidly.
Time to move on to the next phase of harvesting.
With a thought, a pitch-black crow flew out from his shadow and silently melted into the sky.
...
Uchiha clan grounds, clan head residence.
Uchiha Fugaku was in his study, solemnly wiping his personal sword.
Three soft taps sounded at the window.
His eyes sharpened. He pushed it open. A majestic crow landed on the sill, its scarlet eyes reflecting three spinning tomoe.
It released its talons, and a small scroll rolled down.
Fugaku unfurled it. Only one short line of text was written inside:
"The festival approaches. The fireworks may be somewhat noisy. May the family stay safe and await good news."
Fugaku's pupils contracted sharply.
Festival? The Chunin Exams!
Fireworks noisy? The village will fall into great chaos!
He understood Sora's meaning almost instantly.
This boy had not only foreseen the chaos—he was even looking forward to it!
Fugaku took a deep breath and burned the scroll to ashes with Fire Release.
He looked out at the prosperous Konoha beyond the window, his gaze unprecedentedly grave and burning.
Betting the fate of the Uchiha on a boy barely in his teens was undoubtedly a huge gamble.
But now, it seemed this young man was going much farther, and seeing much deeper, than he had ever imagined.
"Pass my order," he said gravely to the door. "From this moment, all clansmen on external missions are to return in batches. The clan enters maximum alert status. Without my command, no one is permitted to leave the clan grounds."
A low, respectful "Yes" came from outside.
The long-dormant war machine of the Uchiha began to quietly turn once more.
...
Konoha Premier Pot, main branch.
In the luxurious top-floor private room, steam rose in thick clouds.
The clan heads of the Akimichi, Yamanaka, and Nara—Ino-Shika-Cho—sat around a table with Sora Akashi, the secret big boss behind the scenes, enjoying a leisurely lunch.
"Sora, you kid—you're a real business genius." Akimichi Chōza stuffed premium snowflake wagyu into his mouth while mumbling praise. "Now everyone in Konoha knows about our Premier Pot!"
"Chōza's right." Yamanaka Inoichi nodded with a smile. "Even nobles from the Land of Fire sent people to pack up hot pot the other day."
Nara Shikaku slowly sipped his tea. He knew Sora hadn't called the three of them here just for a meal.
"Uncle Shikaku, you still understand me best." Sora set down his chopsticks, wiped his mouth, and flashed his signature harmless grin.
"The village is about to hold the Chunin Exams, right?"
The three nodded in unison.
"I heard the scale this time is pretty big. Sunagakure, Amegakure, Kusagakure—even a new village called Otogakure sent people."
Sora's tone was casual, like everyday chat.
But Shikaku's gaze instantly sharpened.
"So?"
"So, I need a legitimate identity." Sora spread his hands. "One that lets me step forward at the critical moment with real weight behind my words."
He looked at the three, smile unchanged.
"I need you to help spread a rumor in the village."
"Just say that I, Sora Akashi, am the direct disciple of one of the Legendary Sannin—Jiraiya-sama."
Nara Shikaku set down his teacup. The soft clink of porcelain against wood rang out clearly in the room thick with the aroma of rich beef tallow broth.
He looked at the boy across from him—whose smile was almost blindingly bright—and behind his glasses, his eyes glinted with the wariness of an intelligent creature facing the unknown.
"Spreading the rumor that you're Jiraiya-sama's direct disciple..."
Shikaku spoke slowly, as if chewing each word. "Sora, do you know what that means?"
"It means in everyone's eyes, you'll no longer be just an ordinary civilian jonin."
"You'll be branded with the Sannin label—seen as Jiraiya-sama's political extension in Konoha."
He paused, his tone turning extremely grave.
"This will displease the Hokage-sama."
Yamanaka Inoichi and Akimichi Chōza also stopped their chopsticks.
They weren't monsters like Shikaku with 200+ IQ, but they still had basic political instincts.
A genius who outshines his lord is one thing.
A genius with factional backing is something completely different.
The former, the Third Hokage could control and cultivate.
The latter was a potential, uncontrollable variable.
"Displease?"
Sora laughed. The smile was pure as a child's, but his words sent a chill down the spines of the three seasoned clan heads.
"Uncle Shikaku, you're thinking too simply."
"I'm not asking you to 'spread' it."
He raised one finger and wagged it lightly in the air.
"I'm asking you to 'detonate' it."
"I want this rumor to spread to every corner of Konoha in the shortest possible time. From the children in the ninja academy to the old ladies in the market—I want everyone to know."
Sora leaned slightly forward, his amber eyes flickering with wild yet rational light.
"And I don't want tame, neutral statements."
"I want you to exaggerate as much as possible, hype it as ridiculously as you can!"
"The once-in-a-century peerless genius, sage talent surpassing the Fourth Hokage, the official successor hand-picked by the Sannin Jiraiya..."
He spread his hands, a mischievous grin on his face.
"You can even hype me up as the Second Coming of the First Hokage—got it?"
Dead silence filled the private room.
Only the bubbling red oil broth in the pot continued to gurgle, as if mocking the three clan heads' stiff expressions.
He's insane.
That was the only thought in Nara Shikaku's mind.
This kid is absolutely mad!
So blatantly building himself up like this—this wasn't just provoking the Hokage's authority. This was pointing straight at the Third Hokage's nose and saying: I'm coming for your position!
"You're... you're courting death!"
Yamanaka Inoichi's voice was somewhat dry. He even forgot to use honorifics.
"No, no, no."
Sora leaned back comfortably in his chair and took a sip of iced plum soup.
"This is true open strategy."
"Uncle Shikaku, think about it—how would someone with ulterior motives view such an outrageous rumor?"
Shikaku's mind raced, lips moving, but no words came out.
"They'd think it's nonsense, a deliberate overpraise meant to harm."
Sora answered his own question, his smile growing more playful.
"They'll send people to investigate. And what will they find?"
"They'll confirm that I really am Jiraiya-sensei's disciple. They'll confirm that I really trained in sage arts at Mount Myōboku."
"Once those core facts are verified, all the exaggerated rumors will become my best camouflage. Everyone will think it's just a young man's arrogant boasting, or a clumsy publicity stunt by Jiraiya-sensei for his student."
"In the end, the only key, and most 'reasonable' impression left in everyone's mind will be—"
Sora paused, eyes gleaming.
"That I, Sora Akashi, am a genius disciple of the Sannin, with real strength and backing."
"And that's exactly the identity I need."