Prelude
"Seventy-two marks."
"Not bad, only nine short. Next, I'll show you the optimized version, but only once. How much you grasp is up to you."
"Understood. Thank you, Shirō-ge."
"Heh, why say that? Watch closely."
Shirō demonstrated the optimized Secret Technique to Xiao guang. After the demonstration, he dispelled his Monohoshizao and quietly returned to his room, not disturbing Xiao guang, who remained seated in the courtyard, eyes closed in deep thought.
Nakamura and the others had originally lingered nearby, intending to observe, but once they realized Shirō was using a Secret Skill, they respectfully withdrew indoors.
When Shirō came back alone, Nakamura raised an eyebrow.
"Where's Xiao guang? Why didn't she return? And what about you—you look worn out."
"It's nothing, I just need some rest. Xiao guang had a bit of an epiphany and stayed in the courtyard. Don't disturb her for now." Shirō shook his head, forcing his voice to sound steady.
"You sure? You don't look well." Nakamura frowned, concern written on his face.
"Really, it's nothing. I'll recover after a nap." With that, Shirō walked off toward his room.
Seeing Shirō's stubbornness, Nakamura didn't press further. There wasn't a reliable Medical-nin available nearby anyway.
The moment he shut his door, Shirō sat cross-legged and began meditating, trying to suppress the strain caused by borrowing the Heroic Spirit thought pattern.
He had long known about this application, but had avoided it out of caution—exactly because of the risk he now faced.
Even after more than a year of harsh training in chakra control and meditative focus, the side effects were brutal. If this had happened a year earlier, he might have collapsed outright.
There were, of course, ways to avoid this outcome. He could have abandoned the method entirely, since the thought pattern was only a fragment of the Heroic Spirit's cognition. Or, he could fully yield to it—but that path meant losing his own will.
And Shirō refused. Even if his choices were forced, he would walk a path of his own making.
So he endured. But he had overestimated himself—and underestimated the Heroic Spirit.
The thought pattern grew too quickly. Shirō's idea of using it as a cultivation aid crumbled. In the end, meditation soothed his mind only halfway before he fell asleep where he sat.
---
By morning, the others witnessed a sight that made Miyue's eyes sparkle with mischief.
Tai Yi was helping Shirō walk out of his room.
"Clang!"
The bowl in Miyue's hands slipped and shattered against the floor. Her eyes lit up. Grabbing Xiao Guang's arm, she exclaimed, "Look, look! They came out together! And he's so weak!"
"…"
Shirō sighed at the excited Miyue, while Xiao Guang's face turned scarlet.
"Don't get the wrong idea. My legs went numb, so Tai Yi helped me out, that's all."
"Hehe, understood, understood."
"…" Shirō had no faith in her words, but he had no way to stop her teasing. "Forget it, if that makes you happy…"
"Haha, Shirō, how are you? Really okay?"
"I'm fine. I just… forgot to lie down last night, so my legs went numb."
Yes, numb legs. After sitting cross-legged in meditation all night, it would have been strange if they weren't numb. Meditation tempered the spirit, not the body—it didn't circulate chakra like medical techniques or promote blood flow. And while one didn't need to sit cross-legged to meditate, Shirō did it for appearance's sake. Now he was paying the price.
"Sorry, Shirō-ge. You went through all that trouble for me yesterday." Xiao guang bowed deeply, her voice heavy with guilt. She had clearly heard about his condition from Nakamura.
"It's nothing. Don't worry about it. I just used the chance to test a Secret Skill."
"Secret Skill? But didn't you just learn it yesterday?"
"How could that be? Pingyi-senpai, I'd already learned the core of this technique from Sakumo-sensei before. Last night, I only used another Secret Method to accelerate my thoughts. No one can be that heaven-defying."
"That's true. Still, your talent is impressive. As far as I know, very few have even grasped the basics of that Secret Skill."
"I learned it, but it doesn't fit into my main combat framework. Without deeper mastery, it's just wasted effort, so I'll leave it aside." Shirō shrugged helplessly.
"Alright, enough talk. Breakfast, everyone—we've got another mission ahead. Shirō, will your legs hold?"
"Don't worry, Captain. I'll be fine in a bit. It won't affect combat."
"Good."
Since waking, Shirō had been quietly using chakra to stimulate his legs, though without medical ninjutsu the process was slow. That was why he'd needed Tai Yi's support. Still, it was enough—by the time they reached the battlefield, he'd be ready.
---
That day, they once again faced the endless tide of puppets. This time, Miyue and her teammates showed remarkable improvement thanks to the previous days' guidance, which reassured Nakamura and the others.
But by the third day, their mission still hadn't advanced beyond puppet battles. It was useful for training inexperienced shinobi like Miyue, yes—but their supplies were dwindling fast. Food, bandages, and even kunai were nearly spent.
Worse still, everyone knew the real threat—Mōryō—still loomed ahead. If they exhausted themselves on puppets, what then?
That evening, the leaders from each allied ninja village gathered at Miko's shrine to demand answers. If the sealing wasn't ready soon, they would have to retreat.
After all, they had brought their villages' most promising young shinobi. Losing supplies was one thing. Losing geniuses was unacceptable.
Miko understood this. Her compensation to the Five Great Nations had already been meager—most of their aid was given out of obligation to protect the world, not out of trust.
So she promised: one more day. Then the sealing ritual would be ready.
That answer was enough. Nakamura and the others could accept one day's delay. If all else failed, they could break out at any time, and Mōryō's true target wasn't them.
As for his supposed plan to "destroy the world"? Most of them scoffed. In their eyes, it was exaggerated—after all, how strong could a demon be, if history had all but forgotten him?
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