Sarutobi Hiruzen looked down at the boy before him, smoke curling faintly from his extinguished pipe, and smiled. "If that sealing tag were a detonating tag, you would now be seriously injured… perhaps even dead. That is why I consider this lesson a success—you now understand where your weakness lies."
Shigure exhaled, his gaze lowering. "My swordsmanship. I knew it was lacking, and still I relied on it."
Hiruzen nodded slightly. "That is part of it. You are clever and strong, but your youth itself hinders you. Your body is not yet fully matured, your muscles not at their peak. You have gifts greater than most, but time has not yet tempered you. Do not let this frustrate you—you are still growing into your strength."
The words carried neither pity nor scorn, simply truth.
"As for shuriken…" The Sandaime's eyes gleamed with authority. "They are not just tools for throwing, nor only ninjutsu. They are extensions of your will. You must combine your natural judgment, experience, and chakra control to make them into true weapons. Even with simply shuriken and kunai, you could one day become a formidable force in the shinobi world."
Shigure bowed slightly. "As they say, talent alone is nothing. Hard work is the true foundation. I understand."
Hiruzen chuckled quietly. "Good. That will do for shuriken today. As for your weakness in swordsmanship… I have someone to recommend." He regarded Shigure carefully. "You've heard of Konoha's White Fang, Hatake Sakumo—the strongest swordsman of the Hatake clan. But Sakumo rarely teaches anyone, not even his own kin. Few know this, but his younger brother exists as well—called the Gray Fang, Hatake Saku. He is the father of Hatake Kusuo, your teammate."
Shigure's eyes widened slightly.
Hiruzen's smile deepened. "While Sakumo's fame shines brighter, the strength of the Gray Fang is not to be dismissed. Some even whisper it rivals his brother's. Seek him, if you wish. The Hatake way of the blade is strict, and Saku's requirements for students are… unusual. But if you prove yourself, he could forge you into a swordsman worthy of your blade."
The young Uchiha took the words to heart. He bowed deeply once more. "I will seek him out, Lord Hokage."
Satisfied, the Third Hokage clasped his hands behind his back and departed, his cloak once more wrapped around his form as the weight of the village's duties drew him away.
Alone in the training field, Shigure closed his eyes, Sharingan glowing, and replayed every motion he had witnessed. Slowly, his lips curved. "Shuriken Shadow Clone Technique… Shuriken Enlargement."
He whispered the names and began to practice obsessively. Hours bled into days. By the end, he had already mastered both techniques—but more importantly, something clicked in his mind.
The "bug."
When he dispelled his shadow clones, their accumulated experience returned to him instantly. This cheat—this secret—was the real advantage of the technique. Naruto had abused it to unimaginable extents, and Shigure, with Otsutsuki blood running in his veins, realized he could as well. His only limitation was age—his young body allowed him no more than five clones at once.
But even five was enough.
A dangerous spark lit inside him. What if…
"What if I inscribe the Flying Thunder God seal on specialized kunai," he whispered, "and then have my shadow clones multiply them with the Shadow Clone technique? Each clone throws, each kunai becomes countless. And then—" His hand clenched into a fist. "I can teleport to any one of them at will. Faster, sharper, unpredictable. Even Minato never achieved this. This would be my evolution… the Flying Thunder God, Third Stage."
Excitement surged through his veins. He could already see the structure in his mind:
Stage One—Shadow clones charge the enemy, drawing attention, distracting, inflicting the first damage.
Stage Two—The clones throw shadow-replicated kunai, creating a torrent of projectiles and openings, each marked with the seal. The pressure builds.
Stage Three—Shigure himself disappears into space and reappears from impossible angles, striking where no defense can reach.
Three waves of threat, one crushing finale.
"This… this will be my perfected Flying Thunder God," he murmured, eyes shining crimson.
From that moment, he trained without pause. Each clone threw, replicated, and vanished. Each time, Shigure felt the space-time pulse resonate clearer. He began to sense the technique as a window—space unfolding like a sliding shoji door, his body choosing where to pass through.
Days blended into nights. He practiced until his muscles trembled, until sweat soaked his shirt and his chakra reserves felt bone-dry. Yet, with every repetition, his mastery deepened.
One week later, Uchiha Shigure stood in the training grounds, chest heaving, Sharingan aglow, and whispered, "It's done."
The Third Stage was his.
Even Minato Namikaze, the Yellow Flash, had only perfected the second. With this, Shigure knew… as long as he was not killed instantly, he could dominate. Against one, against many, as long as clones existed, no one could pin him down.
A weapon beyond weapons. A nightmare no enemy could anticipate.
"It's finally complete…" A weary grin spread across his lips. He sheathed his blade and collapsed onto the wooden porch of his home, finally allowing himself to rest.
A sharp knock, knock, knock.
Shigure shot upright, body instinctively tense. Scarlet tomoe spun into place as he called out, "Who is it?"
The door slid open to reveal a middle-aged man in a neat kimono, bowing respectfully.
"Are you Uchiha Shigure-sama?"
The honorific startled him—it wasn't often someone called a five-year-old "sama." A wry smile tugged at his lips. "That's me. And you are…?"
"I am but a servant of the Hyūga clan," the man replied humbly. "I come under the order of Lord Hyūga Hizashi, who requests your presence at the Hyūga residence."
Shigure tilted his head. "Lord Hizashi? On his own initiative?" He did recall Hizashi mentioning a future invitation, but even so, it was rare. Curiosity replaced his hesitation. "Very well. Let's not delay. Lead the way."
The servant guided him across the village, walking at a measured pace. Soon, the elegant compound of the Hyūga clan rose before them.
Shigure's steps slowed slightly as his gaze swept across the estate. Large characters adorned the gates of one side: Main House. Further along, a smaller, less ornate compound bore a different sign: Branch House.
His eyes narrowed. He had read about the Hyūga's division in scrolls and stories, but to see it with his own Sharingan… to witness the bloodline-based caste laid out so visibly before him—it felt different. Cruel. Real.
"So it's true," Shigure murmured to himself. "The Hyūga really would go so far to guarantee loyalty and maintain control. To carve their own clan in half… into main and branch families."
The Sharingan flickered brighter. For a moment, contempt burned in his heart—not at Hizashi, who had been nothing but a fair teacher, but at the system itself.
The servant gestured politely toward the compound gate. "Please, Uchiha-sama. Lord Hizashi is waiting."
Shigure exhaled, pushing his emotions down for now. Still, as he stepped onto the Hyūga estate, he couldn't shake the feeling that whatever awaited him inside would not simply be another exercise in training.
The Hyūga's secrets were about to open to him.
And secrets always came at a price.
--
Unlock 50 exclusive advanced chapters for just $10 – don't miss out! Check the synopsis/description for the link! 🚀
Loved this fic? 🔥 Then you'll absolutely binge my other hits — "Douluo Dalu: Ten Thousand Years Early System!" & "Douluo Dalu: The Godly Drunkard System" — don't miss out!