The training yard shimmered under the noon sun. Heat pressed down heavy on the dirt, the kind that made weaker men retreat for shade. Ren stayed put. His cloak was damp with sweat, but he ignored it. Today wasn't about comfort. Today was about growth.
Escanor stood across from him in his proud, blazing form. Sunlight clung to his broad chest and rippling arms as though he commanded the star itself. His axe rested in the dirt beside him, unused but menacing simply for being there.
"You've taken cursed energy from the blindfolded man," Escanor said, voice like rolling thunder. "Now you'll take magic from me. Understand this—what I give you is not my Sunshine. That is mine alone. But fire runs in my blood, and fire will answer to yours."
Ren's Sharingan spun once. "Fire fits. The Uchiha already breathe flames. I'll take it and make it mine."
A grin stretched Escanor's face, brilliant and arrogant. "Good. Then stand firm."
He raised one hand, resting it flat against Ren's chest. The touch seared instantly—hotter than steel from a forge. Ren clenched his jaw as Escanor pushed his own magic into him.
It was not chakra. Chakra flowed like water in veins, a balance of energy and spirit. This was different. Escanor's magic was raw, molten, and alive. It didn't want balance—it wanted to burn.
Ren's breath hitched. The magic tore through his chakra coils like wildfire, clashing violently with what was already his. His knees nearly buckled. For a moment, he thought it would consume him.
"Hold," Escanor barked. "If you can't master a spark, you're unworthy of flame."
Ren grit his teeth, forcing the clashing energies to stabilize. He shaped them as if chaining a beast—curse energy steadying the flow, chakra guiding its path. Slowly, painfully, the burn dulled from agony to pressure.
Then, in his palm, a flicker.
A small flame danced, faint but pure.
Ren stared at it, chest heaving. It wasn't katon—he hadn't made a single seal. This fire bent only to will.
Escanor withdrew his hand, pride radiating from him. "Unrefined, but yours. That spark will grow."
Ren curled his fingers, snuffing the flame out. "Then I'll make it grow fast."
They moved to open ground. Ren formed the familiar seals, inhaled, and exhaled: "Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
The sphere of flame roared forth, but something changed. Instead of dispersing quickly, it condensed, burned hotter, the edges sharp instead of ragged. The fireball smashed into the training post and melted the wood to charcoal instantly.
Gojo whistled from the sidelines. "Well, well. Congratulations, Boss—you're a walking arson case."
Zabuza grunted, unimpressed on the surface, though his eyes narrowed in thought. "Hotter than normal. Controlled. You could burn through armor with that."
Ren ignored them both, staring at his own hands. It works. Katon and magic feed each other. The Sharingan can follow the flow. This is mine now.
Escanor folded his arms, smirk wide. "That is fire worthy of an Uchiha. A dawn flame. In time, you'll wield it like the sun itself."
Ren gave the faintest smirk back. "One step at a time."
The next days blurred into drills. By noon, Escanor forced Ren through endless trials: summoning flames without seals, weaving them with chakra-based fireballs, compressing heat into blades of flame that cut straw dummies to ash.
"Again!" Escanor's voice bellowed. "Do not let the fire master you. You master it!"
Ren staggered, sweat running down his face, but each time he shaped the spark faster, steadier. Fire no longer slipped wild—it bent to him.
By evening, he could conjure a thin line of fire across his kunai, turning the steel red-hot. By the third day, he blasted controlled bursts of white-hot flame that seared through training posts cleanly instead of leaving scorched messes.
Gojo laughed through it all, lounging like a man at a festival. "I'm telling you, Boss, you're one fireworks show away from bankrupting every blacksmith in Wave. Why buy torches when we've got you?"
Ren shot him a glare. "Do you ever shut up?"
"Nope," Gojo said cheerfully.
By night, Escanor's meek form appeared, shoulders slumped, voice soft. He tended Ren's burns with careful hands, laying out bandages with almost motherly precision.
"I… I may have pushed you too far," Escanor whispered once, eyes downcast. "Magic burns differently than chakra. It scars the spirit if mishandled. If you—if you hate me for this—"
Ren shook his head, voice flat but certain. "Pain means progress. I'll take it."
Escanor's timid eyes widened.
Ren leaned back against the wall, staring at the flickering tavern lanterns. "You're wrong if you think I'll collapse under this. I won't. I don't burn out. I burn forward."
Escanor's meek form trembled, then nodded slowly. "Then… you are stronger than I dared believe."
On the fourth day, Ren tested himself against recruits. Escanor set it up, arms crossed as he watched.
"Five against one," Escanor declared. "Strike him without fear. If he can't stop you, he doesn't deserve the fire."
The recruits moved cautiously at first, then with full intent. Blades swung, spears thrust, chakra sparked. Ren weaved between them, Sharingan spinning, his fire magic sparking to life with each movement.
A kunai came too close. He parried, but another recruit's strike nearly found his ribs.
For a heartbeat, Ren saw failure.
And then, everything sharpened.
His Sharingan flared, tomoe whirling—one, two, then three. The third snapped into place, complete.
The world slowed. He saw every line of attack, every angle of flame, every twitch of muscle before it moved. He stepped precisely where he needed to, parried at exact angles, countered with fire that licked but didn't kill.
The recruits fell back one by one, stunned, weapons scattered. Ren stood at the center, chest rising slow, eyes glowing crimson with three perfect tomoe.
Silence held the yard.
Then Escanor's proud laughter boomed. "Magnificent! You've seen the battlefield with the eyes of fire itself. The Sharingan bows to no man now!"
Gojo's smirk widened. "Well, well. Congratulations, Boss. Now you can predict my jokes before I make them. Not that it'll help you."
Ren exhaled, steady, his heart still thundering. Three tomoe. Finally. This is what it means to see everything.
That night, Escanor's meek form sat with Ren by the fire. His hands trembled slightly as he poured tea.
"You carry my fire now," he said softly. "Not my Sunshine—never that. But fire enough to stand apart. Few could bear it. You did."
Ren looked into the cup, then at the flame dancing in the hearth. "Because fire was already mine. You just gave it teeth."
Escanor lowered his head, voice almost trembling. "Then… I am glad. Even if I am weak at night, at least my fire has meaning in you."
Ren set the cup down, voice calm. "Both your sides matter. Don't forget that."
From the doorway, Gojo leaned in with his usual grin. "Look at that. Our Boss is getting sentimental. Next he'll be writing poetry."
Ren shot him a look. "Shut up, Gojo."
Gojo just laughed.
By dawn, the yard filled again with Escanor's booming orders. Recruits marched, trained, and sweated under his merciless eye.
By night, the tavern hummed with whispers, Escanor's meek form listening as carefully as he poured drinks.
Ren watched it all, eyes glowing faintly with his fully awakened Sharingan. Fire curled at his fingertips—not just katon, not just magic, but a blend of both, chained perfectly by his will.
The Uchiha were meant to end in blood. I'll rewrite that destiny with fire bright enough to blind fate itself.
The Eclipse Order now had a leader whose eyes saw everything, and whose fire promised to burn a path through whatever came next.