This Is the Warrior Race

However, Kikyo soon realized she had completely underestimated the Uchiha.

Below, instead of the expected dejection or retreat, there came a faint stir and a few suppressed chuckles.

The laughter grew louder, turning brazen!

"Strong-willed heart?"

"Years?"

"Heh..."

The Uchiha clan members exchanged glances, their eyes devoid of any discouragement, instead burning with an even fiercer, almost defiant light in the depths of their pupils.

A strong will? A strong-willed heart?

Wasn't that describing them, the Uchiha?!

The Uchiha Clan, who had carved their way through mountains of corpses and seas of blood since the Warring States Period—when had they ever lacked a strong-willed heart?

They were proud, arrogant, believing firmly in their own strength and bloodline.

This pride and confidence, etched into their very bones, was itself the purest embodiment of a "strong-willed heart"!

Hadn't the awakening and evolution of the Sharingan always required intense emotions and obsession?

This aligned, to some extent, with the demands of training Haki!

Watching the Uchiha below, who were not intimidated but instead had eyes blazing with heat, eager to try, as if their fighting spirit had been ignited—

Kikyo's heart skipped a beat, and that ominous premonition grew even stronger.

The days that followed fully confirmed her premonition.

The Uchiha Clan displayed a breathtaking passion for training and...

a downright monstrous adaptability!

They might have been unfamiliar at first with that feeling of "sensing bodily energy, guiding its flow, condensing and hardening it."

But don't forget—the Uchiha had the Sharingan!

Though it couldn't directly copy Armament Haki, the Sharingan's powerful insight and learning ability

allowed them to mimic with extreme precision the energy flow paths and striking techniques demonstrated by Sandersonia and the others, quickly making fine adjustments.

More importantly, that pride and confidence rooted in their bloodline and strength

truly perfectly matched Haki's demand for willpower.

When an Uchiha clan member firmly believed they were strong enough, believed they could master this power, that strong will naturally emerged, driving the latent potential within them to burst forth.

In just one month, talented individuals like Uchiha Yashiro and Uchiha Tekka, core members of the radical faction, made breakthroughs.

They were the first to successfully condense a faint, barely perceptible black luster on their bodies' surfaces—fleeting, yet marking their successful entry into the threshold of Armament Haki!

Two months later, the number who had successfully entered the gate exceeded fifty!

Three months later, that number had doubled, reaching over a hundred!

Though most were still stuck at the most basic "hardening" stage—small coverage, short duration, high consumption—they had indeed mastered Armament Haki!

The Kuja warriors sent from Kuja Island to teach Haki, including Sandersonia, watched the Uchiha ninjas training hard on the practice field—some with fists coated in faint black, others with kunai wrapped in weak black light—and their eyes nearly popped out.

"Wh... what the hell..."

one Kuja warrior muttered. "It's only been three months... Are they even human?"

Kikyo stood in silence, watching the scene before her, her mind reeling from the impact.

How long had it taken her to master Haki back then?

About a year, she recalled, and that had already made her one of the finest warriors of the Kuja Tribe.

Now, looking at these Uchiha...

She finally understood what it meant to be a true warrior clan.

These people who called themselves Uchiha—their talent and potential were probably indeed better suited for training Haki.

Not just one or two.

This was a group of people with strong-willed hearts!

Uchiha Yoru stood at the edge of the camp, watching everyone training Armament Haki with fervent energy, a satisfied smile on his face.

He turned to Shisui beside him, who was also attempting to initially combine chakra with Haki, and said softly:

"See? These are our Uchiha clan members—how full of vitality they are!"

Shisui nodded, feeling the faint but real hardening sensation at his fingertips.

As the undisputed genius of the Uchiha, Shisui was naturally among the first to master Haki.

Now, he had moved past basic Haki training and was attempting to advance toward higher-level cultivation.

"This power is strong, but I still can't integrate it well into my jutsu."

Shisui shook his head.

Truth be told, what he really wanted was to combine this new power with his dojutsu, but that was clearly even harder.

"Don't overreach, careful you don't pull something."

Yoru warned once and then fell silent.

Every genius had their own pride—even someone as gentle as Shisui was no exception.

Once these people made up their minds, it was hard for others to change them.

"By the way, what about that guy Itachi? Why haven't I seen him around again today? Where'd he run off to?"

Suddenly, as if spotting a blind spot, Yoru swept his gaze across the Uchiha Compound and asked Shisui.

Shisui was Itachi's best friend and mentor, and with their shared ideals, the two were very close.

Many of the things Itachi discussed with Shisui, he was unwilling to confide in his own Big Brother.

Bullshit!

The little brother was no longer loyal—this foolish little brother wasn't cute at all.

Fortunately, Kuja Island was neither too small nor too large.

With nothing else to do, Yoru took a stroll and finally spotted Itachi's figure on a low cliff.

He stood motionless at the cliff's edge, staring out at the distant sea.

No one knew what he was thinking.

"Ahem, why aren't you training properly? Hiding here to slack off."

Yoru faked a couple of coughs, put on a stern expression, and questioned him.

Too bad this trick only worked on seven-year-old Sasuke.

Itachi, from the age of four, had a mind as mature as an old man's—completely unteaseable.

"Big Brother, is this the New World you spoke of?"

Itachi's voice was calm. He didn't turn around, his gaze still fixed on the boundless blue.

The sea breeze brushed through the hair on his forehead, carrying a salty, damp scent, along with the cries of distant seabirds.

Yoru walked up beside him, standing shoulder to shoulder, also looking out at the sea.

"This is nothing. What you're seeing is barely a ten-thousandth of this world. This world is vast—really vast.

So, how about it? Isn't this place way better than Konoha?"

Yoru lifted his chin slightly, looking proud.

Why bother scheming with the Third Generation and the rest? All that scheming ever did was revolve around a single village.

If you didn't know, you'd ask—was being a village chief really that big a deal?

Too small, too small—their vision was too narrow!

The cramped little Konoha couldn't hold his heart, which yearned for the stars and the sea.

With no immediate survival crisis, Uchiha Yoru declared that he had already let himself drift!

"It's quiet."

Itachi ignored his brother's strange expression beside him and said softly:

"Unlike Konoha, it's quiet here. No hidden gazes in the shadows, no heavy air."

Yoru smiled, knowing Itachi was referring to the constant surveillance by Konoha's higher-ups and the long-standing oppressive atmosphere of the Uchiha Clan.

Come to think of it, the whole clan had been busy learning Haki lately—very proactive indeed!

Really, you just had to keep these Uchiha busy.

A busy Uchiha was a good Uchiha!