Merely This Degree

The notoriety of the Uchiha abroad still had its uses.

Mifune relented.

If a chubby kid from the Akimichi Clan had come to negotiate, Mifune would have taken his threats as nothing more than a joke, no matter how harsh his words were.

But two brats with "red-eye disease" were a different story.

Body Flicker Shisui went without saying, and based on Mifune's experience, that kid named Uchiha Sora was also a master of swordsmanship, judging by his demeanor and muscle tension.

They looked to be only about ten years old, yet to Mifune, they felt like A-rank samurai in terms of strength.

An A-rank samurai was roughly equivalent to a Jonin among ninja.

And that was without even considering the fact that they possessed the Sharingan...

If a real fight broke out, Mifune wasn't even sure if the Land of Iron could take them down.

Even if they could, Mifune wouldn't dare make a move.

The Hyuga needed the Caged Bird Seal to protect the Byakugan, so why didn't the Uchiha have such a curse mark?

There were many reasons. For one, the Byakugan was easy to awaken, highly compatible with ordinary ninja, and more useful in large-scale warfare than the Sharingan.

The main reason, however, was the fearsome reputation of the Uchiha Clan.

During the Warring States period, if any ninja clan dared to touch a member of the Uchiha, the Uchiha would inevitably slaughter their entire clan to the last man!

According to uncertain legends, the conflict between the Uchiha and the Senju originated when the Uchiha set out to exterminate a certain clan, only for that clan to seek help from the Senju.

Even then, the Uchiha Clan had endured massive casualties to ruthlessly wipe that clan out anyway!

For a thousand years, the impression the Uchiha left on the ninja world was that of stubborn fanatics; once provoked, it was a fight to the death.

It was only in the last few decades that the Uchiha's influence had waned.

Even so, the major nations still had rules in place forbidding one-on-one confrontations with the Uchiha at the same rank.

Uchiha Sora did not want to fall out with the Land of Iron; it did not serve his interests.

The Land of Iron was even more afraid of provoking the Uchiha.

As the General of the Land of Iron, Mifune understood the principle of choosing the lesser of two evils.

After several hours of tug-of-war, both sides reached an agreement.

Mifune would trade the quotas originally intended for small nations like the Land of Snow and the Land of Demons to Uchiha Sora.

In return, if those small nations caused trouble for the Land of Iron, the Land of Iron would shift the blame onto the Uchiha.

Having already offended Kumogakure, the Uchiha didn't care about a few more fleas.

As the negotiations ended, Mifune sighed helplessly, looking deeply at Uchiha Sora.

This kid had no political tact; he only knew how to play the "good cop, bad cop" routine.

Yet, that routine had truly pinned him down.

Whenever his proposals didn't meet their expectations, Shisui would shout about wiping out the Land of Iron...

If both of them had shouted that, Mifune, driven by the pride of a samurai, might have actually started a war in a fit of rage.

But there was always Uchiha Sora there to smooth things over...

The whole act made Mifune feel like he was dealing with a relative's kid asking for red envelopes—if you didn't give, they'd throw a tantrum; if you didn't give enough, they'd throw a tantrum too. There was simply no room for bargaining.

Bang!

Uchiha Sora pulled a box from his storage scroll, opened it, and showed Mifune that it was filled with silver ryo.

Fugaku had given him half of the clan's liquid assets for this trip; if a certain green-eyed man found out about this amount, he would definitely hunt him down across ten thousand miles.

"I trust in your character, Lord Mifune. Let us settle the payment for this shipment directly."

"I also ask that you trust us Uchiha; there are no partners more trustworthy than we are. I am still young, and you are still vigorous—we have a long road ahead of us."

That means your room for growth is vast, while I am already old and should act honestly, does it...

Mifune nodded and said in a deep voice, "I will prepare the mineral materials. Will you wait to take them, or will you send someone to receive them later?"

"Someone will come to receive them later; we won't wait."

"Very well... It is getting late. I have already had a banquet prepared. Please, move to the dining hall."

Uchiha Sora smiled faintly: "Dinner is a must, but before that..."

"Lord Mifune, you are hailed as the legendary master of Iaijutsu, one of the few powerhouses in the ninja world who managed to survive against Senior Hanzo."

"I would like to request a spar with you, if I may."

It was not a taunt.

In the common knowledge of the ninja world, being able to escape from Hanzo was indeed proof of one's strength.

After all, that was exactly how the Konoha Sannin had made their name.

Uchiha Sora genuinely wanted to seek instruction in swordsmanship; he had no teacher in the true sense, and his taijutsu had only been honed by brawling with Ninja Cats in the Cat Village.

It lacked the flashy, aesthetic grace typical of the Uchiha, being instead exceptionally pragmatic.

To Mifune, however, Uchiha Sora's words did not sound that way.

Mifune had been forced to agree to these negotiations, and he was already in a foul mood.

In his eyes, this was Uchiha Sora wanting to test his mettle—the arrogance of a fledgling brat.

Very well...

This old man would also like to teach you a lesson, in return for the "education" you gave my subordinates.

Mifune stood up: "The training ground is outside. Please."

--

In the massive circular training ground, the snow lay deep.

The twilight filtering through the clouds reflected off the snowflakes, creating spots of light with a hazy, ethereal beauty.

"Chosuke, lend him your blade."

A tall samurai heard this, unhooked the katana from his waist, and walked over to present it to Uchiha Sora with both hands.

"Her name is Ryuzuki... You must treat her with care. She is forged with thirty percent chakra metal. Remember, you must infuse her with chakra before clashing blades, otherwise her hardness is inferior to that of a steel sword..."

"Konoha has a bad example of this; I heard the son of the Hatake family ruined the precious blade of White Fang. That sword was from the same batch as my Ryuzuki... In any case..."

Uchiha Sora looked at him with a very strange expression.

Wait, are you introducing your wife or something?

I've heard that top-tier swordsmen treat their blades like lovers, but that's just a metaphor—you're doing it for real?

Snap!

Uchiha Sora snatched the sword and turned toward Mifune: "Alright, alright, I'll be careful."

Shing—

As he spoke, he drew the long blade and tossed the scabbard into the snow.

The blade was about three feet long, pure white throughout, and if one looked closely, it had fine, delicate lines resembling snowflakes and moon patterns.

"Hey! You..."

In the snow, Uchiha Sora stepped toward Mifune, adjusting his breathing and exhaling white mist.

Three tomoe slowly emerged within his eye sockets, glowing a vivid, blood-red.

Another Three Tomoe so young... The Uchiha clan really is...

Mifune crouched slightly, his hand resting on his hilt.

"Very good."

"Adjusting your breathing, focusing your entire intent, preparing to go all out from the very start. It seems you are well aware that this old man is not someone you can handle casually."

"I hope your blade isn't as long-winded as your words."

Uchiha Sora held the sword with both hands, and flames spread from his palms to the blade, causing the snow-and-moon-like steel to bloom with magnificent sparks.

Feeling the chakra conduction efficiency...

Indeed, using such a fine piece of equipment was a completely different concept compared to ordinary ninja tools.

"Here I come!"

"If your eyes cannot see clearly, use your spirit to perceive!"

Mifune shouted a reminder, habitually treating Uchiha Sora like one of his subordinates during a routine sparring session.

Shing!!

Suddenly, a figure moved like a startled swan.

The brilliant flash of the blade was like a dragon breaking from the abyss, drawn with a sharp whistle that tore through the air!

The stance, the draw, the strike.

The three movements were executed in a single breath, completed in the blink of an eye!

Clang—

A metallic shriek rang out across the training grounds.

The two blades locked against each other.

Uchiha Sora gripped his sword with both hands, steadily catching the Iaijutsu strike.

The tomoe spun within his eye sockets as he spoke in a low voice.

"How could my eyes possibly fail to track something of this level?"

"Do not underestimate the Uchiha, old man."