At Konoha's training ground, Yamato formed hand seals.
This was not an attack—it was a demonstration. Wood Release: Wood Clone. A person identical to him stepped out of a tree trunk. It was not replication—it was growth. Under the force of chakra, wood fibers extended from the trunk and gathered into a human shape. It was not an illusion—it was solid.
"The essence of Wood Release isn't creating trees. It's creating order. Wood isn't a weapon—it's a container. The shape of a container determines what it can hold. What shape are your card slots in right now?"
Ringo sat cross-legged on the ground, his card slots fully open. Every fragment glowed—white, purple, gold, orange. They were not shining; they were interfering with one another. The Sound Wave Fragment and Steam Fragment were too close together, their purple and golden light clashing at the boundary. They were not merging—they were repelling each other. The Toad Power Fragment curled up in a corner, not because it was weak, but because it did not know where to go. The Bone King's Armor Fragment rested at the very top, its orange light spreading down over all the fragments. It was not protecting them—it was suppressing them.
"It's a mess." Ringo stared at the card slots for so long that his eyes began to ache. "It's not the fragments that are a mess—it's their positions. Every fragment has its own place, but no one told them where that place was."
Yamato dismissed the Wood Clone, walked over to Ringo, and crouched before him. He placed a hand on the ground. The ground was not dirt—it was wood. Wood Release chakra seeped from his palm into the earth. It was not an attack—it was sorting things out. Something moved underground. Not monsters—tree roots. Roots were buried