Extra Training

After entering the second week, Uchiha Ling's days were divided into an extremely regimented routine.

In the morning, he refined chakra at the clan grounds. During the day, he attended classes. In the evening, he underwent the extra training Iruka arranged for him. At night, he reviewed every detail of the day alone. Compared to children his age, his life had almost no spare time.

But this intensity did not tire him of it.

On the contrary, whenever he closed his eyes and saw chakra slowly flowing through his meridians before being compressed denser by that mysterious seed, he clearly realized that he was gradually turning a path that would once only hurt himself into real strength.

The training Iruka gave him today was just as tedious.

Sticking leaves to his palm was only the beginning. After that, he had to maintain chakra of different intensities between each of his five fingers, then suspend droplets of water at his fingertips, and finally keep the droplets from scattering while sprinting.

"A ninja's job doesn't end with throwing a punch." Iruka stood at the edge of the field, his tone more solemn than usual. "Your type can become very strong once you grow stronger, but first, you need to learn not to hurt yourself."

Ling said nothing. He simply did as instructed.

As the water droplet hovered at his fingertip, he could clearly feel the faint sting deep within his eyes rising again. The Divine Pattern Eye had not fully awakened, yet it was enough for him to see the uneven thickness of the chakra clinging to the droplet's outer edge.

He adjusted it bit by bit until that membrane-like layer of chakra gradually evened out.

The droplet finally stabilized.

Iruka's gaze shifted slightly, but he did not praise him. He merely raised the difficulty again. "Run."

Ling stepped forward and burst into a sprint.

The moment he exerted force through his feet, the droplet began shaking violently. It was already difficult to balance ordinary chakra reinforcement of the body with delicate control, not to mention that his chakra was naturally prone to becoming unstable when compressed. Halfway through the first run, the droplet popped and shattered in his palm.

The second attempt was the same.

On the third attempt, Ling did not rush to forcefully suppress it. Instead, he deliberately lowered the intensity of the chakra in his legs and propelled his body in a steadier manner. He was a little slower, but the droplet miraculously held until he reached the finish line.

Iruka watched him and finally nodded.

"Remember that feeling. Real control isn't about crushing everything into submission. It's about knowing when to let go and when to pull back."

Ling remembered those words, vaguely realizing that he had relied too heavily on the explosive bursts created by compression. It was a sharp blade, but it could not be his only method.

As the training was about to end, several unfriendly laughs suddenly came from the side of the field.

"I thought you were practicing something impressive. Turns out you're just playing with water?"

Ling turned and saw Inuzuka Kiba standing not far away with his arms crossed, blatant provocation written across his face. Compared to most children their age, he had a more obvious wildness about him, and he had always spoken bluntly.

Iruka frowned. "Kiba, go back."

Kiba shrugged, but his eyes remained fixed on Ling. "Sensei, the Ninja Academy isn't a place for circus tricks. If he's really that good, why not have him run the obstacle course?"

Ling looked at him but did not agree immediately.

He was not afraid of competing. He simply did not want to let someone else dictate his entire rhythm.

But Iruka seemed to see through something and said flatly, "If you want to compete, wait until the basic course assessment. He's training right now, not putting on a show for you."

Kiba clicked his tongue and turned to leave, not forgetting to toss out one last remark. "Don't hide when the time comes."

Only after he had left did Iruka look back at Ling. "Don't let words like that provoke you."

"They won't." Ling withdrew his gaze. "But he's not wrong. Training has to be put into actual combat eventually."

Iruka paused slightly.

He had originally worried that Ling was too young and would be easily provoked into competing out of pride. But now, it seemed the truly frightening thing about this boy had never been just his talent, but the excessively clear judgment he possessed beyond that talent.

"Then keep training," Iruka said slowly. "Once you can bring all of this into battle, people will naturally shut up."

On the way back that evening, Ling replayed Kiba's words in his mind.

Obstacle course, speed, pursuit, sudden bursts...

All of them suited his compressed explosive power perfectly.

Perhaps his next step should be to try circulating chakra in layers through different parts of his body, rather than always betting everything on a single instant of full-force release.

That night, the clan training ground was so quiet that he could hear the wind passing through leaves in the distance.

Ling stood before a wooden post and repeated the movements he had not fully grasped that morning again and again. The water droplet in his palm, the chakra in his legs, the rhythm of his breathing, the minute structures in his eyes—everything had to remain stable at the same time.

Failure.

Then failure again.

Until the seventeenth attempt, he finally managed to keep the drop of water at his fingertip even after sprinting five steps.

The droplet swayed gently beneath the moonlight, like a tiny mirror.

Ling looked at it and suddenly revealed the faintest smile.

Kiba probably thought he had merely tossed out a provocation.

But to Ling, it was more like a reminder.

His speed and explosive power truly needed to begin moving toward real combat.