Compression

After grasping the right direction, Uchiha Ling's training speed became astonishing.

Over the next few days, he poured nearly all his free time into the training grounds. In the mornings, he refined chakra in the Uchiha Clan compound; at noon, he found secluded corners to practice compression in the shortest possible bursts; after school, he repeatedly tested his body's reactions while in a compressed state.

Tedious, but effective.

On the first day, he could only keep his chakra compressed for two or three breaths.

On the second day, that time stretched to ten breaths.

By the third day, he could compress an ordinary stream of chakra into a higher-density state, then smoothly attach it to the surface of a kunai.

When the first kunai infused with compressed chakra struck the wooden target, a ring of fine cracks silently spread across the bullseye.

Ling stood where he was and looked down at his hand.

The same force, the same weapon, yet a completely different result.

This was what he truly needed.

Not merely greater strength, but strength that was clear, stable, and reproducible.

Rather than becoming complacent, he grew even more cautious. After every compression session, his chakra pathways ached faintly, as though a thin flame had gently scorched its way along them. The pain was not intense, but it was enough to remind him that he was still far from being able to squander this ability recklessly.

During the morning shuriken class, Iruka had everyone aim at moving wooden targets to test their basic throwing skills.

Most of the students before him could barely hit the edge of the targets. Occasionally, someone got lucky and struck the center, drawing a burst of surprised cries. When it was Ling's turn, he did not cause an obvious commotion like he had during the entrance test, but the surroundings still fell quiet.

Everyone was watching.

Ling paid them no mind and raised his hand to throw.

The first kunai struck the center of the wooden target.

The second cut into the crack left by the first, making the target's face shudder violently.

The third kunai was the fastest. Its tail even left behind a faint blue streak too subtle for the naked eye to distinguish. Before anyone could react, it struck with a sharp crack and shattered a corner off the edge of the target.

The training ground immediately filled with sharp intakes of breath.

Iruka looked at the cracked target, then at Ling calmly lowering his hand. His expression finally turned completely serious.

That was not something an ordinary child could achieve simply by having steady hands.

It was more like some abnormally condensed chakra had been attached to the weapon.

"Do it again," he said.

Ling did not refuse. In the second round, he deliberately held back, only embedding three kunai steadily around the bullseye without causing any obvious damage. Even so, many people at the edge of the field looked at him differently.

He knew the teacher was suspicious.

But suspicion was just suspicion. As long as there was no concrete evidence, it would not become trouble for the time being.

The afternoon lesson was short-distance sprinting and basic taijutsu.

The most direct improvement brought by compressed chakra was not merely weapon power, but explosive bursts of speed. Ling sent a thread of densely compressed chakra into his legs. Pain stabbed through his chakra pathways in that instant, and in the next, his whole body shot forward.

A thin line of dust rose beneath his feet.

When he stopped, he was only one step away from the finish line.

The entire class fell silent for a moment, then someone immediately shouted indignantly, "He must have cheated!"

"Can chakra really be used like that?"

"That's way too ridiculous!"

Ling ignored those voices and merely glanced down at his calves. Beneath his pant legs, the muscles were still trembling faintly. Clearly, this kind of enhancement did not come without a price. Both his chakra pathways and muscles were under greater strain.

Iruka did not state his opinion right away. He simply recorded the result, his gaze lingering on Ling for a moment.

Before school ended, the teacher called Ling aside.

"Your chakra has stabilized quite a bit lately," Iruka said bluntly.

Ling answered, "I just found a method."

"What method?"

"Pressing it down."

The answer was incomplete, but it was not a lie. Iruka frowned, clearly finding the explanation too vague. Yet as he looked at the child before him, who was far too calm, he ultimately did not press further.

"The Ninja Academy is not a battlefield," he said solemnly. "You can be stronger than others, but you cannot train yourself into ruin first. Understand?"

Ling nodded. "I understand."

He knew that Iruka was warning him not to lose control. At least in Iruka's eyes, he was still only a dangerous but gifted child.

After night fell, Ling returned to the Uchiha Clan compound. He had intended to go straight to the courtyard to train, but his father stopped him.

Under the covered corridor, the man held a thin sheet of academic records, his expression as cold as ever.

"You've been standing out at school lately."

Ling glanced at the paper and said nothing.

"The clan does not care whether you are first," his father said slowly. "But it cares greatly whether you look like an Uchiha when you represent the Uchiha Clan. You may have sharpness, but you cannot have loss of control."

That again.

Ling suddenly found it somewhat amusing.

Everyone emphasized control, yet not one of them truly knew what the power inside him meant. In the past, he might have found those gazes heavy; but now, having found his own path, he would no longer be easily shaken by a few judgments from the outside world.

"I'll keep it under control," he said.

His father looked at him as if seriously examining this silent son for the first time. After several breaths, he calmly withdrew his gaze. "Then prove it with results."

As the night deepened, Ling returned to the courtyard alone.

Once again, he opened those still-immature eyes and watched the paths of chakra flowing through his body, slowly compressing a thread of chakra into his palm.

This time, it did not go wild, nor did it explode.

Like tamed fire.

Ling raised his hand and gently pressed that dense mass of chakra into the end of a kunai. Fine ripples immediately spread across the metal surface, as though it were bearing a weight beyond reason.

As he looked at the kunai beneath the moonlight, a thought suddenly arose in his heart.

Since compression could transform its power so drastically, what if it exploded on impact after being compressed?

Ling's fingers slowly tightened.

He knew he was only one step away from a true offensive technique.