The main world.
Konoha Year Twenty-Two, autumn.
The British Continent, New Capital.
Deep beneath the Imperial Palace.
This was the Imperial Palace's innermost cultivation chamber. There were no windows or lights, only the dim purple glow of the Soul Yin Stones embedded in the walls. Complex runes covered the floor, each glowing faintly and resonating subtly with the Dragon Vein Formation Core. An indescribable, soothing energy suffused the air-the product of dragon essence power interwoven with spiritual energy.
Toyotomi Yinglang sat cross-legged in the center of the chamber, his eyes closed and his breathing steady. He was not wearing his moon-white Kariginu, only a thin black training outfit. His hair fell over his shoulders, with a few loose strands hanging across his forehead. His face was as calm as a deep pool.
He was cultivating. Not chakra, not ninjutsu, but the three colors of Yin Release. The color of observation, the color of armament, the color of the Supreme King-he had already trained them to the highest level. Omnipresent dominion, formless, supreme sovereignty. He had long since reached the threshold of three colors united. But he had never stepped into the ultimate realm.
"Color of observation, ultimate-true intent vision. See through people's hearts, discern lies, perceive the flow of fate."
"Color of armament, ultimate-authority body. The flesh becomes an absolutely 'untouchable' domain, negating the very existence of attacks."
"Color of the Supreme King, ultimate-heavenly mandate judgment. Grants its wielder the right to 'define fate.'"
He opened his eyes. They were neither Sharingan nor Rinnegan, just ordinary black eyes. Yet something slowly circulated within their dark depths. Not chakra, not spiritual energy, but an indescribable power of a higher order.
"Three colors united become Yin Release. Ultimate Yin Release becomes... creation."
He raised his hand, palm upward. A mass of formless