The winds of Sunagakure seem to never tire. But lately, the wind blowing on Shira's face, besides its usual dryness and harshness, seems to have a different, indescribable flavor.
It wasn't the smell of sand or the slightly sweet scent of moisture from a distant oasis, but rather a feeling of tension.
Like a bowstring slowly drawn back by an invisible hand, the air is filled with a tremor of anticipation.
This inexplicable feeling made Shira feel as if an invisible sword was hanging over his head during training, its tip seemingly pointing at the back of his neck, bringing a subtle yet persistent sense of crisis, like a thorn in his back.
It wasn't a specific fear, but more like a biological instinctive warning of an impending storm, a sense of urgency that "we must be faster, stronger, and better prepared," weighing heavily on every breath he took, every punch he threw, and every push he made.
"Is it because of news from the border? Or is it because I've been exposed to too many things lately and my mind is wandering too much?"
Shira stood on the gravel slope, completing a set of weighted squats. Sweat dripped from his chin and splashed into the sand, disappearing instantly. He wiped his face and gazed at the dusky northern horizon.
The news that the Vulture Iwagakure, the worried look in Ameno's eyes when she mentioned it, the noticeably increased frequency of patrolling ninjas in the village, and Granny Chiyo's occasional solemn expression...
The picture pieced together from these fragments is anything but reassuring.
The sense of crisis did not make him anxious; instead, it was like a bucket of ice water, extinguishing any possible slackening that might have arisen from his steadily improving strength, and making the flame in his heart burn even more calmly.
He knew that if turmoil truly came, he could only rely on his own fists, his sword, and his body, forged through countless trials.
"I can't be satisfied with just the overall improvement after activating the activity."
Shira adjusted her breathing, Seven Heavens Breathing Method: First Activation flowed naturally, with warm energy running smoothly through her limbs and bones.
"We need to find a way to control the flow of 'ki' more precisely, just like controlling Chakra. Battles are ever-changing; sometimes you need an extreme burst of speed, sometimes you need an instantaneous outburst of power, and sometimes you need your brain to work at super-high speed to seize opportunities..."
He recalled the tattered book " A Brief Introduction to Meridians," the withered yet precise fingers of Granny Chiyo, and Master Kenmei's instruction, "The sharpest point can sever the most obstructed point."
While dreaming, he came up with an idea. "Let the energy flow to your feet for speed, to your arms for strength, and to your brain to activate your spirit."
Although the terminology is different, the core idea surprisingly coincides with Shira's recent vague realization.
"Should we divide and guide, then concentrate and strengthen?"
Shira murmured to herself, her eyes gradually brightening. The Seven Heavens Breathing Method improves overall function, but could the pathways of the "qi" produced by breathing within the body be consciously and temporarily guided with a particular emphasis, on top of overall strengthening?
This is risky. A slight misstep could lead to an imbalance of energy within the body, or even cause harm. But it's worth the try, especially driven by this sense of crisis.
He closed his eyes and completely immersed himself in the rhythm of his breathing. No longer satisfied with simply letting the "qi" flow naturally throughout his body, he began to try to use his mind to very subtly "guide" the heat that surged with his breath.
The first attempt was with both legs.
Shira imagined "qi" as a stream, maintaining the basic circulation of the whole body while branching out into a stronger and more active tributary, flowing towards the feet, especially the soles and ankles, following specific sensations and combined with acupoint charts.
At first, nothing changed; it was just the mind spinning aimlessly.
But he remained calm and patient, maintaining his breathing rhythm, trying repeatedly and carefully experiencing the sensation. After an unknown amount of time, during the umpteenth breathing cycle, he suddenly felt that the warmth in his calves and feet seemed to have intensified slightly.
It wasn't my imagination; the muscles in my legs were slightly throbbing, and I felt a light, floating sensation, an urge to spring forward immediately.
He suddenly opened his eyes, without activating the Second Activation, and charged towards a rock about half a person's height in front of him with all his might, using only the First Activation!
"Whoosh--!"
The speed at which his figure flashed out was noticeably faster than his First Activation sprint! Although it was still far from " Body Flicker Technique," the speed of his start and the lightness of his steps were definitely enhanced.
But when he reached the rocks, he felt his legs were losing momentum and his upper body coordination was slightly sluggish, almost causing him to lose control.
As expected, the temporary emphasis on guidance disrupted the body's original balance, leading to a decrease in control.
There's a way, but it's not stable.
Shira leaned against the rock, panting, but felt more excited than frustrated.
He noted down the feeling, rested for a moment, and once his breathing had calmed down, he began to try to direct the perception of "qi" towards his arms.
This time it's more difficult. The meridians and muscle groups in the arm are more complex, requiring even greater precision control.
It took him even longer to barely grasp the subtle state of concentrating more "qi" in his arms. He aimed at the rock and threw a punch!
"Bang!"
With a muffled thud, a clearer fist mark appeared on the rock surface, and the recoil was stronger, making his forearm go numb.
While the strength has indeed improved, the trajectory of the punches and the coordination of the whole body's power seem a bit "stiff," not as smooth and free as usual.
"It seems that temporarily focusing on a particular aspect comes at the cost of sacrificing overall coordination and control precision. Furthermore, it is mentally taxing and cannot be sustained."
Shira rubbed her wrist, analyzing the gains and losses. "This can only be a burst technique for critical moments, or used for specific moves, such as a sudden boost from a single punch or kick. It can't be used as a regular method."
As for guiding the "qi" to rise to the head and activate the spirit...
He tried briefly but stopped immediately. A sharp, throbbing pain shot through his temples, and his vision blurred. Terrified, Shira quickly dispersed his thoughts and returned to a state of peaceful flow throughout his body.
The brain is too complex; irrationally stimulating it carries extremely high risks. This would likely require a profound understanding of meridians and acupoints in the future, or even special meditation or inherited methods. It is something we cannot do now.
Even so, this brief and clumsy attempt at "diversion" opened a new window for him.
Shira no longer views the Seven Heavens Breathing Method merely as a "general amplification switch," but begins to vaguely touch upon its more subtle and finitely controllable potential.
This requires a lot of practice, experience, and physical memory; it can't be rushed.
Just as he was immersed in this new understanding of cultivation, repeatedly trying, failing, adjusting, and trying again, until he was somewhat mentally exhausted and ready to end his training for the day, a calm and even voice came from behind the wind-eroded rock not far behind him:
" Shira."
Shira paused, that voice... she hadn't heard it in a long time.
He immediately suppressed his aura, turned around, and saw that Teacher I Fūgetsu was already standing there at some point. She was still wearing that neat dark ninja outfit, expressionless, with calm eyes, as if she had blended into the surrounding gray-yellow rock walls.
Why did he come here? This isn't a regular training ground; it's a secluded spot that Shira found herself.
"Teacher I Fūgetsu." Shira bowed respectfully, but her heart skipped a beat for no reason. Teacher I Fūgetsu had come in person; it couldn't be just for casual conversation.
I Fūgetsu nodded, her gaze sweeping over Shira's sweat-soaked training clothes and the rock beside her that had been "attacked" by punches and kicks. Without offering any comment, she said directly:
"Training suspended. Go back to prepare, check all ninja tools, equipment, and supplies. Assemble in the mission lobby before dawn tomorrow."
It was concise and to the point, with no mission details or target location, just a cold, impersonal command.
ah?
Shira's heart sank suddenly, as if gripped tightly by an invisible hand. Although she had a premonition, when she was actually informed by her teacher in this way, the lingering sense of crisis instantly materialized.
What was bound to happen, happened.
He met I Fūgetsu's calm yet unfathomable gaze, took a deep breath, suppressed the turbulent thoughts in his heart, straightened his back, and replied clearly:
"Yes, teacher."
Without asking any questions, without hesitating, a ninja's duty is to obey and execute orders.
The sword hanging overhead seemed to have finally determined the direction in which it would fall.
I Fūgetsu glanced at him again, seemingly satisfied with his quick and composed reaction. She nodded almost imperceptibly, and her figure vanished silently from the spot, like sand merging into the wind.
Shira stood there, gazing in the direction where her teacher had disappeared, then looked at the gloomy northern horizon.
The last rays of the setting sun were about to be swallowed by the sea of sand, and dusk surged in like a tide, bringing with it the biting chill of the night in the Sunagakure.
A storm is brewing, and the wind is howling.
Shira clenched her fist, feeling the power still flowing within her body due to the training she had just completed and her current state of mind.
Then, he turned and walked with more determined steps than he had taken on the way there, toward the village, toward his home, toward the unknown mission of tomorrow.
On the gravel slope, only the howling wind and swirling sand and dust remained...