The Third Great Ninja War had been raging for several years. Konoha, relying on its astonishing heritage and an endless stream of talented ninja, was beginning to show its advantage on the front lines.
However, the village was not as relaxed as during previous wars. Facing the encirclement of several Great Ninja Villages, Konoha had deployed nearly all of its elite forces. By the time the Kannabi Bridge Battle occurred, and Maito Dai intercepted the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, the Third Great Ninja War would essentially be over. But these landmark events had not yet come. According to Riku's calculations, they should be arriving soon; in no more than a year, Konoha would achieve victory.
To handle the war, Konoha had dispatched almost all Chunin and Jonin, leaving only the private ninja of various clans, as well as those in Anbu and Root, within the village. Even newly graduated Ninja Academy students were sent to the battlefield.
Perhaps in the eyes of high-ranking officials like Hiruzen Sarutobi, "low-level ninja" such as Maito Dai and Might Guy—who specialized primarily in Taijutsu—weren't even considered cannon fodder. That was why father and son could remain in the village and continue their training. For Riku, this was the perfect opportunity.
Determined to maximize his training, Riku had prepared thoroughly. He had obtained specialized training uniforms for Taijutsu and even purchased a large set of weights. Without any flashy schemes, he dressed in his uniform and waited on the path the father and son were known to take.
Sure enough, not long after, two green-haired figures shouting about the vitality of youth appeared. As they passed, Riku naturally followed, without speaking a word. He knew that for a pure-hearted person like Maito Dai, only sincere actions could leave an impression. After all, men should sweat together to celebrate youth.
Even the usually taciturn Maito Dai noticed a small figure trailing him. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was a Hyuga clan member—a scion of a distinguished family. However, he said nothing and only glanced at Riku a few times before focusing on training with his son, Might Guy.
Encounters like this were not uncommon. Often, ninja who tried to train alongside him would give up within a day. A rare few might last a day or two, but most left quickly. To Maito Dai, a noble like Riku was probably seeking novelty, and once he experienced the monotony of the training, he would likely leave.
Yet, something about Riku seemed different. There was a certain fire in his eyes—a genuine desire to grow stronger. It reminded Maito Dai of his own youth. Shaking his head, he stopped overthinking, though he often found himself glancing at the persistent follower during their exercises.
Their training regimen was grueling: fifty laps around the village, ten thousand meters of handstand walking, one thousand push-ups, five thousand frog jumps. To an outsider, these exercises seemed tedious, even simple. There were no flashy techniques or mystical secrets. Most would dismiss them as a waste of effort.
But the truth was, these basic exercises were essential for improving skill. They tested willpower and the ability to endure pain. Even ninja with exceptional chakra reserves rarely completed such abnormal training. Maito Dai knew this and watched closely, wondering how long the young Hyuga would endure, and at which point he would give up.
Yet, by the end of the day, Riku had followed them with terrifying perseverance, completing every exercise without complaint. How he managed to keep up with father and son was a mystery. When the final exercise was done, he collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. Every muscle in his body groaned.
For an ordinary person—or even a typical child—this training would have been crippling. Adult ninja could easily sustain hidden injuries from such exertion. But Riku was different. Fused with Hashirama cells, his vitality far surpassed ordinary ninja, and his recovery ability was extraordinary. Though his body was fatigued, he could feel a vibrant power flowing from deep within, repairing all damage. After this recovery, his physique seemed visibly stronger.
At that moment, a prompt appeared before his eyes:
[Iron Fist Basics (C) skill has been recorded, experience +176]
[Free experience +97]
"This… is a new skill?" Riku froze. He realized he had misunderstood the panel's criteria for recording skills. Previously, he had assumed that only flashy, named techniques counted. Yet this prompt shattered that notion.
Iron Fist Basics—this counted as a skill. When he thought about it carefully, it made perfect sense. A skill is simply a combination of technique and ability, improving one's capabilities through effective methods. This, indeed, was a skill.
The Iron Fist Basics skill could enhance Riku's physical fitness and strengthen his body. Compared to other skills with flashy effects, it seemed plain. Yet it met the definition of a skill, and Riku liked it. Watching his body grow stronger gradually was truly satisfying.
He understood why so many in his previous life spent endless hours at the gym. The feeling of forging one's body into an ideal state was intoxicating. Improvement of extraordinary power brought joy, but shaping the body itself brought a unique, addictive satisfaction.
With this successful training, Riku's expectations for his panel grew. Perhaps one day, he could create skills of his own that the panel would recognize. With sufficient imagination and a strong foundation, there was no reason he couldn't innovate as the natives did with Ninjutsu. Using the panel as a "verifier," his skill creation could surpass ordinary methods in efficiency and clarity.
As Riku lay catching his breath, he felt a thrill at the possibilities. Strength, resilience, and creativity—all intertwined. Every drop of sweat, every aching muscle, was a step toward mastery.
Maito Dai, glancing once more at the determined young Hyuga, smiled faintly. He could sense that Riku's perseverance wasn't just a passing whim. The boy had a rare combination of grit and ambition, and it reminded him of the days when he had trained relentlessly alongside Might Guy.
The training continued the next day, and the day after. With every passing session, Riku's body adapted. Each lap, each push-up, each frog jump, became less of a challenge, and more of a medium through which he could grow stronger. Even Maito Dai noted subtle improvements: a slightly faster handstand walk, more fluid push-ups, an increasing number of frog jumps before exhaustion.
Riku's progress was not merely physical. His mind sharpened, focus intensified, and the boundaries of his endurance expanded. He discovered a rhythm, a connection between mind and body, that allowed him to push further than he had thought possible.
By the end of the week, the father-and-son duo could no longer help but respect his persistence. Riku was no longer just a curious follower; he was a genuine disciple of effort. Every drop of sweat, every gasp of air, every aching muscle was proof of his commitment.
For Riku, the journey had only begun. With the Iron Fist Basics skill recorded and his body steadily transforming, the world of Ninjutsu and physical mastery beckoned. There were new heights to climb, new skills to master, and the silent verification of the panel to guide his growth.
No longer was he merely chasing novelty. Now, Riku was chasing mastery. And every day, every session, brought him closer to the strength he desired—a strength forged not from luck or natural talent alone, but from perseverance, dedication, and the unyielding will to surpass limits.
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