Chương 61: Squadron Cultivation and the Frozen Breath

War never truly vanishes; it merely adopts a new visage. With the advent of the Hidden Villages, the conscripted armies of common men were relegated to the annals of history. The shinobi, moving away from the clan-centric skirmishes of the Warring States period, integrated into a professional military machine. This shift toward institutionalized warfare made the business of slaughter terrifyingly efficient.

To survive this new era, the Great Villages constantly refined their doctrines, expanding their tactical repertoire for both siege and defense. Take the Southeast Front as an example. To counter the high speed, mobility, and stealth inherent to shinobi, Konoha constructed a sophisticated defense network. It utilized fixed-point outposts in an interlocking, two-tier defense line, bolstered by mobile patrol units that roamed the gaps like hungry sharks.

This model—layered and redundant—had become the standard for every major village. The recent skirmish involving Might Guy's team was a perfect validation of this system. Within minutes of the Mist's assault, the surrounding units converged, turning a potential tragedy into a decisive victory. Had the enemy been an overwhelming force, the defenders wouldn't have made a futile last stand; they would have conducted a fighting retreat to the second line while flashing intelligence back to headquarters.

This was the rhythm of life on the front lines during the current stalemate. When the mobile support units finally arrived, the heavy lifting was done. Their task was the grim janitorial work of war: hauling away captives and corpses, and rotating a fresh squad to relieve Guy's team. Though Zhen had already stabilized their injuries, protocol dictated a recovery period. For Guy, Genma, and Ebisu, that meant two days of hard-earned respite. Every squad followed a similar cycle.

A rotation lasted a week, but the seventh day was always reserved for rest. Once that reprieve ended, they were redeployed—perhaps to a different point on the lines, or perhaps to the nomadic life of the mobile patrols. No one remained idle for long. Time flowed like water through a mountain stream, and ten days vanished in a blur of activity. Team 3 had completed their rotation and enjoyed their day of rest before being reassigned to the second line of defense, situated closer to the command center.

Life here was significantly more tranquil. Without the constant movement required by patrol duty, the squad found themselves with a surplus of time for cultivation. Yunmi Gekko's combat style mirrored that of Hayate and Yugao, allowing him to focus his instruction on refining their fundamentals. As for Higashino Zhen, the Jonin had long since admitted he had nothing left to teach him.

In fact, Yunmi secretly believed that no one in Konoha—perhaps even the world—was qualified to mentor a talent that defied pedagogy so utterly. The combat arts of the Gekko and Uzuki clans were rooted in Kenjutsu, interwoven with kinetic Genjutsu triggered by movement. It was a deceptive, lethal system designed to leave an opponent dead before they even realized they were being hunted. Their arsenal was a poetic list of lethality: The Dance of the Crescent Moon, Moon Shadow, Hazy Moonlit Night.

Zhen couldn't help but notice a pattern. Why is everything fixated on the moon? Between the clan names and the techniques, it's like they're obsessed. Did they bother to consult the Rabbit Goddess on the moon before claiming her brand? Aesthetically, the style was peerless. In practice, Zhen's assessment was blunt: it was a meat-grinder for fodder, but against a true heavyweight, it was little more than a parlor trick.

Small clans like the Gekko or Uzuki often produced competent specialists, but they rarely birthed the kind of titans that defined an era. This was the ceiling of the Konoha gentry. To help his childhood friends break that ceiling, Zhen had pushed them toward advanced nature transformation early on. Neither Hayate nor Yugao possessed his "cheat-code" levels of chakra control, so they were forced to take the long road—the grueling, repetitive path of brute-force mastery.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Yunmi, however, was a seasoned Jonin with a solid foundation in Wind nature. After months of studying Zhen's methods, he had successfully developed his own Vacuum Sword. While it lacked the terrifying speed and near-invisibility of Zhen's Shadowless Blade, it was a massive upgrade to his previous repertoire. It served as a sobering reminder: the average shinobi had a plateau.

Without profound wisdom, unyielding will, or an absurd stroke of luck, most could never transcend the limits of their mortal frame. Compared to Zhen, who had ventured into realms beyond their comprehension, Yunmi was the better teacher for the other two. His Vacuum Sword served as a reachable milestone, and when combined with the Kenjutsu insights Zhen had "liberated" from the veteran Maruboshi Kosuke, it provided a curriculum that would keep Hayate and Yugao busy for years.

At the very least, Zhen intended to ensure that Hayate wouldn't be unceremoniously cut down by a man like Baki in the future. As for Yunmi? He felt no shame in learning from his own student. Shame? What's that? Do you have any idea how intoxicating it is to see a massive power spike at my age? I'm having the time of my life. Please, give me a dozen more students like this. High in the canopy, Zhen sat in silent meditation.

He held the Ram seal, his body appearing weightless, swaying in perfect synchronicity with the branches in the wind. Within his chakra pathways, two currents—Wind and Water—flowed simultaneously. They didn't blend; they collided, searching for the frequency of harmony. In the natural world, what substance changes phase most readily? Water.

Under standard pressure, water shifts between its three states with ease: freezing into a solid below zero, or gaining enough kinetic energy to escape as a gas at its boiling point. The Hidden Mist's arsenal was built upon this trinity: Ice Style, Water Style, and the Hidden Mist Technique. But chakra wasn't matter; it was energy that mimicked matter. Attempting to create ice using purely thermal laws was a fool's errand. The physics of the real world were merely a reference point.

The key lay in the oscillation of the chakra itself. Zhen hadn't played around with the Yuki clan "trap" for nothing; he had allowed himself to be frozen twice specifically to record the "signature" of the Ice Release. He was using his peerless control to manually reconstruct that resonance. For ten days, this had been his singular focus. Zhen concentrated with surgical intensity. On one hand, he suppressed the frequency of his Water chakra, forcing it into a state of absolute, stagnant stability.

Simultaneously, he accelerated his Wind chakra, causing it to whip around the water molecules at a violent, cooling velocity. He experimented with the collision points. Then, it happened. At a specific intersection of energies, a sudden, biting chill manifested. It triggered a chain reaction. Like a crystal seed dropped into a supersaturated solution, the cold rippled outward until every drop of his refined chakra had fused into a singular, new element. The release was explosive.

A wave of frost erupted from Zhen's position, instantly claiming the surrounding trees. It was nearly August, the height of the sweltering season in the Land of Fire. Nearby, Hayate and Yugao were in the middle of a sweat-soaked sparring match against their teacher. A sudden, frigid gust swept over them, causing all three to shudder violently. They froze in their tracks, turning to witness a sight that would be seared into their memories forever.

The forest continued to rustle in the heat, but the area around Zhen had fallen into a deathly, glittering silence. Several massive oaks had been transformed into pristine statues of ice. The air hung heavy with a biting mist, as if a piece of the Land of Iron had been dropped into the heart of the forest. Yugao's jaw dropped.

"No way... is that Ice Release? Is Zhen-niisan secretly from the Hidden Mist?" Yunmi shook his head, his voice tinged with awe.

"Impossible. I knew his parents, Jiro and Hui. They were Fire Country through and through. Hui was in the delivery room when he was born; your mother was right there outside the door. Actually, you were there too—just still in your mother's belly."

"But... that's clearly Ice Release." Yunmi thought back to the skirmish ten days prior.

"He fought that Yuki clansman. I think... I think he's been teaching himself ever since that day." Hayate stared at the frozen grove, his voice a mere whisper.

"Is that even possible, Father? To master a Bloodline Limit in just ten days?" Yunmi didn't correct his son's lapse in professional conduct. He just looked at Hayate with a touch of sympathy. Having a friend who was this gifted was a unique kind of psychological torture.

"Hayate... just because we can't do it doesn't mean Zhen can't. He exists on a different plane. In this world, there will always be those who are younger than you, yet vastly more powerful. Zhen is one of them." Hayate lowered his head, his fists clenching at his sides. To him, Zhen was a friend, a rival, and a god-like benchmark. It was a crushing pressure, but it was also the fuel for his own fire. Wait a second... my affinities are Wind and Water too, aren't they? Should I... should I try?

Hayate Gekko fell into a very deep, very dangerous line of thought.