Chapter 7: Testing the Waters
Chapter 7: Testing the Waters
Chiyo wasted no time.
The moment I reoriented myself, she was on her feet, throwing me a kunai. I caught it awkwardly, almost slicing my palm in the process. My muscles were still sluggish from the genjutsu training, my mind a tangled mess of realizations.
"Enough with illusions," Chiyo snapped. "Time to see if you've got anything worth teaching in the real world."
I gripped the kunai, feeling the cold, unforgiving steel against my skin. It was heavier than I expected, a weight that reminded me this wasn't just training anymore. This was survival.
Chiyo's eyes narrowed as she circled me like a hawk sizing up prey. "Think fast, brat. Your illusions are worthless if you can't handle real combat."
Step 1: Assess the Threat
I glanced around the small training ground, taking stock of my surroundings. No obvious traps, no hidden weapons—just me, Chiyo, and a whole lot of empty space.
But that was the problem.
Empty space meant no cover. No cover meant nowhere to run.
I needed a plan.
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[Ranking Criteria: "What's the most effective way to survive Chiyo's combat test?"]
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1. Use the kunai to create distance (90.1%) – Keep her away, force her to overextend.
2. Rely on genjutsu (85.7%) – Risky; she knows how to counter it.
3. Evade and observe (88.4%) – Learn her patterns, strike only when necessary.
4. Rush in and overwhelm (65.3%) – Only works if I want to die quickly.
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Creating distance was my best shot. If I could force her to chase me, I could buy time to analyze her movements.
I backed away slowly, kunai held in front of me. Chiyo's eyes gleamed, catching the light like a predator.
She lunged without warning, a blur of motion that my eyes barely tracked. I stumbled backward, narrowly dodging the swipe of her hand. She wasn't even using a weapon—just her bare hands—and it was terrifying how much deadlier that made her seem.
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Step 2: Control the Pace
She pressed the attack, her movements precise, economical—nothing wasted. Each strike forced me to retreat, my back nearly slamming into the wooden posts that lined the training ground.
Think, damn it.
I needed to disrupt her rhythm. Make her hesitate.
My grip on the kunai tightened as I feigned a stumble, letting my foot drag through the dirt. Her eyes flicked down, just for a split second—but it was enough.
I threw the kunai at her feet, kicking up a small cloud of dust and dirt.
She paused, just as I'd hoped.
Now!
I darted to the side, keeping low, putting as much distance as I could between us. The sword of will had taught me the importance of mental control, but out here, it was all about managing the physical battlefield.
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[Ranking Criteria: "What's Chiyo's biggest weakness in combat?"]
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1. Overconfidence (91.2%) – Assumes superiority, prone to underestimating.
2. Limited mobility due to age (87.5%) – Faster than most, but not invincible.
3. Tendency to test instead of finish (85.3%) – She toys with opponents.
4. Predictable counters (80.4%) – Experienced but set in her ways.
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Her overconfidence was my window. As long as she thought of this as a test, she'd hold back just enough for me to find an opening.
I circled around, using the debris and training dummies as makeshift obstacles. Her eyes followed me, but she didn't move immediately—she was gauging me, measuring my response.
"Running won't save you," she called out, her voice cold and clipped.
I grinned, the expression feeling foreign but satisfying. "I'm not running. I'm just redecorating."
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Step 3: Turn the Tables
My eyes darted to a pile of training tools nearby—shuriken, a staff, even a handful of smoke bombs.
Perfect.
I grabbed a handful of shuriken, flinging them toward her with as much strength as my tiny arms could muster. They weren't going to hit—that wasn't the point.
She swatted them aside effortlessly, but the split-second distraction was all I needed.
I activated a basic genjutsu, a simple distortion to make it appear like I was running left when I was actually darting right. It wasn't much, but for an instant, she hesitated, her eyes following the illusion.
And then—
I struck from behind, slamming the blunt end of a training staff against the back of her knees. She staggered, not out of pain, but surprise.
Her head whipped around, eyes blazing. "Clever."
I tried to press the advantage, swinging the staff at her torso, but she caught it effortlessly, yanking me off my feet and sending me sprawling into the dirt.
I barely managed to roll away as her foot crashed down where my head had been a second ago.
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Step 4: Accept the Beating (With Dignity)
For every hit I dodged, three more found their mark. Bruises bloomed across my arms and legs, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Still, I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing me quit.
Finally, she stepped back, arms crossed. "Not bad, Ethan. But remember—strategy means nothing if you lack execution."
I pulled myself up, dirt caking my hands, my legs trembling. "Yeah, well, execution's harder when you're the size of a sandbag."
She snorted, a rare break in her stoic demeanor. "Your size is irrelevant. What matters is your ability to think under pressure."
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to ignore the sting of freshly-formed bruises. "So, how'd I do?"
Her gaze was unreadable, but I caught the faintest hint of approval. "You've got potential. But potential means nothing without action."
I nodded, suppressing a grin. Despite the pain, despite the bruises, this felt like progress. I was no hero, no destined warrior, but I was a survivor.
And if this was the price for strength, then so be it. I'd pay it—and more.
Because in this world, it wasn't about being the strongest. It was about being smart enough to stay alive.
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End of Chapter 7.