Chapter 102: Training the Basics

Chapter 102: Training the Basics

Tetsuya and I were currently walking on our way toward the Land of Earth since we had to go and fulfill the bounty mission, and as we were there, since it was nighttime and the path wasn't the easiest to follow in the dark, we decided to stop under some shade or rather under a tree. 

I took out some tents from my storage seals, since I had basically everything already prepared for situations like this, given that I was a wandering ninja after all. A long time ago, even before I officially defected from the village, I had already started making preparations for this kind of lifestyle.

As we arranged our tents and Tetsuya made the campfire, I asked him, "Why are we even taking a break? Shouldn't we be able to reach there quickly if we keep moving?" 

To that, he replied, "You're forgetting that our main objective isn't just getting the bounty—it's also for you to begin learning spear style." 

I nodded at that, since it made sense, and then I brought up something that had been on my mind and said, "That does make sense, but I don't have a weapon yet."

That's when he casually looked around, snapped off a nearby branch, and said, "I guess this is a good place to start, then." 

He tossed the branch to me and added, "Rule number one—anything is a spear." 

The branch he snapped off for me was exactly the same length as the spear he used. I didn't know how it ended up being the exact length, maybe it was just coincidence, but I didn't feel like doubting it.

"So what are the other rules then?" I asked, curious. He replied calmly, without skipping a beat, "I don't know. I'm making this up as I go."

He then laughed and said, "But don't worry about it too much. Dare I say, in the entire world, I am the best weapon style user in existence."

I didn't let that statement pass without comment. Looking at him, I asked plainly, "What makes you so confident in that? Sure, I haven't met that many weapon style users myself, but you seem oddly confident in your statement."

Tetsuya paused for a moment, not responding right away. Then, without any real change in expression, he stood up and looked toward the sky, even though the canopy of thick leaves above us blocked most of the view. 

We were tucked deep inside the forest, almost like we were sitting in a covered tunnel of trees, but that didn't seem to matter to him as he started speaking again.

"You make a fair statment," he said simply. "That being said, I can confidently tell you that I'm the only weapon style user in the world who has created over fifty original styles. And not only that—I've fully mastered over a hundred."

He turned his head slightly and glanced toward me. His tone stayed calm as he continued, "Don't get the wrong idea. A weapon style isn't the same as a jutsu. Each style, no matter what weapon it's based on, is like its own language. It's a system, a philosophy, and a method of expression that the user builds for themselves. You can't just copy it from someone else. Jutsu, like Fireball Jutsu for example, can be used by anyone with fire chakra. It's standardized. But there's no such thing as a universal spear style or sword technique. Some styles are more common, sure—but even then, they're tailored to match the individual's build, their instincts, the way they move."

He let those words sit for a second before continuing. "Weapon styles are different because they come from within. They're born from how you understand your weapon and how well you can merge it with your own rhythm, your own mindset, your body."

After listening to all of that, I looked at him and asked, "Then why do you know so many styles, Sensei?"

He answered without hesitation. "Because I believe people aren't fixed. We're always changing, adapting, learning, and adjusting. If I decided on one style and stuck with it forever, that would mean I thought I had reached perfection. That there was nothing left in me to evolve. But I'm not perfect. No one is. At least, that's how I see it. And that way of thinking—it's what shaped how I developed my styles."

He paused briefly again, this time not looking at me, and then added, "My current strongest usable technique is called Spear of the Last Dawn."

The moment he said that, I immediately recalled the move he had used on me during our fight. The power and intensity behind it were impossible to forget.

He must've noticed the recognition on my face, because he said, "I'm glad you remembered all the names I called out. Usually, I don't shout out the names of my techniques during battle. But when I realized you might become a disciple, I made an exception. I wanted you to hear everything I used, even if we were in a life-and-death situation."

And as I thought back on that fight, I couldn't help but admit to myself that it actually made sense. I had been confused at the time, wondering why he kept announcing each attack like he was performing for an audience—but now, with what he just told me, I understood. 

Even back then, when we were fighting seriously, he had already begun training me.

"So what do you plan on teaching me?" I asked him, to which he responded, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? You don't even know how to use a spear yet. Basically, we're going to have to start from the absolute basics—thrusting, moving while holding the spear, footwork and positioning, that sort of thing. And then we'll also have to talk about how you're planning to incorporate jutsu into your fighting style. I assume you're going to use them, right?"

I nodded in response, and he continued, "Which makes sense. You were born and trained as a ninja. While I'm also a ninja, your path is based on elemental ninjutsu, not weapon styles. You don't need to abandon your roots or change everything about yourself just because the way I fight is different. My job, as your sensei, is to guide you—not to dictate your path or force you to follow mine. Whatever direction you want to go, I'll try to help you reach your best potential."

There was a moment of silence as I thought about what he said, but I couldn't help but remember something from earlier, so I asked, "Sensei when we first fought, you said our life-and-death duel was the first test… what's the second test?"

He didn't seem to need time to think about it. Without much pause, he replied, "I don't know, to be honest. No one's ever passed the first test."

Then he stopped for a moment, as if reconsidering, and said, "Well… I guess the second test can be this—if you don't create your own weapon style within the next year, I'll kill you."

I started laughing at the absurdity of the statement, but when I made eye contact with him and saw that he wasn't smiling at all, I slowly stopped.

He was completely serious… right… kill me.

"Right, okay then," I said, and then continued, "Since I have about three days with you—my main body, I mean—after that, I'm going to have to leave."

I was referring to the other project I had mentioned to him earlier.

He nodded and replied, "Right, the one you've been so secretive about, the one you still haven't told me anything about. So be it then."

Then, after a brief pause, he added, "If your main body is going to be here, and you're able to spread out your chakra without needing to conserve it too much, then I want you to create as many shadow clones as you possibly can. You won't be using chakra for jutsu during this time, you're only going to be holding and swinging a spear, so I want the maximum number you can manage."

I nodded at that, and to be completely honest, I had never actually attempted to summon the maximum number of shadow clones I could produce. Most shinobi stop at around 99% mastery of the technique, which is already considered an elite level, but I had long since fully mastered it—100%—because I am a player, part of a game system, and I had trained it completely using the experience point system, not traditional methods. On top of that, I also had relatively high chakra control, and considering my chakra reserves and the fact that I held the rank of an elite jonin, I expected to be able to produce a fairly substantial amount.

I performed the hand signs for [Shadow Clone Jutsu], and after a series of brief puffs filling the area around us, a total of three hundred shadow clones appeared.

Compared to Naruto, that number was small, but for anyone else, it was undeniably a large amount.

Tetsuya didn't say anything at first. He walked slowly in front of the line of clones, glancing from one to the next without expression, like he was checking tools instead of people. Every single clone, including myself, held a branch about the same size as the one he'd thrown to me earlier. I'd made sure they all grabbed their own from the surrounding forest—roughly equal length, thickness, and weight. Nothing fancy. Just enough to get the job done.

"First thing," he said, finally stopping near me. "You're holding it wrong."

He adjusted the position of my hands—top hand slightly looser, lower hand closer to the end, elbows not too stiff. Then he turned his attention to the nearest clone and nudged the stance into something more stable.

"Top hand steers," he said. "Bottom hand drives. You're not swinging a bat. The weapon's not for hacking. Keep it lined up with your center."

He stepped back and nodded. We all shifted slightly at the same time, fixing our grip and adjusting our posture. It wasn't perfect, but no one tripped over themselves either.

"Thrust forward," he said, taking a step and driving his branch out with minimal motion. "Straight. Controlled. No twisting. Keep your front arm moving first. Let your back leg trail slightly with the motion."

We followed. Hundreds of branches shot forward in a forest of movement, not perfectly timed, but close enough to keep it from looking chaotic.

"Again," he said, then paused briefly as we reset and repeated the motion. "You're still leading too much with your shoulders. Let your hips shift with it, otherwise you're going to telegraph every move you make."

He walked between clones, occasionally flicking a hand at someone's ankle or pushing a stance slightly wider. 

Each adjustment felt more like being put into the correct shape than being taught. We mirrored what he demonstrated, trying to match his movements. 

"Don't lock your arms," he said as he tapped on a few wrists. "You're guiding the point, not holding a wall."

We kept moving in rhythm. Thrust, recover, reposition. Branches moved through the air in the quiet night, the sound of feet shifting against soil and loose leaves making up most of the background.

Tetsuya glanced around and gave a small nod. "Alright. Move on."

He shifted his weight and started demonstrating footwork—short slides, careful pivots, and subtle shifts in weight that allowed the spear to stay centered while the body moved around it.

"Staying still gets you killed. But if you move too much, you lose your control. Everything should stay under you—don't stretch your steps out unless you know what you're reaching for."

He didn't slow down to explain further. We followed by watching. Dozens of clones tried matching his pace, adjusting step by step, correcting posture by feel. I didn't ask questions. I just watched, moved, and repeated.

…

Authors note:

You can read some chapters ahead if you want to on my p#treon.com/Fat_Cultivator