Hoshiyomi had been considering this for a long time. For someone like him, whose growth depended on mastering the sword, the next step was clear.
In the entire shinobi world, there was only one place where swordsmanship was truly revered and practiced as an art: the Land of Iron.
A country without ninjutsu or shinobi—home only to samurai and swords. In the Land of Iron, everyone trained in the sword. Some warriors there, though completely untrained in ninjutsu, could still unleash strength rivaling that of elite jōnin.
Hoshiyomi had always believed that if he could spend a few years training there, his skills would skyrocket.
But due to his earlier limitations—and the chaos of the war—he had always held back. Even if he went, he feared he'd learn nothing… or worse, get killed on the road by some passing shinobi squad.
That's why he'd never mentioned his desire to anyone.
But now, things were different. He was strong enough. The war was over. The roads were finally safe. As long as he didn't go out of his way to offend someone, it was unlikely he'd run into hostile ninja patrols.
And besides, with Terrifying Death Limit still cutting off his chakra, this gave him the perfect excuse to travel and train his body elsewhere.
———
Hoshiyomi's declaration took the others by surprise—but only for a moment. In truth, they all understood. For someone so devoted to the sword, making a pilgrimage to the Land of Iron was inevitable.
Sakumo looked at Hoshiyomi, his expression complex. In that moment, he realized why he could never surpass Hoshiyomi in swordsmanship.
It was their belief.
Sakumo sought greater power. He wanted to become a stronger shinobi. But Hoshiyomi… Hoshiyomi chased the ultimate expression of the sword itself.
Even the famed blade White Fang, a weapon without equal, was—at least to Sakumo—merely a tool to complete missions. The same was true of swordsmanship.
Sakumo didn't train with the blade to become a great swordsman. He did it to kill—faster, cleaner, more efficiently. Nothing more.
When his sword skill hit a wall, he didn't seek deeper mastery. He turned instead to chakra—augmenting his blade with ninjutsu.
His developing fusion of Lightning Release chakra and swordsmanship was already something else entirely. It was closer to nintaijutsu than true swordsmanship.
He still used White Fang, but the technique had returned to the realm of shinobi arts.
But Hoshiyomi was different.
In him, Sakumo saw the relentless pursuit of the sword's true meaning. A pure, unwavering intent—what some might call Sword Heart.
They had never been walking the same path.
Sakumo wanted to be the strongest shinobi.
Hoshiyomi wanted to become a Sword Saint.
Their goals were fundamentally different. And they'd grown up together. So why had he always used Hoshiyomi's progress as a whip to drive himself forward?
To grit his teeth behind his friend's back—that wasn't what a friend should be.
A real friend should celebrate your progress, strive to match you in their own way, and stand beside you when you stumble—not burn with jealousy.
And with that thought, Sakumo suddenly felt a weight lift from his chest.
He broke into a grin, raised his cup, and toasted:
"To the Land of Iron. Hope you come back stronger—and better yet, finally shake off that cursed mark!"
If Hoshiyomi had known what was going through Sakumo's mind, he probably would've laughed and said, you're overthinking it. But since he wasn't a mind-reader, he simply blinked… and clinked his cup to Sakumo's with a smile.
With the clear chime of two cups meeting, the invisible wall between them melted away.
———
After that farewell dinner at the barbecue shop, Hoshiyomi began preparing in earnest for his journey.
Two more months passed. During that time, he trained harder than ever.
Now, even carrying 500 pounds of weights, he could move at full speed, just like before. He even asked Tsunade to help test his speed and agility.
And the results were promising. Even under full load, he could keep up with Tsunade through the dense terrain of the forest—proof that his first stage of weighted training had worked.
Though Terrifying Death Limit still prevented him from unlocking even the early gates of the Eight Inner Gates, he'd developed a good feel for his physical limits.
By his estimate, he could now safely open the first three gates.
The first three belonged to what might be called the "safe zone"—they were reachable with consistent training. Many taijutsu users could access them with enough effort.
But from the fourth gate onward, it became dangerous.
Right now, Hoshiyomi could probably force open the fourth gate if he removed all his weights and brute-forced it.
But doing so would deal serious damage to his body. And he wasn't about to gamble his life on that.
Based on Rock Lee's progression in the original timeline, Hoshiyomi figured it would take another six months of training to reliably open the fourth gate.
The fifth and sixth? Much harder. That would take years of accumulation.
His own goal was clear: open up to the sixth gate—no further.
The seventh and eighth weren't part of his plan. One, because the physical cost was too great. Two, because it wasn't necessary.
He was, after all, a swordsman first and foremost. He couldn't afford to pour all his effort into taijutsu.
For him, the sixth gate was enough. Enough to break through Terrifying Death Limit. Enough to give him a powerful trump card.
Trying to force his way beyond that wasn't worth it.
Now that his training was on track, and his strength under weighted conditions was roughly 70% of his full power, Hoshiyomi felt the time had come.
He would leave for the Land of Iron.
He planned to spend several years there, honing his blade, and wouldn't return to Konoha until he could open the sixth gate—and challenge Terrifying Death Limit head-on.
Those around him were reluctant to see him go, but they offered full support.
Tsunade and the others even threw him a huge sendoff banquet, promising to await his return in the years to come.
The Third Hokage personally wrote Hoshiyomi a handwritten letter—a diplomatic guarantee. If Hoshiyomi ever ran afoul of any powerful figures in the Land of Iron, he was to present that letter directly to the country's leadership.
The letter, signed by the Hokage himself, would earn Hoshiyomi enough favor to keep him safe.
Seriously… Sarutobi Hiruzen was the original Shanks.
And so, after bidding farewell to his friends, Hoshiyomi packed his gear.
At sunrise, he left the village gates—Lobo at his side—his eyes set toward a new future.
Destination: the Land of Iron.
PS: Read Advance Chapters at https://www.patreon.com/c/ReadJin