Sparring
"Come at me, but you're only allowed to use combat techniques and your Secret Skill. Other Ninjutsu are forbidden."
"Understood, Master. Then, I'm coming!"
"Projection, start."
What a convenient jutsu, Sakumo thought as he calmly drew a kunai.
Shirō's opening move was still to throw Gandiva, following immediately with a close charge.
"Clang!"
Sakumo easily parried Gandiva aside. At the same time, his blade intercepted Mo Xie in Shirō's hand—without striking it away. He was clearly controlling his strength, deliberately gauging Shirō's reactions.
But after his last real combat test, Shirō had already refined his approach. With the experience of countless Heroic Spirits backing him, every fight honed his skill. In this regard, Shirō had a distinct advantage—his growth rate in combat was frightening.
He didn't panic when Sakumo blocked him. Instead, with a flick of his wrist, he hurled Mo Xie into the air, spinning it away, then caught Gandiva as it rebounded, slashing in one fluid motion.
However, the older ginger is always spicier. Facing Shirō's continuous attacks, Sakumo didn't falter. Calm and precise, the White Fang of Konoha sparred with him in an orderly rhythm.
Their silhouettes flickered and clashed across the training ground.
Sakumo wasn't even using his full strength—not even thirty percent. His purpose was simply to test Shirō's limits. That was the only reason the boy could hold his ground.
Through repeated exchanges, Sakumo noticed something interesting: the two blades in Shirō's hands had a strange resonance, almost as if they attracted one another. Shirō relied on that link to perform his combos.
So that's the core of his current style, Sakumo realized. Then let's see what he does without them.
With a sudden burst of speed, Sakumo disarmed Shirō, knocking Mo Xie away with lightning precision. His intent was clear: to test Shirō's adaptability.
"So, what will you do now?"
But Shirō didn't flinch. He had rehearsed this scenario countless times.
"Projection, start."
With a shimmer of white light, a new weapon appeared—a spear. Shirō spun it with practiced ease, forcing even Sakumo to take half a step back in mild surprise.
He can swap to other weapons? Just how much does he know…? Sakumo wondered. Even so, Shirō's core habits hadn't changed. The White Fang quickly adjusted, fighting steadily.
Shirō had deliberately refrained from re-Projecting Mo Xie. Once his combo was broken, that attack pattern had already been read. Repeating it would only weaken its effectiveness. Instead, he shifted into a different style, rotating through lower-grade Noble Phantasms to alter his approach.
Swords, spears, halberds, and short blades—each with a different rhythm, each flowing from projected Heroic Spirit memories. For a time, the variation even suppressed Sakumo's tempo.
But there was a problem. Projection consumed chakra, and Shirō's reserves weren't endless. After five or six rapid swaps, his chakra thinned, and he was forced to abandon weapons for hand-to-hand combat.
Unfortunately, this was where his weakness showed.
Though he trained with Guy and Dai, Shirō wasn't impressed by the "Strong Fist" taijutsu style of the Ninja World. In his eyes, their combat largely relied on raw strength and endurance, with little of the refined technicality seen in the martial arts of Heroic Spirits. Compared to masters like Li Shuwen, the Eight Extremities Fist prodigy whose techniques had been sublimated into Noble Phantasms, the Shinobi's taijutsu felt crude.
Yet Shirō couldn't Project Li Shuwen's "God-Slaying Spear" technique—it was classified as a B-rank Noble Phantasm, beyond his current capacity. The system only allowed him to grasp fragments of Li Shuwen's combat experience, but not the complete Eight Extremities Fist.
Thus, with his alternatives limited, Shirō's taijutsu quickly unraveled against Sakumo's precise blade-work. The White Fang pressed in, overwhelming him until defeat was clear.
Still, Sakumo had seen enough.
"You know many weapons," Sakumo said afterward, sheathing his blade. "But you've only mastered a few. Specialize in one style—if you spread yourself too thin, you'll waste your potential."
"I know," Shirō replied, nodding earnestly. "I've chosen the twin blades I used at the start. The rest are just for support."
"Good. It's important to have a plan." Sakumo's eyes narrowed slightly. "And taijutsu? What are you doing about that?"
"I already have a goal. Right now, I'm refining my physique."
"As expected…" Sakumo gave a faint smile. He's always two steps ahead. My role here is just to guide him.
"Mm. I've roughly understood your situation. Let's stop here for today. I'll draft a training plan for you."
"Yes, Master."
"Then I'll see you tomorrow."
When they parted, Shirō didn't immediately resume training. His chakra was too drained. Instead, he searched through his system's defective database, combing for martial arts-related Noble Phantasms.
But most were conceptual—skills without physical form. What he wanted was a foundational martial art he could build upon. The Eight Extremities Fist manual was listed, but incomplete and impossible to comprehend without proper guidance.
In the end, Shirō could only sigh. His "system" was more like a cracked mirror—it showed him wonders, but rarely in a way he could fully grasp.