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Chapter 11 – Six Months of Fire
The days blurred together.
Then the weeks.
Then the months.
Every morning, Kirito returned to the cave. He sat cross-legged on the cold stone, eyes closed, breath steady, drawing chakra into his abdomen. Again and again, it resisted. Again and again, it burst free, leaving him trembling, sweating, and drained.
But he never stopped.
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The first month was failure. Pure, grinding failure.
His clones often complained, their voices echoing off the damp walls.
"You're wasting time," one muttered after yet another collapse.
"You're killing yourself," another argued.
"You're brilliant," a third whispered, "but brilliance is the closest cousin to madness."
Kirito never answered. He simply tried again.
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By the second month, there were sparks of progress. The compressed chakra would hold for seconds instead of heartbeats. His body began to adapt, muscles tensing and veins standing out under the strain.
The seasons changed outside. Rain lashed against the forest canopy. Thunder rolled across the skies. The Cave of Silence remained constant, eternal, sheltering him in its cold embrace.
At night, clones returned from the academy with reports.
"Sensie thinks you're lazy."
Kirito smirked faintly. "Good. Let him think that."
"Graduation's coming soon."
"Then I'll be ready."
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By the third and fourth months, his chakra began to feel different. Denser. Heavier. Each time he compressed it, even if it scattered, it came back sharper. Like forging steel in fire—break, hammer, reform, repeat.
He grew leaner, stronger. His endurance doubled. A normal child would have collapsed weeks ago. Kirito endured.
Sometimes, he laughed to himself. A dry, bitter laugh. "What kind of twelve-year-old does this to himself?"
A clone answered once, with a smirk identical to his own: "The kind who refuses to be ordinary."
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The fifth month was a turning point.
One night, deep in meditation, the knot of chakra in his abdomen didn't scatter. It pulsed. A sphere. Small, unstable, but whole. He nearly wept at the sight of it in his mind's eye.
It collapsed minutes later, but the breakthrough had been made.
After that, every attempt brought him closer. The sphere grew denser, steadier, more liquid-like. He fed it day after day, refining, compressing, pushing himself beyond exhaustion.
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By the sixth month, it was complete.
Kirito sat alone in the cave, sweat dripping, his body trembling with strain. His eyes snapped open, glowing faintly with reflected light from within.
Inside his abdomen, nestled where chakra once flowed freely, now rested a core.
Dense. Stable. Deep blue, glowing faintly like molten honey.
His breath slowed. His pulse steadied. His body felt lighter, sharper, stronger. Even his senses stretched further, his chakra refined by the core's constant purification.
He rose to his feet slowly. The cave floor cracked under his step, his chakra flowing thicker and heavier than before.
He clenched his fist. His C-rank jutsu would now strike like B-rank techniques. His body was tougher, more resilient. And every day, the core would only grow stronger.
A low chuckle escaped him. "It worked. Six months… and it worked."
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That night, as his last academy clone dispelled, memories of classroom chatter filled his mind. Iruka's voice. Mizuki's lectures. The announcement: "Graduation exam—next week."
Kirito stood at the mouth of the cave, the forest spread before him, moonlight painting silver across his face.
"Perfect timing," he whispered. "The old system ends with me. A new one begins now."
His gaze swept the dark trees. Somewhere, hidden deep, he knew Orochimaru had left his marks, his lairs, his secrets. Kirito would find them in time. He would need them.
The Cave of Silence had given birth to his core. The world would soon learn what that meant.
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