Chapter 2: The Clan's Test
The sun had barely begun to climb over the jagged peaks when I was already on my feet, muscles tense and ready. Life in the Steel Bloodline Clan was relentless, and there was no room for hesitation—not if I wanted to survive, not if I wanted to excel.
Today, the elders had prepared a test—a trial of strength, precision, and cunning. Every child in the clan would be pushed to their limits, and failure was not an option. I had watched my peers struggle silently during practice, some falling to exhaustion, others trembling under the weight of their own expectations. But I had something they didn't: the knowledge of what was coming. The mechanics of chakra, the principles behind ninjutsu, and strategies honed in a world centuries beyond this one.
The test began with a simple task: strike the iron targets with chakra-infused weapons while avoiding traps laid across the training ground. Most of the children faltered immediately, misjudging distance or overextending their chakra, causing sparks to ricochet dangerously.
I, however, focused. My fingers tingled as I centered my chakra, imagining it flowing like a current through my body into the weapon I held. It wasn't magic—it was physics, applied to chakra. Every strike landed perfectly. Every movement conserved energy. I moved faster, lighter, and more precise than anyone else.
The elders' eyes narrowed. I could feel their suspicion. Too efficient, too precise, too… unlike a normal child. I had to be careful. I could show skill, but not mastery of knowledge from the future.
Next came the combat trial. Two children were paired in sparring matches, and I was set against a boy named Tetsuo. His family was minor but well-respected, known for their ferocity in battle. He charged at me with a metal blade infused with chakra, eyes blazing. I sidestepped easily, letting him overcommit, then tapped a precise chakra pulse into the ground beneath him, sending a small shockwave that knocked him off balance.
He stumbled, glaring at me. "Cheater," he spat, panting. "This isn't fair."
I smirked, suppressing the urge to say, You have no idea what's coming. Instead, I helped him to his feet. "Fair enough," I said. "Try again."
The final part of the test was the riddle of the mind, a tradition of the Steel Bloodline designed to measure intellect and tactical thinking. I was given a scenario: a rival clan ambushes the village, and I had to devise a strategy to protect the key positions using only the tools available in the training yard.
Most children froze. I drafted three plans in seconds. A simple trap using weighted nets and chakra-infused wires. A diversion with smoke and mirrors of chakra light. And a contingency where the defenders could retreat safely if outnumbered.
The elders whispered among themselves, clearly impressed. But I smiled inwardly. This was just the beginning.
Later, while sitting atop the stone wall to catch my breath, I let my thoughts drift to the larger world beyond our mountains. I knew the Uchiha and Senju clans were beginning to rise, already embroiled in blood feuds that would shape history. I had to position myself, and the Steel Bloodline, carefully. Too much interference, and I risked altering history. Too little, and we could be wiped out.
A cool wind brushed my face, carrying the scent of iron and pine. I clenched my fists. This clan, this era, this world—it was mine to navigate. My training was not just survival; it was preparation for the chaos to come.
And I would be ready.