"The Art of Shadow Clone!"
Several days later, on a rare school holiday, Xia Ji had adjusted his condition to its peak. Sitting cross-legged, he formed the sequence of eight standard hand seals with practiced precision.
With a soft poof, a cloud of white smoke bloomed beside him—then cleared to reveal… another Xia Ji.
"Hello, Ontology," the clone greeted with a faint smile.
"Well, hello," the original replied, finally letting out the breath he'd been holding. His senses confirmed what his eyes saw—the clone was stable, and the chakra drain wasn't too severe.
From the feel of it, he could probably create up to three clones at once.
But that was only if they were created with the bare minimum chakra. And that… came with problems. A clone formed with too little chakra could barely perform even the simplest ninjutsu. In fact, the moment it tried, it would collapse instantly from chakra deficiency. Worse still, splitting his chakra like that meant the original would have even less for himself—making actual combat nearly impossible.
Still, even knowing these limitations, Xia Ji couldn't hide his awe. This was one of the most famous techniques in Konoha—one that demanded a high chakra capacity to use effectively. Even though he'd already learned the basics, he had waited until he was in the best possible state before attempting it again. A single mistake here wasn't just embarrassing—it could be dangerous.
If his chakra control slipped, he could end up dizzy at best… or unconscious at worst.
But according to his recent study, his reserves should be enough. After all, even chunin in the original story could use the Shadow Clone Technique without collapsing afterward. He didn't have the same reserves as a chunin, but Iruka had once said his maximum chakra extraction in a single draw was about equal to theirs.
Besides, most chunin didn't store up chakra in advance—they extracted and used it on the spot. So if they could make a single clone without issue, he should be fine doing the same.
Still… there was never such a thing as "zero risk." That's why he had chosen a holiday, giving himself time to rest and adjust before making his attempt. And, judging from the results, he had chosen well.
Xia Ji gave his clone a nod. A moment later, the clone vanished in a puff of smoke.
He frowned.
He had originally intended to keep the clone around to finish some chores before dispelling it—not to overwork it, but to run a small experiment. Yet the moment he nodded, he had dismissed it almost by instinct.
Still, the test wasn't for nothing. He'd confirmed that a clone retained only the thoughts and intentions the original had at the moment of creation. After that, their minds diverged, acting independently. While a clone could sometimes guess what the original was thinking—after all, they shared the same mind at the start—it wasn't guaranteed.
The chakra the clone had been given returned to him, though slightly less than what he had put in. A small portion always seemed to dissipate upon dispelling, likely lost due to distance or natural inefficiency. It was nothing alarming, though—especially since he never intended to send clones far away.
But this raised an interesting question. If a clone exhausted all its chakra, would the memories it carried fail to return as well? After all, memories didn't just appear out of nowhere—they needed chakra as a carrier to transfer back to the original.
He thought it through and suddenly understood. Shadow clones were physical clones, made from chakra—which was a fusion of physical and spiritual energy. The physical aspect formed the body, while the mental aspect carried thought. Upon dispelling, these energies recombined into chakra, carrying the memories back.
So, even if a clone used up all the chakra it could actively spend, the energy maintaining its physical form would still exist until dispelling—allowing the memories to return.
Unless… a clone was trapped somewhere chakra couldn't pass through. In that case, would the memory simply be lost? He shook his head. Interesting, but impractical. First, who could even create a space where chakra couldn't transmit? And second, even if they could, the clone would likely sense danger and dispel itself before that happened.
Pushing the thought aside, Xia Ji decided it was time for the real test. Drawing out the rest of his chakra, he formed the eight seals again—this time without compressing anything for efficiency. He wasn't aiming for combat use; he just wanted maximum stability.
"The Art of Shadow Clone!"
A second clone appeared instantly and, without needing instructions, took a seat at the desk. It opened a stack of textbooks and ninjutsu scrolls that Sinna had prepared for him earlier and began reading.
As for the original, he stayed idle—on purpose. He needed to measure the clone's lifespan and gauge the fatigue that would rebound when it dispelled. Physical exertion on his own part would only interfere with the results.
Still, sitting around with nothing to do felt odd. After a moment, he began lightly tidying up the room—tasks that didn't require much strength.
An hour passed. The clone was still there. That alone surprised him. Even without using jutsu, simply existing consumed chakra—but apparently, the passive drain wasn't that high.
After a while, the clone looked up from its scroll. "Body, get ready."
Xia Ji sat down on his bed. Moments later, the clone's chakra finally ran out, and it burst into smoke.
The backlash hit instantly. Memories and fatigue slammed into him like a tidal wave. His vision dimmed for a second before he steadied himself.
"…Naruto Uzumaki really is a monster," he muttered under his breath.
Now he understood why no one but Naruto dared to train or study with dozens—let alone hundreds—of clones. Even most Uzumaki with their famously vast chakra reserves wouldn't dare go beyond one or two.
The problem wasn't creating them—it was enduring the flood of accumulated fatigue afterward. It was like… lifting two dumbbells for two hours versus lifting hundreds all at once. Same work done, same effect—but could you survive the second option without collapsing?
No wonder Naruto could master techniques like the Rasengan in record time. His body was simply on a different level. Anyone else would need at least six times the durability to handle what he did casually.
For now, Xia Ji was fine. The clone had only been studying, so most of the fatigue was mental. Physical exhaustion was minimal—well within what he could handle.
And that was exactly why he'd pursued this technique in the first place. Mental endurance was his one true advantage. Even if his chakra couldn't support more than one or two clones, he could still use them for study—and make the most of that ability.
His eyes gleamed. This attempt had been almost perfect. Step one of his plan for shadow clones was a complete success.
Now for step two.
Unfortunately, his chakra was already drained. He'd have to wait before attempting it.
After all… ration pills weren't cheap.
—End of Chapter—