A new future!
Sure enough, beside the urn marked with the scarred forehead protector of "Rogue Kiyohara," a ripple shimmered into view.
From the distortion emerged a second urn—this one entirely dark-metallic in color, its lid engraved with the symbol of a katana.
"A katana…?"
The image that popped into Kiyohara's mind was of a masked swordsman hero.He shook it off and reached out mentally, knocking on the box with a thought.
"You there?"
He asked hesitantly.
Even if it was another version of himself, their personalities might differ wildly due to worldlines, experiences, and time of death.
"So… I really died after all."
A hazy figure slowly emerged from the new urn.
This spirit looked to be in his early twenties—tall and upright like a pine.
His face resembled Kiyohara by about 70-80%, but it was sharper, more refined.There was a hardened intensity in his gaze, as though no hardship could shake him.
"You must be my past self."
The new Kiyohara quickly assessed the situation and understood he'd been delivered via the "Will System."
"Yeah. I'm the past you. Were you… trained in swordsmanship?"
Kiyohara asked curiously.
In the shinobi world, swords and blades weren't strictly distinguished.You could call it either kenjutsu or tōjutsu, and no one would correct you.
"You could say that."
The future Kiyohara nodded.
"Since civilian shinobi are naturally low on chakra, I apprenticed under Maruboshi Kosuke and studied Konoha-ryū Sword Style: Willow."
His voice rang clear—like metal striking stone—very different from the weary tone of Rogue Kiyohara.
"I died at the hands of a Mist ninja—Ao.His Byakugan could perfectly track my muscle movements. It was nearly impossible to land a hit."
"I see…"
Kiyohara listened quietly as his future self gave a calm self-introduction.
From the details, he could tell this future version hadn't had a huge chakra pool either.So instead of trying to brute-force things, he'd mastered swordsmanship to make the most of what he had.
Although kenjutsu techniques also required chakra, they leaned far more on technique than raw energy.
"So, what's your will?"
It wasn't a version with a bloodline limit, which was a bit of a letdown—But if he could inherit this man's swordsmanship, it was still a major gain.
After all, once chakra was exhausted in battle, what remained was only the blade and the body.
And don't be fooled by Maruboshi Kosuke's rank as an eternal genin—He simply refused promotions. His strength easily exceeded many jōnin.
If this version of him had trained under such a teacher, he likely held a wealth of valuable knowledge—Just what this version of Kiyohara needed most.
"I have two last wishes," said the swordsman Kiyohara.
"First, avenge me."
Of course. He'd been killed—he wanted revenge.
"Mist ninja Ao, huh? Alright. I'll take care of it."
Kiyohara nodded.
This was the younger Ao, after all—he hadn't yet stolen a Byakugan and was still just a regular shinobi.
Taking him out would be a reasonable challenge.
"And the second?"
The swordsman Kiyohara said:
"I want you to forge a sword that perfectly channels chakra and amplifies kenjutsu.One of the biggest reasons I lost… was because my blade broke."
"…I see."
Kiyohara nodded thoughtfully.
This was doable.
Compared to Rogue Kiyohara's will—which required surviving Kannabi Bridge and making chūnin—This was far easier.
He already had the chakra metal. He just needed to scrape together the money and find a good blacksmith.
And as for Ao? Still just a civilian-class Mist shinobi right now.
Back in the original timeline, he became famous largely for being the first person to successfully transplant a Byakugan.
But that was still a long way off.
If everything went smoothly, he might finish this new will within a month.
And when Mist finally launched their next attack, he'd be ready.
'If I clear this fast, I'll fuse with more futures faster too…'
Kiyohara's eyes lit up with anticipation.
Maybe next time, he'd pull a version of himself with a bloodline limit?
A small goal first: complete this within the next month or two.
Worst-case, he could always let this sword-user take over his body.
In fact, this version might even surpass the rogue-nin in effectiveness,because his edge came from skill, not power.
"But… my past self, your body is far too weak."
The swordsman spirit floated beside him, frowning critically.
"Imagine you're in a drawn-out battle and run out of chakra… or face someone who can drain it.What will you rely on?Only a body forged through relentless training… and refined combat instinct."
Faced with such a cold and demanding "future self," Kiyohara could only gather himself and answer seriously:
"I understand. So, how do we start?"
"Swordsmanship begins with grip, footwork, and proper force.First, find something suitable to simulate a sword and begin with basic swings, slashes, chops, and thrusts."
Kiyohara scanned the nearby streambank and quickly found a smooth, sturdy branch—just the right length and weight.
He picked it up and was about to trim it with a kunai—
"Wrong."
The swordsman's calm voice rang out.
He raised his phantom arm and pointed toward the grass.
There, half-concealed in the brush, lay a black-gray stone rod, nearly 1.5 meters long, as thick as two fists, heavy enough that it would take both arms to lift.
"Use that. Heavy is better."
"...You're serious?"
Kiyohara blinked, stunned.
That wasn't a training weapon. That was something you'd use to build a foundation—literally.
His mind instantly conjured an image of a one-armed martial artist wielding a black iron sword, with a giant bird companion...
But unlike that legendary figure, he had two arms—and no bird.
"When you train with something this heavy day after day…Your muscles will memorize how to move it properly.When the time comes to wield a real sword, it will feel light as air."
This future self clearly had far more patience and discipline.
And after thinking it through, Kiyohara found it made sense.
After all, even Rock Lee trained like this—wearing heavy ankle weights for years.
Over the next few days, Kiyohara split his time between patrols, supply runs, and occasional Wind Style: Gale Palm practice.
The rest of the time?
He'd carry that absurdly large stone club to a flat spot on the edge of camp,where he followed his future self's strict guidance in "basic sword training."
"Kiyohara… are you… practicing new taijutsu?"
Rin Nohara had noticed.
She looked at him, puzzled, eyes lingering on the massive black stone he kept swinging around.
"Yeah. That's right."
Kiyohara nodded calmly.
Every time he lifted that heavy slab, its massive shadow passed across Rin's face.
Don't misunderstand.
That was just the sunlight casting his shadow.