Soon after, Ryusei was back in the southern reaches again, the same day.

On the way there, his thoughts circled around his strength.

He’d just defeated Tsunade, cleanly, decisively, and that said enough.

At this point, he could already classify himself as a Peak Kage-level fighter.

The progress was undeniable.

Still, he didn’t feel like it was time to push things further with her yet.

Haste made waste, and he preferred precision over impatience.

What mattered was that he was on the right track, and it was only a matter of time before he reached exactly where he wanted to be, with her, and in power.

He was satisfied, too, that the spar had fine-tuned his two new abilities.

Testing them against one of the world’s top taijutsu specialists had pushed them from theory into true form.

He was genuinely a bit surprised that she had really managed to open the first two Gates.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t so strange.

Tsunade had the raw physique, chakra control, and medical precision for it; she probably just never took the idea seriously before.

Female bodies were still weaker overall, and mastering the Eight Gates required ridiculous conditioning and pain tolerance.

Ryusei doubted she’d ever reach the advanced ones, but for now, opening two had already given her a decent boost.

Nothing extreme yet, but if she kept going, she’d become much stronger than her original counterpart.

After all, she already had Creation Rebirth and the Yin Seal.

That meant, just like him, the Gates under her body wouldn’t just work; they’d amplify far beyond normal.

Under her control, they’d burn cleaner, heal faster, and last longer than they ever could under someone like Might Duy, who lacked her regeneration and chakra control.

***

A few days later, Ryusei met with Kiyomi again in the southern reaches of the Land of Fire, where she was still stationed against Kirigakure forces with most of her clan.

She was still wearing the same clothes she always preferred, black, form-fitting, with her large clan symbol marked clearly on the back of her outfit.

Still in that striking black, sleeveless top, beneath which hugged her curves and showed off the lean line of her waist, the Konoha plate fixed firmly over her chest.

A pale sash hung over one shoulder, breaking up the dark.

Long, fitted gloves ran up both arms, all sharp lines and kunoichi poise.

Her long hair was dark, cut to fall over one eye, with a faint blue sheen that caught the light whenever she moved.

Silver earrings framed her face, glinting as she turned.

Even now, there was something sharp yet calm about her, that dangerous mix of Uchiha charm and quiet self-assurance.

But this time, she looked brighter, softer.

The old edge in her tone had faded.

Ever since she received her grandfather’s letter six months ago, telling her the clan would no longer interfere in her choices, in between the lines, her demeanor had changed.

She carried herself differently, lighter, and Ryusei could see it immediately.

It didn’t take a genius to know what triggered that shift.

It was the deal he’d made with Fugaku.

When their eyes met, Kiyomi’s expression softened almost instantly.

Her old pride and the signature Uchiha arrogance had thinned out, replaced by something closer to quiet confidence.

When he signaled her to come out again and meet alone, she didn’t even pretend to hesitate.

“Still staring?” she said lightly, catching his gaze before he could look away.

“You look even better when you’re not pretending to be annoyed and offended all the time,” Ryusei replied, half-grinning.

Her lips curved slightly, and for a brief moment, it almost looked like she wanted to say something sentimental, but stopped herself.

She also long understood that it was Ryusei who somehow convinced Fugaku to lead those elders to finally not obstruct them anymore.

Ryusei sighed inwardly.

She was genuinely happy now.

That was good for her, bad for his plans.

The happier she was, the less likely the Mangekyō would ever awaken.

No amount of training or battle could substitute the kind of shock that triggered it.

“It’s probably better this way,” he thought.

“At least she won’t destroy herself chasing power like the rest of them.”

Still, he had prepared an alternative.

They talked a little longer, their usual back-and-forth, teasing and testing each other as always.

Eventually, he leaned back against a rock and looked at her with his usual, quiet smirk.

“You know, you’re still only around peak-jōnin level,” he said, casual but precise. “While I’ve already crossed into peak-Kage territory.”

Her expression instantly changed, pride flashing in her eyes. “You really think I haven’t noticed?”

He smiled faintly. “Just making sure. The gap’s getting bigger, though.”

Her brows twitched. “You’re saying that on purpose.”

“Of course I am. I need you irritated enough to listen properly.”

She frowned, but he could tell she was already hooked.

He continued, voice even. “I’ve been researching your clan’s dōjutsu. The way it awakens, the neural connection between the eyes and the soul. I think I figured something out.”

That caught her attention immediately.

“What do you mean?”

“I think the higher stage of the Sharingan, like the Mangekyō, isn’t just an emotional trigger. They’re the results of deep spiritual shocks. A resonance between the soul and the brain. The eyes are the window of the soul, but the brain is the bridge between the physical and the spiritual. To awaken it, you need both to align violently.”

She crossed her arms, still listening closely. “And you’re saying you can… what, force that alignment?”

“Not force,” Ryusei said calmly. “Simulate it. I’ve developed something similar to partial transmigration. I can enter your soulscape temporarily, stir the link between your soul and your visual system, and amplify the resonance artificially. If it works, your Sharingan might evolve naturally, without trauma or loss.”

Kiyomi stared at him, silent for a few seconds.

“You’re serious,” she finally said, a faint trace of disbelief in her tone.

“Dead serious,” he replied. “I’ve done something similar before. Not on a Uchiha, but the principle’s the same. It’s dangerous, but manageable.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And what happens if it fails?”

“Then nothing changes,” Ryusei said simply. “You’ll wake up tired, maybe disoriented, but alive. No damage. I won’t let it reach the destructive threshold.”

She looked away for a moment, then back at him. “You’re really the only person who’d ever think of something like that.”

He smiled faintly. “That’s why you like me.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no real irritation left.

After a pause, she nodded once. “Fine. Let’s try it.”

Ryusei formed a small seal with his hands, his chakra spreading outward, a faint ripple forming around them.

The air shimmered, and Kiyomi felt the pull immediately, an invisible thread tugging somewhere deep inside her consciousness.

Her breathing slowed as the world around her began to blur, fading into the dim outline of her own inner world, her mindscape, faintly illuminated by her chakra.

Ryusei’s presence appeared beside her, calm and steady, his own soul overlapping with hers like two intersecting flames.

“This is where it begins,” he said quietly.

She gave a sharp nod, the Sharingan already flickering to life in her eyes.

“Don’t hold back,” Ryusei said. “Let it happen naturally. I’ll handle the rest.”

And the ritual began.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep