The underworld held a natural dominion over the dead. Even one as powerful as Yui Xuanyue could barely resist its pull.
Had he been careless—had his soul left the Edo vessel entirely on that first attempt—he would not still be standing here.
"In this half-detached state, I can barely hold against its pull. If I'd left fully, I wouldn't have lasted a single step. Forget merging with my real body—I'd have been dragged straight into the void."
Xuanyue rubbed his chin, eyes narrowing on the clear, cloudless sky above. He needed a countermeasure. Something to resist the underworld's summons—or to strengthen the soul itself.
But soul techniques… those were another matter.
The shinobi world boasted countless jutsu, yet only a handful dared touch the mysteries of the spirit. Souls were elusive, dangerous to meddle with. In life, Xuanyue had poured his efforts into dissecting chakra, not dabbling recklessly with his essence. He had no intention of becoming another Orochimaru—shredding his spirit until it was unrecognizable, yet somehow still clinging to life.
And so, he had little to draw upon.
The few soul techniques he'd once studied yielded nothing. Each attempt ended the same way: failure. Above him, the rift of the underworld yawned open again, waiting. With a thought, he retreated back into the Edo body and exhaled.
"Useless. The underworld's pull is… absurd. Breaking that boundary between life and death isn't just difficult—it's rigged against us."
The Rinnegan could do it, of course. But that was the eye of gods—Ōtsutsuki relics like the Ten-Tails or Kaguya herself. The dojutsu's resurrection was but one of its miracles.
"If only I were the reincarnation of Asura or Indra. Even with both their remnants in my hands, I can't forge a Rinnegan."
Outside the pure-blooded Ōtsutsuki, only Indra's reincarnations could awaken it—by absorbing Asura's chakra. No random Uchiha splicing Senju cells could cross that threshold. At best, they'd stumble into Wood Release, like Obito.
The Rinnegan was far too distant a dream. He shoved it aside.
By now, the sky had darkened; the air grew colder by ten degrees. Xuanyue sat cross-legged, his Edo body unbothered by fatigue, hunger, or cold. Such trivialities did not exist for him.
"Should I drop my chakra studies and focus entirely on the soul?"
The thought died as soon as it came.
Even if he succeeded, the research would take years—decades, perhaps. Time he did not have. His Edo body would not endure that long. Orochimaru had needed more than ten years to craft Living Corpse Reincarnation. Xuanyue was talented, yes, but not delusional. If brilliance alone were enough, he'd have long since completed his Bloodline Archive project and stood unrivaled.
No. Alone, he would never make it. The only path forward was through others.
He lowered his gaze, thoughtful. "What I need… is a soul technique that ignores distance. Something that lets the spirit slip free, move instantly, and return to its vessel."
Once he could bring his soul into his true body, it would be over. The underworld's grip would be severed.
"Does such a technique exist in this world?"
He searched his memories, sifting through decades of study. Then—suddenly—an image burst in his mind. A flash of blood, white-hot passion.
The name surfaced.
Katō.
He chuckled, half to himself. "That surname… unforgettable."
Back in his previous life, he had read countless works. Among them, the name Katō stood out, lodged in his memory like a splinter—even if the man himself was nothing more than a side character.
Katō Dan. A dreamer who longed for a main character's destiny but died far too soon.
And with him—the Spirit Transformation Technique.
Xuanyue's eyes blazed.
That jutsu allowed the soul to leave the body, slip across any distance, kill, possess, even invade another's mind. An S-rank soul art. The very tool he needed.
"Yes. That's it."
He rose at once, restless energy coursing through his Edo shell. His resurrection depended on it. He had to claim the technique.
But first, a problem.
Dan was long dead. Even if Xuanyue summoned him back with Edo Tensei, the spirit would fight, not teach. And soul techniques weren't things you learned by watching hand signs.
It wasn't like clapping your hands and expecting a giant Buddha to appear.
The Spirit Transformation Technique was classed S-rank not for its power, but its peril. Training it risked tearing the soul apart. That was why it had been sealed away, locked within Konoha's forbidden archives.
Much like the Multi-Shadow Clone Jutsu—seemingly harmless, but for anyone without monstrous reserves of chakra, it was suicide.
Not every shinobi was Namikaze Minato or Uzumaki Naruto.
Still, Xuanyue wasn't worried. Shinobi, by nature, recorded their arts—family scrolls, village archives, anything to keep their legacies alive. Dan would have been no different. Somewhere, in Konoha's vaults or in the Katō clan's records, the Spirit Transformation Technique endured.
And Xuanyue would find it.
(End of Chapter)