"Wind and water form ice—but that's not the true Ice Dun. The real deal doesn't rely on tricks. It's about forcing water to turn into ice directly. As long as there's water, ice can exist."
Ever since he'd discovered Ice Dun, Raizen—still called Douren during training—had been obsessively chasing its secret.
"If you want to conjure ice out of nothing," he muttered, "you need hand seals to pull moisture from the air. And to actually turn water into ice… you need wind. Wind acting on water gives birth to Ice Dun."
He traced the seals again and again, letting chakra flow through his hands like a coder debugging spaghetti logic in a legacy system.
"Bing Dun… Ice Shuriken!"
With a flick of his hand, dozens of razor-sharp ice cubes condensed in midair, spinning and shooting forward like poisoned needles.
"Bing Dun… Ice Fang!"
Before the first attack even landed, Raizen had already formed the next jutsu. The ground in front of him twisted upward, jagged ice spears thrusting toward the horizon.
"Bing Dun… Thousand Killing Water Spears!"
He leapt to the edge of the lake, closing his eyes to feel the dance of wind and water around him. A low growl escaped his throat. The water beneath his feet erupted into shards, each spinning toward the spot he'd just occupied.
"Huh… not bad," Raizen muttered, eyes glinting. Three ice techniques down—the simplest he could manage for now. Anything more advanced? Beyond him at this stage.
"Douren!"
A shout broke him from his thoughts. Turning, he saw a boy no older than eleven or twelve barreling toward him, panting like a winded dog.
"What is it now? Tea time's over?" Raizen quipped, narrowing his eyes.
The boy skidded to a halt a few meters away. "Big Brother Tian said to tell you… the family meeting's about to start!"
Raizen groaned inwardly. "Meeting? Figures. Fine, we'll head back."
He cleaned the training ground, following Takumi back to the Amamiya residence. When he arrived, the meeting was already underway. Summoned or not, he had no choice but to join.
Stepping into the room, chatter died instantly. Patriarch Amamiya Gen waved him over. With a sigh, Raizen slid into the seat beside him. Other clan ninjas stole glances, suspicion flickering across their eyes, but said nothing.
"The clan has slowly regained its strength over the recovery period," Gen began, voice calm but firm. "Mission volume can now increase."
Kuze, tasked with assignments, stood. "Understood, Patriarch. We'll restore prior mission levels. Clan ninjas will resume regular missions starting today. Each month, a quota must be met."
Gen nodded, then seemed to recall something else. "Training must accelerate. To prepare the next generation, every senior will take on three new recruits from the clan."
"Yes!"
The room murmured assent. That was the bulk of the meeting. Raizen said nothing, understanding the true purpose: the Patriarch wanted him under the eyes of every clan ninja, a subtle preparation for his next level of training.
Three or four months had passed since Raizen and Tian returned from the Uchiha coalition. After heavy losses, the Amamiya clan had finally restored its structure and begun taking on missions again. For now, at least, they had survived the crisis.