Renkai stood in line with the other children, eyes sharp, body still and composed.

The Academy entrance exam wasn’t anything special. It was mostly a formality—a way to weed out the weakest before actual training began.

For most children, this would be the beginning of their journey. The first steps toward becoming shinobi.

For Renkai, it was something else entirely.

This is my first step toward power. Toward understanding this world’s rules.

The moment he learned about the Shinobi Academy, he knew it was his best option. He needed to be here. Not because he wanted to be a soldier for this village. Not because he felt any loyalty to Konoha. But because this was where knowledge and resources were concentrated.

And if he wanted power, he had to play the system first.

The exam was laughably simple for someone like him.

It was divided into three sections, Basic Physical Test – Running, jumping, and endurance.

Shuriken and Kunai Accuracy Test – Straightforward throwing exercises. Chakra Sensitivity Test – A brief measurement of raw chakra control.

The instructor called out his name.

"Renkai!"

He stepped forward, mentally bracing himself.

His body was still weak. Weeks of barely eating properly had improved his condition slightly, but his muscles were still underdeveloped compared to the other kids. He was faster than the malnourished orphans, but he was still far from the naturally athletic clan children.

So, he adjusted.

He didn’t focus on speed or power. Instead, he maximized efficiency—shorter movements, more controlled breathing.

By the end, his performance was average.

But average was acceptable.

For now.

A proctor led him to a wooden target stand, kunai and shuriken arranged neatly on the table.

Renkai’s eyes narrowed.

He knew projectiles. He had spent weeks training with thrown weapons in secret.

He picked up the first kunai, letting his fingers adjust to the weight.

He felt the air. Calculated the wind. Measured the distance.

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And threw.

The kunai pierced the center of the target.

A flicker of satisfaction rose in his chest.

He threw the next. Then another.

Each one landed almost perfectly. Not just because of training, but because of his mindset.

Renkai had spent years in his old life calculating complex spell structures. His brain naturally broke down angles, trajectories, movements—as if they were mathematical equations.

To him, throwing a kunai was just another formula to solve.

In his past life, he had spent years perfecting a technique known as Magic Missile—a spell so precise and lethal that enemies feared him as the Arcane Sniper. His current tools were different, but the fundamentals remained the same: accuracy, calculation, and control.

When the test ended, he walked away knowing he had done better than most.

The last test was chakra sensitivity.

Renkai sat cross-legged, hands forming a simple seal.

The instructor watched, unimpressed.

"All you need to do is focus," the man explained. "Try to feel the energy inside your body and bring it forward."

Renkai closed his eyes.

He had already felt it before. He had already begun experimenting with it.

So, this time, it was easy.

His breathing slowed. His mind quieted.

And then—warmth.

Chakra responded instantly.

A faint glow flickered to life around his skin—subtle, but controlled.

The instructor raised an eyebrow.

"Not bad."

Renkai opened his eyes, his expression unreadable.

He could have done more. Could have pushed further.

But there was no need.

Standing out too much was dangerous.

He exhaled slowly and stood up.

The exam was over.

Days passed. The students were officially enrolled.

The Academy was exactly as Renkai expected—structured, disciplined, and full of children who had no idea what real battle was.

His class was divided into two types of students. Clan children – Confident, well-fed, trained from birth. Orphans and civilians – Weaker, untrained, struggling to keep up.

Renkai fell into neither category.

He wasn’t an orphan begging for scraps of power.

And he wasn’t a privileged heir who thought skill was something inherited.

He was something else entirely.

A reincarnated mage, now a student in a world of warriors.

The first week covered basic history, theory, and foundational techniques.

Most students found it boring.

Renkai found it invaluable.

For the first time, he had direct access to structured knowledge.

He learned about the Five Great Nations, the hidden villages, the history of war, the founding of Konoha.

More importantly—he learned what wasn’t taught.

The instructors spoke about loyalty, duty, and the Will of Fire.

But Renkai was not naïve.

He knew indoctrination when he saw it.

The Academy wasn’t just about teaching students how to fight.

It was about creating weapons—loyal to Konoha.

He listened carefully, memorizing everything.

Not because he believed in their ideals.

But because he needed to know exactly how this village operated.

Beyond history, the students were taught to refine their chakra.

This was the most important part.

Each student was given a simple exercise—the Leaf Balancing Test.

The goal was to channel chakra into a leaf and keep it perfectly still on their forehead.

Most students struggled. Their chakra control was wild, unrefined. Some couldn’t even make the leaf move.

Renkai?

He mastered it in minutes.

But he pretended to struggle—faking mistakes for two days.

And then, on the third day, he let himself succeed.

Just enough to be seen as talented, but not unnatural.

The instructors took note. Some nodded in approval.

"Promising control," The instructor muttered.

Renkai allowed himself a small, hidden smile.

This is only the beginning.

It didn’t take long for the other students to notice him.

A few clan heirs saw his growing proficiency and viewed him as competition—especially a boy named Sarutobi Shigeru.

He tried to goad him, challenge him.

Renkai ignored him.

He wasn’t interested in rivalry. He was interested in power.

He would play along. Follow the rules. Let them train him, give him knowledge.

And then, when the moment was right—

He would be able to control his fate.