"'Bout time," Itachi muttered, gazing into the mirror.
His reflection stared back with calm intensity, the 3-tomoe Sharingan spinning slowly within his eyes. He had finally mastered them.
It had taken far longer than he anticipated—his Sharingan were simply too powerful. The fact that they gleamed a radiant gold, rather than the usual scarlet, was proof enough.
His golden Sharingan retained every ability the normal Sharingan possessed—but elevated to a level beyond comparison.
Where the average Sharingan could copy techniques, it still had limits. Bloodline-specific jutsu, or techniques that required a cultivator to meet strict conditions, were normally beyond its reach.
But Itachi's eyes ignored those rules.
His golden Sharingan allowed him to replicate any and all techniques, no matter their origin or requirement. Bloodline abilities like Dragon Breath, or arts that demanded years of cultivation, were copied and executed without delay. He didn't need to train. He didn't need to meet conditions. The moment he saw it, it became his.
The normal Sharingan could read the slightest muscle twitches, track high-speed movements, and grant its user faster perception. Itachi's golden eyes could do all that, but went far beyond.
With just a glance, he could glimpse into someone's mind, reading subtle physical cues and unconscious body language to predict their thoughts and intentions. His perception dissected more than motion—it analyzed instinct.
And it didn't stop there.
If given enough time to scan a person, Itachi's Sharingan could peer slightly into the future. He could predict a person's next move before they themselves had consciously decided to act. It was foresight sharpened to a terrifying edge.
The normal Sharingan could trap a person within a powerful genjutsu known simply as Sharingan Genjutsu. There was virtually no limit to what this illusion could do. It could seize complete control over a target's actions, forcefully delve into their memories, lull them into sleep, or shatter their reality with vivid hallucinations.
Whether used for interrogation, defense, or pure psychological torment, the Sharingan Genjutsu was a weapon that bypassed the body entirely, striking straight at the mind.
Itachi's Sharingan allowed him to do all of that, only without the usual limits. The moment someone fell under his Sharingan Genjutsu, their mind became his to manipulate at will. If he chose to rewrite their entire personality, then so it would be. Thoughts, beliefs, memories—he could reshape them all with terrifying ease.
And once altered, returning to who they once were would be nearly impossible, unless he allows it, or someone else steps forward to undo it.
Itachi had an extra ability—he could see through things. Unlike the normal Sharingan, his eyes pierced through solid matter with ease. He could gaze across great distances, unhindered by walls, mountains, or any barrier in his path. This ability extended far beyond the usual limits, allowing him to observe without obstruction, no matter how deep or far.
It took him two full years to master his Sharingan. Now, at just ten years old, Itachi stood at the edge of a new milestone—ready to break through to the Qi Refinement realm. A realm that, in his case, would only make him even more absurdly powerful.
Why? Because in the Primordial Uchiha Cultivation Art, the Qi Refinement realm wasn't just a foundational stage—it was known as the Tomoe Forming Realm. In the standard Uchiha bloodline, the Sharingan was limited to three Tomoe. But Itachi had rewritten that limit.
He had reshaped the realm's purpose: during Qi Refinement, one could continuously form new tomoes. The more Tomoes formed, the more powerful the eye became. There was no ceiling—one could, and should, fill their entire pupil with tomes before advancing. Upon reaching the next level within the Qi Refinement realm, all of those tomoes would fuse into a singular, overwhelming tomoe, opening the path to a higher level of ocular might.
The newly formed tomoes would each possess power beyond the fused tomoes, and this pattern would continue steadily until one reached Level 10 of the Qi Refinement realm. But such a path was not without cost. The higher the number of tomoes, the more energy and resources would be required to advance to the next stage.
It was a dangerous trade-off—one had to choose between overwhelming combat strength at a low cultivation level and the steep price of immense spiritual resources required for future breakthroughs. Most cultivators would strike a balance between the two paths.
Itachi's mother had chosen moderation. But Itachi? He had no intention of holding back. He planned to walk the extreme, pursuing sheer, overwhelming power at the lowest cultivation stage possible, no matter the cost.
***
"You damn nigger!" a white man roared, eyes filled with fury as he glared at the black man. The black man's body was tied at all four limbs, thick ropes stretching outward—each one connected to a car revving in a different direction.
The engines screamed, and the tires spun. The black man's screams filled the night sky as he was ripped apart.
"D-Dad…" a young light-skinned boy whispered, his voice trembling in horror. He stood frozen, forced to watch as his father's body was pulled taut, bones cracking under the impossible strain. Then came the tearing—skin, muscle, organs—all shredded apart as blood sprayed violently in every direction.
Itachi's eyes snapped open just as someone bumped into him. He had been dozing off on a desk inside what resembled a massive classroom, but this was no ordinary hall of learning. Thousands of seats stretched out in orderly rows, all facing a grand stage at the front where an elder from the Ascending Heavens Sect would lecture on the Dao.
Yes, Itachi had joined a sect. But not just any sect—this one was unlike the ones found in the lower realms. The Ascending Heavens Sect was the greatest sect under the 99 heavens, a united creation formed by countless powers. It came into existence after invaders from another world began launching attacks, threatening the stability of the 99 heavens.
The sect's purpose was simple: to cultivate manpower. That had become a rare resource… thanks to someone who had recently wiped out a shocking number of the 99 heavens' top elites.
Itachi had joined the sect primarily to begin crafting the foundation for his Dao. In this world, there were three recognized paths to comprehending the Dao.
The first—and most common—was the path of comprehension. It involved understanding and aligning oneself with the Dao that naturally existed within the 99 heavens. These were the elemental Daos: Fire, Earth, Air, Water, and so on. They were ancient and foundational, embedded in the structure of the world itself. Though basic, they were indispensable for maintaining the balance of existence.
The second path, often hailed as the most prestigious, was the creation of one's own Dao. This was the path walked by pioneers—those who shaped the world by forging new truths. Take the Dao of the Sword, for example. The sword itself was a manmade concept, born from the need to fight. Yet through relentless mastery, refinement, and belief, the way of the sword was recognized by the heavens and elevated into a true Dao.
Lastly, there was another basic path: following a Dao that someone else had already walked.
For example, a cultivator could inherit a master's understanding of the Dao—taking in their techniques, principles, and insights. This method allowed faster progress, but it came with a price. No matter how far one went, their potential would always be capped beneath the original creator. The inherited Dao would never be truly theirs.
Unlike the sects often seen in novels, where elders were little more than decorations, Itachi quickly found that this sect was different.
Here, the elders actively guided the younger generation. They taught directly, challenged their disciples to grow, and carefully avoided doing anything that might stunt future potential.
This sect wasn't just about cultivation—it was a structured academy of sorts, built to shape prodigies into giants without forcing them into someone else's mold.
"Sorry… a kid?" the person who had bumped into Itachi said in surprise, staring down at him with visible confusion. He hadn't expected to see a child—one who looked no older than six—sitting among the students of this elite class.
But while Itachi's body looked young, the man's sharp gaze saw through it instantly. He realized the boy was actually around ten years old, still absurdly young for a place like this.
Itachi didn't bother responding. Instead, he turned his focus to the front of the massive classroom, which was quickly filling with students. They came in by the dozens—elegant robes, confident steps, eyes like blades.
Each one of them carried an aura of age and experience, many having lived for centuries, some even over a thousand years. These weren't average cultivators. They were prodigies handpicked from the First Heaven all the way to the 99th—each one a peerless genius in their own right.
The cultivation system was divided into seven distinct realms under the mortal path: Body Tempering, Qi Refinement, Core Formation, Nascent Soul, Martial King, Martial Emperor, and Martial Ancestor.
These seven stages formed the foundation of a cultivator's journey and were collectively known as the mortal realm. Each realm marked a qualitative leap in power, understanding, and control over the self and the world.
However, the progression system shifted dramatically from the Martial King realm onward. From that point, cultivators no longer advanced through numbered levels. Instead, their strength was categorized into Early (or Low), Mid, Late, and Peak stages. These stages reflected depth and mastery rather than raw breakthroughs alone, and the gaps between each stage could span decades or even thousands of years, depending on one's talent and resources.
This change in structure marked the transition from basic cultivation to the path of true dominance, where comprehension of the Dao, cultivation art, and individual insights could make one person at the same stage vastly stronger than another.
Above the Mortal Realm began the path of the Immortals—a separate progression system reserved for those who had transcended worldly limits. The first three realms on this path were Lesser Immortal, Greater Immortal, and Golden Immortal. Each of these realms was divided into four familiar stages: Early, Mid, Late, and Peak. While powerful in their own right, these stages were still considered stepping stones toward true immortality.
Beyond them lay the realm of those regarded as the true powerhouses of the immortal world: the Elemental Immortal Realm.
This realm was unique in its structure, split into three transformative stages: False World, Incomplete World, Complete World
Each of these stages mirrored the earlier format, broken down into Early, Mid, Late, and Peak phases. Cultivators in this realm didn't just refine their Qi or spiritual understanding—they began forming internal worlds, each step bringing them closer to becoming walking universes unto themselves.
Above the Elemental Immortal realm stood the towering ranks of true apex cultivators: Immortal King, Immortal Emperor, and finally, the Immortal Sovereign—the peak of immortal cultivation. Each of these realms was further divided into the familiar four stages: Early, Mid, Late, and Peak.
The climb between stages was steep, with every step forward representing not just power, but dominion over the laws of existence themselves.
That said, cultivators below the Elemental Immortal realm—those in the Lesser, Greater, or even Golden Immortal realms—were rarely regarded with any real weight. Their strength paled in comparison to what came next.
Only those who reached the Elemental Immortal stage and beyond earned genuine respect from the wider cultivation world. The sheer difficulty in achieving that level meant even those who surpassed it would show acknowledgment.
It wasn't about strength alone—it was about what one had to endure and comprehend to break into that world. That struggle forged a quiet bond of mutual recognition between all who had crossed that threshold.
In no time, the classroom was completely filled with students. Each person took their seat, and just like flowing water, groups naturally formed as students gravitated toward others who matched their temperament, background, or cultivation path.
Itachi, as expected, drew no small amount of attention. At a glance, he was clearly the youngest person in the entire sect, something that couldn't be ignored. Many whispered among themselves, guessing at his identity.
Some initially suspected he might be the rumored prodigy from the Uchiha clan, a genius whose birth had stirred the heavens. But that thought was quickly dismissed—after all, that particular child was said to be only around three years old. Oddly enough, no one seemed to consider the possibility that his age may have been accelerated through unique means.
Itachi ignored them all. With his eyes closed, he simply waited in silence for the class to begin, showing no interest in the stares or hushed whispers around him.