The sun hung low over the horizon. The day had just begun, and Trilby was already hard at work. The sand arena was deserted, as it usually was. He couldn't help but recall the last time he was here, where he met a swordsman and a drunk, and formed the first true friendships he ever had. And they were the reason he was here today. Balloons were hanging off chairs all over the arena, at varying distances. There were even a few floating from spears inside the arena grounds. Fūton ninjutsu, the art of converting your chakra into wind and utilising it for combat. Trilby always did have a powerful wind nature to his chakra. And that was why he was in the arena again. Fūton: Reppūshō, an offensive wind technique. The user claps their palms together, compressing and transforming their chakra into a powerful gale. Trilby boiled his training down to three parts. First, get the gale strong enough to puncture a balloon. Second, get the gale to have enough launch to throw a spike of earth into the distant balloons. Third, use the gale to blow one of his stone clones over.

“Helium filled balloons. The surface is latex, quite a flexible material. It'll take a decent burst of blunt air pressure to overcome the elasticity, especially considering that they can blow around in it.” Trilby thought aloud, clapping his palms together. He could feel pressure forming between his hands, as his chakra began to swirl and compress, converting to air. He focused the pressure into his right hand, thrusting it towards the balloon directly in-front of him. The balloon swayed as the wind bombarded it, but stayed resistant. Again, he focused his chakra into his pressed palms, envisioning thousands of strands of chakra, rolling together into one large ball of pressure,shrinking smaller and smaller before exploding out in a burst of pressure. BANG! Chunks of the balloons latex shell were scattered everywhere. His recent training was certainly paying off, he was getting far more efficient at converting his chakra's nature. Still, he was far from done yet. A simple balloon was merely a stepping stone to a larger goal.

Dog, Boar, Bird. A large row of stone spikes rose from the arena floor in-front of them. Walking along, Trilby snapped off each spike at the base, leaving them in a pile where he started. Trilby slammed his palms together, focusing his chakra together, and then transferring it to his right hand. Picking up a stone pike with his left hand, he threw it at one of the balloons at the back of the arena, firing the gale of wind from his right palm behind it, giving it extra momentum. The spear sailed through the air, past a few rows of stairs before losing altitude, hitting one of the stone stairs and crumbling. Again, Trilby fired and again the spear fell at the same row. Nothing that Trilby tried worked, more chakra, more compression, nothing he did could extend the range of the burst beyond 15 metres. However, when he aimed for a balloon that wasn't as far away, the spear rocketed towards it easily, destroying it without effort. Clearly the balloon test wouldn't work for this, as there was no middle ground with the technique, at least in it's current state. He needed a different target. Grabbing one of the spears, he threw it, without the force of the Gale Palm, into the wall of the arena. It hit it, leaving a slight scratch before falling away. He threw again, this time with the backing of a gale palm burst. The spear dug into the arena wall, penetrating about an inch and hanging there. It certainly seemed effective at increasing the force of projectiles. Still, it was time for him to move on.

Snake, Ox, Ram. Two stone clones formed from the floor of the arena, flexing their arms and staring expectantly at Trilby. Slamming his palms together, he focused his chakra, thrusting a burst of wind at the chest of one of the clones. He staggered, stepping back a few feet before grinning. “You'll have to try harder than that” He said, smirking at himself. Trilby scowled, Clapping his hands together again. “Pathetic, you call yourself a shinobi?” “What a weak display of power” “You fight like a slave” On and on, Trilby's clones berated him as each burst of wind only staggered them, never demonstrating the power he needed, the force to knock a person over effortlessly.

“SHUT UP!” Trilby roared, slamming his palms together. His anger festered inside him, boiling over. He focused all his chakra into his hands, thrusting in unison. The clone went flying, bashing his head into the wall of the arena and beginning to crumble. “Very good, now do it in combat” The other clone said, lunging at Trilby, stone spear in hand. Trilby sidestepped, swinging for it's shin, but it leapt into the air before he could make contact, thrusting for Trilby's chest. Swaying back, Trilby slammed his palms together, thrusting towards the still mid-air clone, sending him flying into the stands, where he quickly crumbled into nothingness. Sighing in relief, he looked at his hands. He still wore the bandages from his hospital stay, though his burns had healed. A reminder to himself about how he had to train harder. And that he had. In the last few weeks he had accomplished more than in the last year before it, and he had no intention of stopping now. Unravelling his bandages, he drew a lighter from his jacket, setting them ablaze. Trilby threw them into the air, clapping his hands together and blasting them with air, turning the bandages into a torrent of flames. He no longer needed a symbol to inspire him, the will he needed to keep going, to be the sharpest gale, the mightiest torrent, was already inside him. Wind. The ultimate blade. He would make it look blunt in comparison. And today was just the start.