Fated Adventure.

A pair of crimson eyes with three black tomoe spun rapidly as Ryan's Sharingan analyzed, copied, and predicted Scathach's movements. His simple, unadorned Keyblade clashed against her blood-red cursed spear, sparks flying with every impact.

Scathach grinned, her bloodthirsty smile widening as the thrill of battle surged through her veins. Small cuts marred her flawless skin—a rare sight. Ryan had managed to wound her, and it wasn't by sheer luck.

The Sharingan had caught her off guard.

The subtle illusions, the flawless mimicry of her movements, the near-instant adaptability of his fighting style—it was exhilarating. Ryan wasn't just swinging wildly; he was learning, integrating new techniques in real-time.

Madara Uchiha had not been a mere warrior. He had honed his skills through countless battles, sharpening them to a deadly edge. He was one of the apex fighters of his world. A master of Kenjutsu, Ninjutsu, Taijutsu, Shurikenjutsu, and countless other deadly arts. His only true weakness had been time itself—age had eventually claimed him, as it did all mortals.

But Ryan had none of those limitations.

Unlike the trash he had absorbed from Slaughter City—mere criminals and killers without proper training—Madara's knowledge was an entirely different level. It wasn't just raw power; it was refined skill, the pinnacle of a warrior's craft.

And the Sharingan? It was a monstrous ability. The Mangekyō Sharingan even more so. The Rinnegan? A cheat of the highest order.

Ryan sidestepped a thrust aimed for his heart, his Sharingan predicting the attack just in time. He twisted, his Keyblade sweeping out in a counterstrike, forcing Scathach to parry. The sheer force behind the blow sent vibrations through her arms, her grin widening.

"Good," she purred. "You're finally making this interesting."

She moved—faster than before. A blur of deadly elegance. Her spear became a storm of crimson afterimages, each strike carrying lethal intent. Ryan barely managed to keep up, his Sharingan screaming warnings as his body pushed itself to the limit.

His instincts, his experience, and the Sharingan's predictive abilities wove together into a seamless dance of survival. A normal warrior would have been skewered a dozen times over, but Ryan? He adapted.

His Keyblade spun in his grip, deflecting a thrust before he shifted into an unexpected counter—a move stolen straight from Scathach herself. She barely dodged, her brows lifting in approval as his blade nicked her cheek.

"You're copying me now?" she mused, licking the thin line of blood from her lips. "Then let's see how well you handle this."

Scathach blurred out of sight—Gáe Bolg Alternative.

Ryan's Sharingan flared.

Time slowed.

The world became crystal clear.

Every possibility, every outcome unraveled before him as his mind processed her movements at speeds impossible for normal eyes. He twisted at the last possible moment, his Keyblade shifting into a defensive guard as her spear materialized mid-strike, inches from his heart.

The impact sent shockwaves through the air, splitting the stone beneath them. Ryan gritted his teeth, his muscles straining under the sheer power behind the blow.

But he wasn't done.

With a burst of chakra-enhanced strength, he redirected the force, twisting into a counterattack. His Sharingan spun faster, deep red bleeding into black—a flicker of something more.

Scathach's eyes widened slightly.

Interesting.

Ryan's blade lashed out, this time infused with pure, crackling energy. He wasn't just mimicking her anymore—he was innovating.

Their weapons clashed one final time, the impact shaking the entire manor. The watching girls held their breath, eyes wide as the dust settled.

Scathach stepped back, twirling her spear before resting it against her shoulder. Her blood-red eyes gleamed with something between satisfaction and excitement.

"Not bad," she admitted, the grin never leaving her face. "You're learning faster than I expected."

Ryan exhaled, rolling his shoulders. His Sharingan slowly dimmed, returning to normal. "I have a good teacher."

Scathach chuckled. "Flattery won't save you next time."

He smirked. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Did Ryan think he was even coming close to beating Scathach? Of course not. She was a genuine God-Slayer, a warrior who had felled deities and monsters alike. Even now, she was holding back—significantly. She hadn't used a single one of her Primordial Runes, relying solely on raw martial skill and sheer experience.

And yet…

Ryan grinned, his breath steady. His Sharingan spun, analyzing every subtle twitch of her muscles, every shift in her stance. He wasn't fighting to win—he was fighting to learn.

Scathach seemed to sense that realization, her blood-red eyes narrowing in amusement. "Good," she murmured, her grip on Gáe Bolg tightening. "Then let's see how much you can handle."

She vanished.

Ryan's Sharingan screamed warnings, but even with its predictive abilities, he barely reacted in time.

A fist covered in haki—not her spear—slammed into his stomach. His entire body folded around the blow, the force sending him skidding backward, carving deep trenches into the stone floor.

Before he could recover, she was already there. A kick snapped toward his ribs—he twisted just in time to minimize the damage, but the sheer force still sent him airborne.

He crashed through a reinforced wall, rolling to a stop in the courtyard outside. Dust and debris settled around him as he groaned, pushing himself up. His body protested for a moment before healing, but his eyes burned with exhilaration.

Scathach stepped through the hole she had just made, twirling Gáe Bolg idly. "You're adapting well," she admitted, her tone carrying a rare note of approval.

Her spear flickered—no, her entire body flickered. He threw up his Keyblade in a desperate block—only for her to redirect her strike at the last moment.

Pain exploded in his side as the blunt end of her spear slammed into his ribs. Before he could even grunt, a second blow cracked against his back, sending him face-first into the ground.

His vision blurred for a split second, his breath hitching. Damn.

She chided. "Your reflexes are improving, but you still haven't adapted completely to those eyes or new fighting skills."

The rest of the day was spent getting a one sided beating from his teacher and adapting his new fighting style.

[Oh yeah, send Powerstones and soda money for the day! Cashapp $Ryantheholy sorry for the late chapter, I like many others was sucked into he rabbit hole that is YouTube and didn't go to sleep until like 4am.]