In the Land of Fire, inside a beautifully constructed classical building, four Uchiha ninja teams—twelve members in total—stood at attention on both sides of the Fire Daimyo.
The Fire Daimyo, Ashigao, sat atop the steps at the front of the hall, clearly pleased with the guards at his side.
"Oh, my dear friends, take a look at the guards I've brought in from Konoha. Every one of them is an elite Uchiha ninja. Ever since the Konoha Police Department underwent its reforms, a secondary force was formed. I spared no expense in bringing these shinobi here just to open your eyes!"
With pride written all over his face, Ashigao raised a paper fan to hide his smile, clearly enjoying the attention.
These twelve Uchiha were a carefully selected unit, led by a Jonin and supported by experienced Chunin. To bring them to the palace, Ashigao had commissioned an 800 million ryo mission through the Hokage himself—Hiruzen Sarutobi.
The extravagance had drawn criticism. Kazuma, one of the Twelve Guardian Ninja, had openly argued with the Daimyo about it. In his fury, Ashigao had even claimed that Konoha's very existence under a Hokage was threatening the Land of Fire's peace.
Ridiculous. The "one country, one village" system had been created by the God of Shinobi, Hashirama Senju. All five great nations followed this model, and Konoha had never lost a single Great Ninja War. Ashigao fully supported the village.
Besides, Tsunade was his niece, and that made him her grandfather. His ties to Konoha were unshakable. The only one he couldn't stand was that bandaged, cane-wielding figure lurking in the village—the man gave off an aura of constant gloom and deceit.
In the audience, the surrounding nobles whispered among themselves.
"I heard something about this recently. A few merchants from Konoha couldn't stop talking about the formation drill."
"Sure, the Uchiha are strong, but they're difficult. I won't make any judgments until I see them in action."
One noble clearly had prior dealings with the Uchiha and hadn't been pleased with their attitude.
"Lord Ashigao, would you mind starting the demonstration?"
"Uchiha Jikura, take your team out and begin the drill for the nobles."
"Understood."
Uchiha Jikura stepped out with the other eleven, expressionless but inwardly amused. He'd never had such an easy A-rank mission in his life. When he first accepted the assignment, he thought the Daimyo might be planning a long journey and needed heavy protection. But in reality, all he had to do was stand around in the palace and march in formation every day.
And it wasn't even boring. The nobles' gossip was wild. The young heir of one family was sick from too much womanizing; the eldest princess had an affair with her father-in-law; one noble heir fell in love with his fiancé's brother. None of it mattered.
What mattered was the payout. The mission deadline ended tonight, and as team leader, Jikura would soon return to Konoha to collect his share—easily over 100 million ryo.
Outside the door, Jikura assembled his men into formation and began the drill.
The sound of synchronized footsteps echoed as they entered the palace.
The nobles were instantly stunned by the sight. The Daimyo chuckled behind his fan once more. Though he'd watched this same display a dozen times already, it never got old. The shock on the nobles' faces fed his pride and inflated his sense of superiority.
Once the formation was complete, night fell. Jikura and the others took their leave and departed for Konoha.
Dark clouds veiled the full moon, plunging the forest into deeper shadow. Jikura raised his hand to signal a halt.
"Uchiha Tetsuyu, Uchiha Eiki, Uchiha Li—your teams rest first. I'll take the first watch."
The other teams leaned against tree trunks and closed their eyes.
But two kilometers away, more than thirty Root operatives were tailing them—led by Aburame Ryoma. Among them were twelve Jonin; the rest were elite-level Chunin.
"Our mission is to eliminate these twelve Uchiha rebels. Do not damage their eyes—Lord Danzo wants them intact. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Move out."
The Root division excelled in assassination and stealth. Even the Chunin among them had slain Jonin-level opponents. Ninja combat was high-risk, high-lethality—offense always outweighed defense.
Danger loomed closer with each step.
The woods were eerily quiet. Jikura, unsettled, activated his Three Tomoe Sharingan on instinct.
!!!
Years of combat experience screamed at him—something was wrong. He hadn't expected this many enemies, though.
He reached for his ninja tools.
But Ryoma had already seen the movement. "Attack!"
A hailstorm of kunai, shuriken, and senbon rained down.
"Ambush! Get up!" Jikura shouted.
Even with the quick warning, five Uchiha Chunin died instantly—vitals pierced. Uchiha Tetsuyu's arm was impaled by a kunai.
Root had them surrounded. Each Uchiha team leader was under attack by three Jonin.
Three shadowy figures with flashing blades descended on Uchiha Li.
That was when Jikura recognized the sword style—it was Konoha's. This was Root. No question. He knew he wouldn't survive the night. But he could still pass on what he'd learned.
He leapt back, gaining space.
"Summoning Jutsu!"
"Meow~Summon—meow!!!"
The ninja cat's tail was caught in a blast of Fire Style ninjutsu, and it let out a furious yowl.
"Root has made their move! Go! Warn the clan head!"
The summoning ended as Jikura severed the link.
"He's really going all out," Ryoma muttered. "To use his own body to protect the summon…"
Jikura's right arm had been scorched black by the flames—numb, useless, hanging dead at his side.
Gritting his teeth, he drew his blade with his left hand—and cut off his right arm.
"You Root bastards... even if I die here, I'll take some of you with me!"
His face twisted in fury. He'd known escape was impossible the moment he saw them. At least the intel had gotten out. He could die with purpose. He only regretted the family he'd leave behind—his wife, his son…
Moments later, blood and body parts littered the forest floor. The Uchiha had been annihilated.
Ryoma stepped on Jikura's body, reaching down to extract the eyes—but his hand went right through.
He froze and leapt backward.
Suddenly—the real Jikura appeared behind him. His left eye had gone white and cloudy.
Raising his sword—!
"Uchiha Sword Style: Sword Leaping Flame!"
The blade, engulfed in blood-red flames, slashed downward.
Ryoma, still moving backward, had no time to change direction. He twisted just enough—
SLASH!
An arm hit the ground. Ryoma screamed from the searing pain of his severed limb.
"You damn Uchiha! What right do you have to resist? You're a cancer in Konoha's veins!"
A wave of ninja tools slammed into Jikura. He had just used Izanami, draining the last of his chakra and strength. That flaming slash had emptied him completely.
Thud.
His body was riddled with weapons. Some buried deep into muscle and bone.
Even if he couldn't kill Ryoma, he'd made him pay. That was enough.
As Jikura collapsed backward, only one thought remained:
"Deputy Clan Head... Uchiha Hikaru... avenge us. Please... take care of my wife... and my son..."
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