Outside the gates of Kusagakure, the wind swept through the overgrown road, scattering countless blades of grass into the air.
Whoosh!
A team of shinobi appeared on the road in a blur of motion, immediately drawing the attention of the Grass-nin guarding the entrance.
Uchiha Yuan slowed his pace, his sharp eyes sweeping across the distant village. Compared to the bustling prosperity of Konoha, Kusagakure looked like a hollow shell—a weathered, impoverished settlement clinging to survival.
This time, Yuan had brought only a ten-man squad of elite Konoha shinobi.
The guards stiffened as the group approached, but when they spotted the leaf-engraved forehead protectors, their tension eased slightly.
"Konoha shinobi," one of them called cautiously, "what brings you here?"
Yuan stopped before the gate. "Your village sent multiple requests for aid. I'm the one sent to answer them."
His calm, cutting tone made the Grass-nin pale instantly. When Yuan's cold gaze swept over him, the man felt as if a predator's eyes had locked onto his throat.
What terrifying pressure…
The guard could do nothing but step aside as Yuan and his men walked past him and entered the village.
"Are those Leaf shinobi?"
"The one in front—he's an Uchiha, isn't he?"
"What's Konoha doing here?"
As they moved through the narrow streets, villagers whispered and Grass-nin peered from alleys and windows, suspicion and fear flickering in their eyes.
At the center of Kusagakure stood a gray, weather-stained administrative building. Word of Konoha's arrival had already spread, and the village's leader waited outside, flanked by a dozen of his men.
"That brat!"
One of the Grass-nin suddenly shouted, pointing.
The leader—a massive, broad-shouldered man with a brutal face and sharp, triangular eyes—turned slightly. "What is it, Saeomaru?"
"That's the Uchiha who let those Rain-nin escape that day!"
Saeomaru had already reported the previous encounter in detail—but had conveniently omitted the part where Yuan had saved their lives. Instead, he'd accused Yuan of betraying an ally by sparing the Rain-nin.
Another Grass-nin, bald and scarred, glared furiously. "Tch. Konoha sends a child to handle our request? Are they mocking us?"
"Exactly! This whole war is Konoha's fault! They're the reason our land is in chaos!"
"Rock, Rain, Waterfall—everyone's trampling our borders, and Konoha sends ten people? Do they think we're fools?"
The leader, Windwa Ōno, raised a hand, silencing them. His narrow eyes glinted coldly as Yuan approached.
Yuan came to a stop just a dozen meters away, his gaze sweeping over every one of them—calm, unflinching, yet carrying a crushing weight that made several men's hands tremble on their weapons.
He already knew what he would do with this place.
I'll take Kusagakure.
It would become his foothold—his hidden stronghold within the chaos of the shinobi world.
And the men before him? They were obstacles to be removed.
"I am Uchiha Yuan," he said flatly. "I've come under orders to support Kusagakure."
As Yuan's gaze passed over them, Ōno studied the Konoha shinobi behind him. The weight of their chakra alone made him uneasy. These weren't ordinary soldiers—they were all jōnin.
"Welcome," Ōno said after a pause, forcing a smile. "I'm Windwa Ōno, leader of the Grass Village."
He gestured toward the building. "Please, come inside."
Inside the dimly lit conference hall, the atmosphere was tense enough to snap.
Yuan sat at one end of the table; Ōno and his officers sat at the other.
Yuan's face was unreadable, his voice calm but sharp as a blade. "Since you've requested Konoha's aid, from this moment forward, all affairs of Kusagakure will fall under my command."
The declaration dropped like a hammer.
Ōno's expression darkened immediately. "That's quite presumptuous, don't you think? We are allies of Konoha, not subordinates."
Yuan's eyes flicked up—cold, detached. "This isn't a discussion. It's an order. You have only two options—comply or refuse."
Ōno's jaw clenched, the veins on his forehead bulging. He couldn't sense a hint of chakra from Yuan, but the men behind him radiated overwhelming killing intent.
After a long breath, Ōno said evenly, "Then let me make it simple. We'll handle our own affairs. You can return to your village, Uchiha."
The Grass-nin behind him shifted, chakra flaring—they were ready to strike at any sign of movement.
But Yuan didn't so much as blink. His eyes glinted faintly.
"So," he said softly, "you've chosen refusal."
A subtle pulse of power rippled through the air.
"Binding Illusion: Golden Paralysis."
The Grass-nin froze where they stood, eyes widening as their bodies refused to obey.
An illusion—he trapped us all in a single glance?
Ōno's heart pounded. He strained against invisible chains, snarling, "What is this, Uchiha?! Do you mean to strike down an ally? Konoha won't allow this treachery!"
Yuan ignored him. He raised a hand and said calmly, "Leave the leader alive. Kill the rest."
Before the Grass-nin could even react, his ten Konoha subordinates vanished from sight.
Then came the faintest whispers of steel—followed by gurgling cries as crimson lines bloomed across throats and chests.
Blood sprayed across the conference table, splattering the walls. The thick, metallic scent filled the room.
Ōno's breath caught in his throat.
In the silence that followed, only Yuan's calm voice remained—cold, final, and merciless.
"Now," he said, turning his gaze back to the trembling Grass leader, "shall we continue our discussion?"
Some people die… but they're never truly gone.
To read advanced Chapters, head over to p@treon:
patreon.com/nani_kaito