Uchiha Soren cradled Juno in one arm, spared a single glance at the Konoha Embassy, then let his gaze drop to the Sarutobi compound's gate. He flicked his hand once.
"This is the central district. Clans are everywhere — move fast and be ruthless. This 'kill one to warn a hundred' operation must be swift, precise, and merciless."
Behind him the Uchiha force flowed like a dark tide: four squads of the Uchiha Police Force poured from the compound, and six allied clan heads — bound to the Uchiha by oath — followed in formation. The units split and moved with dead-center coordination.
One squad of seventeen formed a formidable Purple Flame Array, encircling the Sarutobi grounds and sealing every exit. Other squads took positions at chokepoints; allied clan guards held the perimeter to keep outsiders back. Two squads, led by elite captains, charged the inner courtyard with lethal speed.
At first contact the raid became a one-sided rout. Elite jōnin and squad leaders led the charge; Sarutobi front-line shinobi froze beneath layered genjutsu. Uchiha chūnin bound prisoners with iron chains; civilians were pacified and held immobile. Only a handful gathered resistance in the compound's center — and that resistance was quickly shredded.
Two near-Kage-level Uchiha, eight three-tomoe elite jōnin, and a shifting host of two-tomoe jōnin pressed forward and swept through the compound like an autumn gale scattering brittle leaves.
(What an unfair level of power!) a junior Uchiha thought, while another replied inwardly, (This is glorious.)
Soren walked the rear, Juno warm at his chest, inspecting the Sarutobi grounds as if taking a leisurely stroll. He listened to curses and terrified pleas with detached curiosity. Misfortune, he believed, sprang from incompetence — and he had no pity for losers.
A thunder of jutsu and a ripple of near-Kage chakra pulled his attention. His Mangekyō flared; Tenchō Ritsuzon hummed beneath his sight. His left eye now scanned in a broad radius and the right supplied instant spatial relocation: his spatial reach had quietly grown.
"Damn you, Uchiha — what do you think you're doing?!"
A gaunt elder — Sarutobi Sasuke — spun into the courtyard, grief and fury coiling in his voice. He had been mourning his valiant son; now his clan was being ground to dust.
Katon: Great Flame Technique!
Katon: Great Dragon Flame!
The ancient fire jutsu bloomed from his hands.
Uchiha captains Rei and Baru met the torrents with blocking dragon streams of their own. Fire licked timber; houses caught; gardens smoked. Uchiha chūnin tightened formation; flank teams sealed gaps. The operation shifted from surgical to punitive — blood slicked the soil.
Sasuke fought with that desperate, honorable fury of a cornered veteran, but the elite encirclement tightened: genjutsu, sealing tags, blade, and binding — nothing of his arsenal opened a way out. He watched his options shrink like a snapped string.
Soren had the scene under god's-eye view. He did not rush in. His blink-teleport could reach any point inside the sealed ring; his presence alone kept the attackers disciplined. Wounded, yes. Dead, no — the Uchiha elite were not expendable assets.
The Sarutobi holdings were modest — barely six hundred meters across — with roughly a hundred shinobi and some four hundred civilians. Soren could see everything.
"Lord Soren, this is our first fight without getting our paws dirty, meow."
Juno observed, impressed by the efficiency.
"Future fights will require less of my direct involvement," Soren mused. He still craved Ascension Points, but he already envisioned a different apparatus: a network of prisons spanning the Land of Fire, then beyond — where expendables would be processed and the strong would rule.
Inside the inner courtyard the final struggle played out. Uchiha Rei severed a wrist in one sweep; Uchiha Baru sealed the wound with a binding formation. Sarutobi Sasuke collapsed sobbing, shocked into humiliation.
"Young Lord Soren — why are you doing this?" he rasped, prostrate.
"This is the central district," Soren answered coolly. "By what right do you act here? What crime did my Uchiha find in your clan? Even if a crime occurred, it should be ANBU jurisdiction. You are abusing tradition."
Sasuke's voice broke as he spoke the truth he could not stomach: "It looks like you killed Sarutobi Hishigata."
"Yes. Sarutobi Hishigata died cleanly. He felt no pain." Soren replied without ceremony.
Sasuke's expression shifted — not to rage but to a bitter, weary respect. "You truly are what they call the Uchiha Butcher."
"Did you handle the monkey summons?" Sasuke asked, voice thin. "That graceless brute was—disposed without ceremony."
Soren nodded. "A senseless calamity. Hishigata coordinated with Cloud forces and carried evidence implicating Tobirama's death. The entire clan must be interrogated and detained. That is the point. Do you understand?"
Sasuke's shoulders trembled. He bowed on the charred ground, hands flat. "I understand, my lord."
"In the future, may your grandchildren and the clan's strong young ones contribute to Konoha's development."
Sasuke's reply echoed, hollow and resigned: "As you wish, Hokage-sama!"
The title slid from his lips like a broken locket. Some nearby Uchiha chuckled — the new order's iron logic settling into place. Soren laughed too: bright, clear, and cold. The detained Sarutobi and alleged collaborators trailed out behind the Uchiha line.
Outside the sealed compound the purge had only begun — a signal to the village that the Uchiha would not be trifled with.
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