I'm going to play a game with you. If you lose, I'll leave. If you win, all of you will die!"
Uchiha Shin leaned forward, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried a weight that sent a chill through the daimyo's spine.
The daimyo, bathed in the dim glow of the burning palace, couldn't make out Shin's face due to the backlight. But those words alone made his blood run cold.
He wanted to speak, his lips trembled, but in the end, fear won, and he remained silent.
Shin turned his gaze toward the entrance, his Sharingan glinting ominously. "Let's bet on who enters first. A man or a woman?"
A slow smirk curled on his lips. "I say it'll be a woman. What about you?"
The daimyo's throat went dry. There was no choice in this wager. He had no voice in the matter.
He could hear the footsteps approaching, heavy and urgent. His entire body stiffened, sweat trickling down his temple as he stared at the entrance, awaiting his fate.
"Daimyo-sama! Protect the daimyo!"
A battle cry rang out, and a male samurai stormed through the entrance. Behind him, groups of warriors followed, fanning out in formation. Their presence was meant to bring hope, but the moment their eyes fell on Shin, it turned to horror.
They knew him. Everyone did.
For a split second, silence gripped the grand hall before some warriors instinctively stepped back, fear rooting them in place.
The daimyo exhaled, disbelief washing over him. A giddy, relieved laugh almost bubbled out of him.
He won the bet! He actually won!
Shin's expression remained indifferent. He stretched lazily, as if the entire affair bored him. "Looks like I guessed wrong."
A slow nod. "Congratulations, daimyo. You won. And as promised, I'll leave."
He turned away, dusting off his cloak. The daimyo's breath evened, the overwhelming relief making his knees weak. He had survived. He had outplayed the devil himself—
"Kill everyone here."
The words came softly, yet they rang louder than any battle horn.
The smile vanished from the daimyo's lips.
His head jerked up, disbelief flooding his expression. His mind refused to comprehend what he had just heard.
But the truth was undeniable.
Invisible hands seized him, lifting him off the ground. A choked gasp escaped his throat. The spirits of the fallen samurai, infused with Shin's chakra, emerged in golden ethereal forms. They moved with spectral grace, swords gleaming with unearthly light.
And they did not hesitate.
Steel tore into flesh.
The daimyo barely managed a strangled cry before his body became a pincushion of blades. Blood spurted, his wide eyes fixated on Shin, who watched it all with mild amusement.
As his body crumpled, discarded like garbage, his last thought was a desperate, bitter question—
Hadn't he won the bet?
Why? Why?!
Shin chuckled, stepping over the pooling blood. "Idiot. Your winning the bet had nothing to do with whether or not I'd kill you."
His gaze flickered to the rest of the city, his Sharingan morphing into the deadly, spiraling design of the Mangekyō.
"Not a single soul will be spared."
With a single hand seal, the spirits of the samurai turned their blades on the rest, cutting through guards and servants alike. The palace became a slaughterhouse. Screams echoed through its halls, swallowed by the roaring flames licking at its walls.
The daimyo's wife. His children. His loyal retainers. None were spared.
"Soul Binding Jutsu."
The last remaining spirits of the dead drifted toward Shin, drawn to his power like moths to a flame. He sorted through them, selecting only the strongest—those worthy of serving him even in death. The rest? Crushed into raw chakra, absorbed into his growing reservoir of power.
By the time ten minutes had passed, the palace was silent.
Shin surveyed his handiwork. Tens of thousands of souls had fallen into his grasp. Those unworthy of becoming his warriors had been refined into chakra, fueling his growth. The forbidden scrolls hidden within the palace had been gathered, their knowledge soon to be dissected.
With his mission complete, Shin left the ruins behind, passing the incoming Konoha ninja army.
They met no resistance. The once-mighty capital of the Land of Fire had crumbled before Shin's might before they even arrived. What remained was nothing but a graveyard of blood and fire.
The palace, still engulfed in flames, bore silent testimony to what had transpired. And the Konoha forces knew—Shin had been here.
As the army secured the capital, it became a new stronghold for Konoha, a testament to their growing dominion over the land.
Upon his return, Shin met with Tsunade.
"Announce it," he ordered, his voice carrying an undeniable finality.
The decree spread like wildfire:
All who resist will perish. Families, legacies, bloodlines—all will be erased. Surrender, flee, or die. Those are your only choices.
The impact was immediate. The entire ninja world trembled at the sheer audacity of the statement. No one had expected such a blunt, ruthless declaration.
City lords within the Land of Fire faced an impossible decision. Surrender meant losing their power. Defiance meant losing their lives.
Most chose to surrender.
But there were always fools who clung to their pride.
Those who resisted cited reasons—duty, honor, tradition—but Shin saw through their pretenses. Greed and fear motivated them more than anything.
Yet, he had no intention of wasting his time personally handling them.
He had conquered the Land of Fire. He would not be reduced to a mere executioner running from city to city.
That was the army's job.
As war spread, the world shifted. The once-fractured Land of Fire was reshaped into an empire ruled with an iron fist.
By the 42nd year of the Konoha calendar, resistance had all but crumbled.
Konoha was no longer just a village. It was now Konoha City, the heart of an empire.
And at its center, within the newly constructed Imperial Palace, sat Uchiha Shin.
A god amongst men.
In the years following, his power only grew.
He no longer needed hand seals. Ninjutsu bent to his will with mere thought. His understanding of chakra manipulation had reached heights unseen before. His mastery over elemental releases allowed him to wield powers beyond conventional limits.
And should he choose, he could rival even the legends of the past.
Senju Hashirama? He could outmatch a thousand of him in sheer chakra alone.
With his control over the Eight Gates, his Sage Mode, and his deep understanding of forbidden arts, he stood on the precipice of godhood.
Soon, the world would realize—
The age of nations was over.
The era of the Uchiha had begun.
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