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Uchiha Kazuo collapsed instantly, killed on the spot by Senju.
For a moment, everyone stood frozen in stunned silence, eyes darting between Kazuo's lifeless body and the Senju who now stood behind it—calm, composed, and eerily unbothered.
The surrounding shinobi were dumbfounded.
Especially Nara Kubota, whose face drained of color.
He had expected that the Senju might confront Uchiha Kazuo to assert dominance—perhaps overpower him in a show of strength, maybe even force submission. But this?
He never imagined Senju would kill Kazuo outright.
And in front of a dozen Uchiha.
This was no longer about authority. This was provocation—one that could ignite a clan war.
Uchiha Fugaku's eyes flared red with rage, the tomoe of his Sharingan spinning rapidly. He took a step forward and shouted, "Senju! Why?! Even if Kazuo defied your orders, there was no need to kill him!"
Senju, unmoved, lowered himself and sat atop Kazuo's corpse, resting an elbow on his knee with a slight smirk.
The smile sent a chill through the entire unit.
The Uchiha shinobi surrounding him glared with fury, several gripping their kunai, teeth clenched.
Senju spoke as if commenting on the weather. "I made myself clear. As field commander, my word is law. Kazuo refused to follow orders and publicly challenged my command. That makes him a liability. So, I eliminated him. Is there a problem?"
Fugaku's voice trembled with fury. "Of course there's a problem! I was already intervening—I could have brought him around! You didn't even give him time—he was a jonin of our clan!"
Senju tilted his head, his gaze cold and unreadable. "I gave him two chances. He refused both. He wouldn't listen to me, and from where I stood, he wasn't listening to you either. I don't have time to babysit insubordinates. Especially not during wartime."
He stood, brushing nonexistent dust from his armor.
"My orders stand above clan politics. If you or your men can't accept that, speak now."
Before Fugaku could reply, someone among the Uchiha shouted, "You just wanted to vent your anger on us!"
Another joined in.
"You killed Kazuo to make an example! You don't care about us or the mission!"
"That's right!" a third voice yelled. "We don't recognize you as our commander!"
More joined in—grumbling, shouting, some cursing Senju outright.
Kubota's expression darkened.
This was bad.
The Uchiha were proud, yes—but this was rebellion in the making. If they turned violent before the operation in the Land of Waves even began, they'd destroy each other before Mist shinobi got the chance.
But Senju?
He remained utterly composed.
Unflinching, he locked eyes with Fugaku, his gaze steady. Fugaku, sensing something, narrowed his own eyes—but he was too late to act.
Senju smiled coldly.
Then he moved.
In a blur, his Mangekyō Sharingan activated—its design ominous, alien, and suffocating.
The air grew heavy as the pressure rolled over the Uchiha like a crushing wave. The protests faltered.
Silence returned.
"I'll ask once," Senju said coldly, his fingers brushing the hilt of his ninja blade. "Will you follow my orders?"
No one responded.
His fingers closed around the hilt.
"I don't need soldiers who won't obey. Disobedience in battle is death—for all of us. If you can't follow orders, then you're nothing but dead weight."
Fugaku's eyes widened in alarm.
"Wait—don't—!"
Too late.
Senju flickered forward, and with brutal precision, his blade pierced the throat of one of the protesting Uchiha.
"You were the first to question me. You die first."
A cry rang out. Fugaku leapt to intercept, but Senju was already gone.
By the time Fugaku landed, three more Uchiha were dead.
Blood pooled on the earth. Shocked gasps spread through the ranks.
Senju had started a massacre.
Kubota's mind reeled. He's actually doing it... He's slaughtering Uchiha inside Konoha's ranks...
Fugaku tried to stop him, but Senju's movements were too fast—blindingly fast.
The Uchiha shinobi panicked. Some tried to draw weapons, others hesitated. No one could get a clean shot—no one could match his speed.
Just when it seemed like bloodshed would consume them all, three desperate voices cried out from the chaos:
"Lord Senju, we submit!"
"Please—don't kill anymore!"
"We were wrong! We'll obey!"
The voices came from Uchiha Kyosuke, Uchiha Keiichi, and Uchiha Ryuhei—three who had once served under Senju on previous campaigns.
They fell to their knees, foreheads pressed to the earth, their voices cracking with desperation.
They had wanted to surrender earlier, back when Kazuo fell. But they didn't dare—out of fear of being branded traitors to their own clan.
After all, the last time they followed Senju's orders over the clan's wishes—during the mission in the Land of Hot Water—they had been ostracized.
But now, seeing their clansmen die before their eyes, they could no longer hold back.
They knew Senju.
They knew he wasn't bluffing.
And that was exactly what Senju had been waiting for.
At the edge of the crowd, a faint smile curved his lips.
Finally.
He had waited patiently—for someone to give him a path out of escalation. That lifeline had to be either Uchiha Fugaku himself… or the three shinobi he'd led in the past.
Had no one stepped forward, he would have stopped himself after a set number. Because even he understood the consequences.
He had only killed one jonin—Kazuo. The others? Chunin and genin. Disposable in the eyes of higher command.
If he overstepped and targeted more senior members, the Uchiha could unite—and Hiruzen Sarutobi, with his usual pacifism, would be forced to concede to them.
Senju's limit had always been ten. No more than that.
Kazuo counted as one. The others? Low rank.
With Danzo behind the scenes, he could handle the political fallout.
Everything was calculated.
Every move—intentional.
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