"Where is he? I'll go find him now."
Uchiha Kure took out a jade medallion from his robes, infused it with chakra, and handed it over.
During wartime, the gates of the Uchiha Clan Compound required identity verification before anyone could enter or leave. After all, transformation techniques and disguise methods in the ninja world were endless.
For a time, the Sharingan itself had served as the identification method.
However, there were too many people within the clan territory who had not yet awakened the Sharingan, as well as many subordinate ninja clans living under Uchiha protection.
As a result, that method had only been used for a few decades before being abandoned, eventually replaced by the current credential system.
The logic behind the system was simple.
Each credential was uniquely bound to the user's chakra. When the holder infused chakra into the jade medallion, subtle changes would occur within it.
These changes were invisible to ordinary people, but under the observation of the Sharingan, they could be clearly seen.
After confirming the authentication, Uchiha Mon closed his remaining Sharingan and returned the medallion.
"Madara should already be at the Third Training Ground," he said. "Right now Izuna and Taki are helping him look for you."
"Got it. Thanks, Uncle Mon."
After exchanging a few more words, Kure put away the jade medallion and quickly headed toward home.
The path was rather quiet, and he only occasionally responded to greetings from people he passed.
In terms of pure land area, the Uchiha Clan Territory wasn't particularly large.
It wasn't even as big as some commercial cities of this era, let alone the Five Great Ninja Villages that would appear in later generations, which were comparable in size to major metropolitan cities.
However, compared with the future Uchiha Clan Compound inside Konoha, its scale was still dozens of times larger.
After all, only jōnin and their immediate families regularly lived within the core clan territory.
Chūnin and genin generally resided in the surrounding areas.
In fact, if it weren't for the convenience of attending the weekly clan meetings, many jōnin probably wouldn't have chosen to live here at all.
The central clan territory was the core of Uchiha power, which also meant land prices were extremely high.
With a ninja's speed, walking just over an hour outside the territory could lead to a far better living environment.
Unfortunately, the clan meeting was held every Saturday, and all jōnin and above were required to attend.
For those living within or near the territory, attendance was mandatory.
To make matters worse, Uchiha Tajima—the clan leader and a notorious workaholic—had scheduled every meeting to begin at 7:30 in the morning and often talked for the entire day.
No one knew where he found so many topics to discuss.
Even during wartime, Uchiha Tajima still insisted on holding weekly clan meetings.
When he was at the front lines, the elder responsible for the clan territory, Uchiha Zhuo, presided over them in his place.
But the problem was—
Almost all of the Uchiha jōnin had already been sent to the battlefield.
Only jōnin were qualified to attend the meetings, and the number of jōnin currently present in the clan territory was at most forty or fifty.
And even that number included those temporarily returning for rest during rotations between battlefronts, as well as those constantly departing to escort logistics supplies.
Almost every important Uchiha department—the Intelligence Department, the United Front Department, and the Staff Department—was stationed at the front lines.
As a result, the highest decision-making authority remaining in the clan territory was essentially just Uchiha Zhuo.
Sometimes by the time he received intelligence reports, the commanders at the front lines had already made their decisions.
Under such circumstances, it was hard to see the point of holding clan meetings within the territory at all.
But whenever someone questioned it, clan leader Tajima would casually respond with a single sentence:
"This is a tradition that the Uchiha have upheld for a thousand years."
And it was indeed tradition.
But during wartime in previous generations, those meetings were mostly symbolic and usually ended within minutes.
No one had ever required detailed written reports like Tajima did.
What kind of report could even be written about the current situation in the clan territory?
Record the results of children's sparring matches every week?
Still…
Kure and Madara already seemed to possess combat strength approaching that of special jōnin.
Even Izuna and Taki were close to reaching the level of chūnin.
Quite a few other children were also nearing the chūnin threshold.
The average talent of this generation was truly the highest the clan had ever seen.
Today was another day for Kure and Madara to spar.
Uchiha Zhuo planned to watch for a while later.
After that, he still had to receive a group of distinguished guests.
Sitting at his desk, Uchiha Zhuo's pen moved swiftly across the paper as he casually fabricated the minutes from last week's meeting.
Meanwhile, his thoughts had already drifted toward the training grounds.
…
"You're late."
As soon as Kure arrived at the training ground, a spiky-haired boy who looked like the typical overpowered protagonist had clearly been waiting for quite some time.
If one ignored his childish voice and small body, the pose he struck—arms crossed, chin raised slightly—already carried a faint hint of the man who would one day stand at the peak of the ninja world.
But no matter how imposing he might become in the future, the current Uchiha Madara was still just a six-year-old boy.
Right now, his behavior only gave off the unmistakable aura of extreme chūnibyō.
"We never agreed on a specific time," Kure replied casually. "As long as it's before sunset, it's not late."
Madara raised an eyebrow, clearly displeased with Kure's lazy attitude.
He looked like he wanted to argue, but since he was the one asking for the sparring match, he could only let out a cold snort to express his dissatisfaction.
Kure had long since grown used to this reaction.
If nothing unexpected happened, Madara would vent all his frustration in the upcoming fight.
"Since you're here, let's begin!"
Madara, who had been standing on the spectator platform with his arms crossed, instantly jumped down onto the field.
When he lifted his head again, his eyes had already turned blood-red.
Within them, a single tomoe slowly rotated.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
"That guy really seems to have lost his temper," Kure muttered quietly.
However, he showed no sign of panic.
Instead of dodging, he formed a hand seal with his left hand.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
An equally blazing fireball erupted from Kure's mouth.
The two massive flames collided with a deafening roar, exploding into a cloud of scorching smoke that instantly filled the entire training ground.
Within the thick smoke, two small figures almost simultaneously drew the kunai from their waists.
The sharp clang of metal striking metal rang out repeatedly.
Their taijutsu was so refined that they hardly looked like six-year-old children.
Every block and thrust was precise and ruthless.
The two figures crossed through the smoke again and again, leaving behind nothing but blurred afterimages.
Around the training ground, clan members who had heard the news and rushed over watched with astonishment.
At such a young age, their taijutsu was already approaching the level of a special jōnin.
They truly lived up to being the sons of the clan leader and the Great Elder.
However, after several rounds of clashes, Uchiha Kure had gradually fallen into a disadvantage.
His kunai grip had already shifted from reverse to forward grip, and his stance had become purely defensive.
It wasn't that his taijutsu was weaker than Madara's.
Rather, the enhancement provided by the Sharingan was simply too overwhelming in close combat.
Even though a single tomoe only enhanced perception, Madara could still easily predict his movements.
"Constantly defending isn't like you, Kure."
Madara's kunai grazed past Kure's cheek as he spoke with a teasing tone.
"Where's your Sharingan?"
"If you don't use it, you're going to lose."
Madara was in an unusually good mood.
Every time he had come looking for Kure to spar before, he always had to wait a long time.
And when he tried to regain his pride during battle, their matches usually ended in draws, leaving him extremely frustrated.
Today, however, Kure had strangely refrained from using his Sharingan at all.
At this moment, Madara felt like he had completely vented his frustrations.
The gloom in his heart had been swept away.
Heh.
That's because if I activate my Double-Tomoe Sharingan, I might scare you half to death.
Kure rolled his eyes inwardly.
Chakra flickered faintly at his fingertips.
He was still hesitating—
whether or not he should reveal his Double-Tomoe Sharingan.