The sharp, urgent ringing noise echoed directly into Shinra’s brain, completely snapping his attention away from his damaged red armor.
He blinked, focusing his dark eyes on the glowing blue screen floating in his peripheral vision.
[Ding!] [New System Mission Released!] [Mission Title: The Heir’s Authority.] [Objective: Step outside your room, face your clan, and establish your presence.
Prove your prestige and authority to the elders and guards currently in the Uchiha compound.] [Reward: A-Rank Ninjutsu – Rasengan (Adept Level).] [System Note: This is the perfect shape manipulation technique, identical to the standard version mastered by the Toad Sage, Jiraiya.
It requires no hand seals.] Shinra stared at the blue text, his heart doing a sudden, violent flip in his chest.
The Rasengan, he thought, a genuine, excited smile spreading across his face.
He knew exactly how powerful that jutsu was.
In the original timeline, it took the Fourth Hokage three whole years to invent it.
It was a spinning ball of pure, highly concentrated chakra that could grind right through solid rock, metal armor, and human bodies like a buzzsaw.
It didn’t need any complex hand signs, which meant he could use it instantly in the middle of a fast-paced sword fight.
Getting the Rasengan at the ‘Adept’ level meant he wouldn’t need to go through the painful, frustrating training of popping water balloons or rubber balls.
The system would just directly wire the muscle memory and chakra control into his brain.
“Alright,” Shinra whispered to himself, his voice sounding steady and confident in the quiet room.
“The system wants me to act like the young patriarch.
I can do that.” He wasn’t a normal teenager anymore.
He couldn’t act scared or confused.
He was the eldest son of Uchiha Tajima.
He was the older brother of Madara and Izuna.
If he was going to survive this brutal era and protect his family, he needed to start acting like a ruler right now.
Shinra walked over to his red armor.
He knelt down on the woven floor mats and picked up the heavy chest plate.
It was cold to the touch, and there were deep scratches in the metal from enemy swords, but it was still usable.
With practiced, natural movements—thanks to the muscle memory of his body—he began to strap the armor on.
He tied the white bandages securely around his shins and forearms.
He adjusted the high collar of his dark blue shirt, ensuring the proud red and white fan of the Uchiha clan was clearly visible on his back.
He walked over to a small bronze mirror sitting on a low wooden table.
Staring back at him was a twelve-year-old boy.
But he didn’t look like a child.
His dark, curly hair framed a handsome, sharp face.
His black eyes were deep and calm.
His posture was completely straight, his shoulders relaxed but ready to move at lightning speed, a direct result of his new Supreme Combat Awareness.
The dark bruises under his eyes were completely gone, replaced by the healthy, glowing skin of someone overflowing with life energy.
He looked exactly like a young, elite ninja who was ready for war.
Shinra took one last deep breath, letting the incredible power of his Matured Sage Body flow through his veins.
He didn’t feel nervous.
He felt invincible.
He turned toward the wooden sliding doors of his bedroom.
He reached out, grabbed the wooden frame, and slid the door open with a loud, confident clack.
Outside in the dim hallway, six elite Uchiha guards were standing at strict attention.
The moment the door slid open, all six of them jumped slightly, their hands instantly dropping to the handles of their swords out of pure habit.
When they saw who was standing in the doorway, their jaws practically dropped to the floor.
“S-Shinra-sama?!” the captain of the guard gasped, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Just twenty hours ago, these men had carried their young master back from the muddy battlefield.
He had been pale as a ghost, bleeding from his eyes, and barely breathing.
They all thought the eldest son was going to die before the week was over.
But now?
Shinra was standing tall, fully armored, and radiating an aura of pure, intense strength.
“Good morning,” Shinra said smoothly.
His voice was calm, holding a natural tone of command.
“Report the current situation of the clan compound.” Before the guard captain could even stammer out a reply, a panicked voice echoed from down the hallway.
“Young Master!
What are you doing?!” Old Ryota, the medical ninja, came rushing down the wooden corridor as fast as his old legs could carry him.
His face was pale with absolute terror.
He held his medical pouch tightly in his hands.
“Shinra-sama, please!
You must lie down immediately!” Ryota pleaded, skidding to a halt in front of the twelve-year-old boy.
“You have awakened the three-tomoe Sharingan!
The strain on your young chakra pathways is massive!
If you stand up and try to use your energy now, you will cause permanent damage!
You might go completely blind!” Shinra looked down at the old, worried man.
He felt a soft sense of gratitude.
Ryota truly cared about him.
But Shinra needed to show everyone that he wasn’t weak anymore.
“Calm down, Ryota,” Shinra said, his voice soft but firm.
He didn’t raise his voice, but the tone made the old man instantly stop talking.
“I am perfectly fine.” “But…
but your eyes!
The chakra exhaustion!” Ryota protested, wringing his hands together.
“If you don’t believe me, check for yourself,” Shinra offered calmly.
He held out his right arm toward the medical ninja.
“Examine my chakra pathways.
See if I am dying.” Ryota hesitated.
He looked at the elite guards, who were all watching closely, and then back to the young master.
With a nervous swallow, the old man reached out.
Ryota closed his eyes and formed a single hand seal.
His hands glowed with a soft, bright green light.
It was the standard Mystical Palm Jutsu, used for healing and checking the internal health of a patient.
Trembling slightly, Ryota placed his glowing green hands over Shinra’s chest and forearm.
The moment his medical chakra entered Shinra’s body, the old man froze completely stiff.
Ryota’s eyes snapped wide open.
They were bulging so far out of his head they looked like they were going to pop.
His jaw unhinged, hanging open in absolute, raw shock.
“This…
this is impossible…” Ryota whispered.
His voice was shaking so badly he could barely form the words.
“What is it, Ryota-san?” the guard captain asked, stepping forward with a worried frown.
“Is the young master’s condition worsening?” “N-No…” Ryota stammered, pulling his hands back as if he had just touched a hot stove.
He looked at Shinra as if he were staring at a terrifying monster, or a literal god in a human body.
“His chakra pathways…” Ryota breathed heavily, looking around at the guards.
“They aren’t just healed.
They are…
they are massive!
I have never felt anything like this in my entire life!
The young master’s chakra is as deep and violent as a roaring ocean!
His physical vitality is…
it’s thicker than the strongest grown men in the clan!
He has more chakra right now than a squad of elite Jonin combined!” The guards gasped, taking a collective step back in shock.
They all knew the Uchiha clan was famous for their eyes and their fire jutsu.
They were not famous for having large amounts of physical energy.
To hear that a twelve-year-old boy had the chakra reserves of a monster was unbelievable.
Shinra just smiled faintly.
The Matured Sage Body was doing its job perfectly.
“I told you, Ryota.
I am completely fine,” Shinra said, slowly lowering his arm.
“My awakening was…
unique.
My body has adapted to the eyes.” He had established his health.
Now, it was time to establish his authority.
He needed to find out what was happening on the front lines.
“Captain,” Shinra said, his voice dropping into a serious, commanding tone.
“I asked for a report.
Where is my father?
And where are Madara and Izuna?” The captain immediately snapped to attention, bowing his head respectfully.
“Shinra-sama!
Clan Head Tajima is currently leading the main forces at the western river border.
The Senju launched a massive surprise offensive two days ago.
Madara-sama and Izuna-sama are currently stationed at the southern forest camp, guarding the supply lines!” Shinra frowned slightly.
Madara and Izuna were young—nine and seven years old.
Guarding the supply lines was usually a safe job, away from the main fighting.
But in this era, there was no such thing as truly safe.
Before Shinra could ask another question, the heavy, rhythmic thumping of wooden walking canes echoed down the hallway.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
The atmosphere in the corridor instantly changed.
The elite guards stiffened, lowering their heads even further.
Even old Ryota quickly moved to the side, pressing his back against the wall to make room.
Shinra’s newly acquired Supreme Combat Awareness immediately picked up on the three powerful presences approaching from the main courtyard.
Their breathing was slow and controlled.
Their footsteps were heavy with purpose.
From the shadows of the corridor, three old men stepped into the light.
They wore long, traditional, dark-grey kimonos.
Their faces were heavily wrinkled, marked with scars from decades of brutal warfare.
These were the men who stayed behind to manage the clan while his father fought.
These were the Grand Elders of the Uchiha.
The man in the center, Grand Elder Takeshi, had a stern, furious look on his face.
His sharp black eyes locked onto Shinra.
“What is the meaning of this foolishness?” Grand Elder Takeshi barked, his raspy voice echoing loudly off the wooden walls.
“You were nearly killed yesterday, boy!
You are the heir to the clan!
Walking out of your sickbed just to prove you are tough is the action of a stupid child, not a leader!” The tension in the air became so thick it was hard to breathe.
The guards held their breath, terrified of the elder’s anger.
Shinra stood perfectly still.
He didn’t flinch.
He didn’t look away.
Instead, he met the Grand Elder’s furious stare with absolute, icy calm.
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