Timing is everything.
With Wu distracted—juggling the Golden Weapons, his fractured family, and the slow, exhausting task of guiding the world forward—I finally moved. The world's eyes were elsewhere. No one was watching the shadows beneath the mountains.
Shintaro had always interested me.
A wealthy city hidden beneath stone and tradition, protected more by isolation than true strength. More importantly, it sat atop something priceless: Vengestone. A resource capable of neutralizing elemental power itself. In the hands of mortals, it was a curiosity. In my hands, it was a cornerstone of empire.
I opened a portal directly into the Dungeons of Shintaro.
The air shifted as the gateway tore open—wide, circular, and reinforced by layered stabilizing sigils. This was not a temporary rift. I intended to move an army through it. Runes burned crimson and violet along the edges as I poured power into the structure, anchoring it to the ley lines beneath the mountain.
Thirty minutes.
That was how long it took to fully charge.
I stood calmly at the center of the summoning chamber, staff planted against the stone floor, as the portal widened into a massive gateway. Lava-lit silhouettes moved beyond it—my forces waiting patiently for the command. Stone soldiers. Stern warriors. Grimrock units. Gargoyles clinging to the cavern ceiling like living statues.
The moment the portal fully stabilized, I felt it.
Alarm.
Shintaro had noticed.
Horns echoed through the tunnels. Footsteps thundered above. Torches flared as the city's defenders rushed toward the dungeons in disorganized waves. Brave—but hopelessly unprepared.
I raised my staff once.
"Advance."
The army surged forward.
Stone soldiers marched first, shields locking into formation as arrows shattered harmlessly against enchanted rock. Stern warriors followed, their weapons humming with dark enchantments. Gargoyles dove from above, smashing into defensive lines with crushing force.
Then Stone Clay stepped through the portal.
He moved like a living weapon—blade flashing, magic reinforcing every strike. Where resistance gathered, he broke it. Where formations tried to hold, he shattered them. I felt his confidence through our bond, calm and absolute.
The Shintaro army charged.
It wasn't even close.
Steel rang uselessly against enchanted stone. Spears snapped. Explosive traps detonated against soldiers who simply kept walking. My forces were not merely durable—they were designed for this kind of war. Against normal people, even well-trained ones, they were unstoppable.
Elemental power. Superhuman strength. Ancient artifacts.
Those were the only things that could reliably harm my army.
Shintaro had none of them.
Within minutes, the city's defenders were overwhelmed. Some fled deeper into the caverns. Others surrendered outright, dropping weapons and falling to their knees. I allowed it. There was no need for unnecessary slaughter.
I walked forward as the fighting died down, my presence alone enough to silence the cavern.
Fear spread quickly.
Good.
I raised one hand, magic rippling outward, sealing entrances and collapsing escape routes with controlled precision. This was conquest, not chaos. Shintaro would remain intact.
Once the city was secured, I turned to my next task.
I summoned Ruina Stoneheart.
She emerged from shadow and fire, eyes sharp, magic already weaving instinctively through the air. She took in the conquered city in a single glance and smiled faintly.
"You know what to do," I said.
She inclined her head. "Total control. No rebellion."
Ruina moved immediately—deploying enforcers, placing magical surveillance wards, identifying influential figures and breaking resistance before it could form. Any sparks of dissent were smothered quietly and efficiently. Those who cooperated were rewarded. Those who didn't… became examples.
By the time I returned to my castle, Shintaro was no longer a city.
It was an asset.
The Vengestone mines were secured within days. Production increased rapidly under my supervision, my soldiers immune to exhaustion and fear. I already envisioned what this resource would allow—new divisions, specialized units, containment tools for elemental threats.
Wu would not notice for some time.
By the time he did, it would be far too late.
From the Lava Lands to the depths of Shintaro, my domain expanded like a living thing—stone, fire, shadow, and inevitability.
This was not reckless ambition.
This was empire-building.
And Ninjago was only just beginning to understand what that meant.