After Kurenai Yuhi was taken away by Uchiha Izumi, Raien did not linger in the luxurious yet stifling main hall.
He passed through layers of palaces and arrived at a completely different area deep within the Imperial Palace—a massive and solemn Training Grounds.
The opulent decorations were nowhere to be found here.
Instead, there was compacted earth, cold steel training equipment,
and the thick scent of sweat and dust that permeated the air.
An irrepressible sharpness hung over the place—like a blade already drawn from its sheath.
On the Training Grounds, figures flickered, and shouts of battle shook the heavens.
Eight hundred ninja, all dressed in uniform black combat attire, were divided into several small teams, engaged in intense sparring.
The dull thud of fists and feet colliding, the clang of kunai clashing, and the roar of ninjutsu exploding intertwined together, forming a heart-pounding wave of sound.
Their movements were swift and ruthless, every strike aimed directly at vital points.
There was no trace of youthful naivety in their eyes.
Only the cold focus of warriors and absolute obedience to command.
The oldest among them were no more than twenty-two, their faces already carved with hardship.
The youngest were only fourteen, still carrying traces of childishness.
Yet their eyes were as hard and unyielding as cold iron.
They shared a common origin.
Before Raien's ascension, they had all been orphans—rootless weeds struggling to survive across the vast yet barren lands of the Land of Fire.
At that time, under the incompetent rule of the old Daimyō, the nobility indulged in extravagant excess while the common people suffered endlessly.
Scenes of displacement and mass starvation were everywhere.
Under the guise of "charity" or "recruiting household servants,"
Raien secretly gathered these children who had already tasted the cruelty of the world.
They were sharp blades personally selected by him, nurtured with enormous resources and tempered through the most brutal methods.
They were his fangs, hidden beneath the splendor of the Imperial Palace.
They were eight hundred—
death guards, loyal only to the Emperor.
Raien stood with his hands clasped behind his back on a high platform at the edge of the Training Grounds.
Like an emperor reviewing his army—
and indeed, he was the Emperor of the Land of Fire.
As he watched the murderous, disciplined scene below, a glint of satisfaction flashed through his eyes.
"Eight hundred people…"
he murmured softly, his voice meant only for himself,
yet carrying confidence that looked down upon the world.
"In the Xuanwu Gate Incident, eight hundred valiant warriors were enough to stabilize an empire and usher in a prosperous age.
Now that I command eight hundred death guards, what is impossible?"
From the history he had learned in his previous life, Raien understood one truth clearly:
Elites were never about sheer numbers.
They were about absolute loyalty and ruthless execution.
These eight hundred were his first lever—
the tool that would pry loose the stubborn rock known as Konoha.
Responsible for training these eight hundred sharp blades were twenty-four figures, also dressed in black, but exuding a colder, more aloof presence.
They were scattered throughout the Training Grounds, hawk-like eyes scrutinizing every detail of the training.
From time to time, they issued short, stern commands.
Behind their collars, a small embroidered Uchiha fan crest was clearly visible.
At the forefront stood a lean, stern-faced young man of eighteen or nineteen.
He stood upright like a spear beside the high platform, his gaze sharp as steel as it swept across the field.
His name was Uchiha Tekka—
one of the survivors of the Uchiha Clan massacre.
The moment Raien appeared on the platform, the atmosphere of the Training Grounds changed instantly.
"Stop!" Uchiha Tekka's low growl rang out.
The sound wasn't loud, yet it was like freezing ice—
instantly silencing the shouts of battle and the sounds of impact across the entire field.
The eight hundred death guards froze as if time itself had been paused.
Every movement ceased.
Eight hundred pairs of eyes turned simultaneously toward the high platform.
Toward the man who had given them new life, and who now held their fates in his hands.
There was no ordinary reverence in their gazes.
Only fanatic faith and absolute submission.
Led by Tekka, the twenty-four Uchiha ninja dropped to one knee, heads bowed deeply.
"Greetings, Your Majesty!"
The eight hundred death guards followed in unison,
kneeling like a surging black tide.
The thunderous sound of knees striking the ground merged into a single, crushing roar.
"Greetings, Your Majesty—!"
Eight hundred voices converged into one overwhelming wave, carrying iron, blood, and loyalty, echoing across the Training Grounds and making the very air tremble.
Raien nodded slightly, a faint smile of absolute control on his face.
He raised his hand.
"Rise."
"Thank you, Your Majesty!"
The warriors rose in perfect unison, standing straight once more—
like eight hundred blades awaiting the moment to be unsheathed.
Uchiha Tekka quickly stepped forward and bowed deeply again.
When he lifted his head, his stern face burned with undisguised fanaticism and loyalty.
"Your Majesty has graced us with your presence. What are your instructions? Tekka—and all the warriors—are ready to die for Your Majesty at any time!"
Raien's gaze lingered on the clear three-tomoe Sharingan spinning slowly in Tekka's eyes, then swept over the Uchiha behind him, many of whom possessed one- or two-tomoe Sharingan.
These were the "sparks" Raien had secretly saved during that bloody night of annihilation.
Through a clandestine deal with Danzo Shimura, those who had not yet awakened the Sharingan were branded as "failures" within the clan— lacking potential.
Thus, after Raien reached an agreement with Danzo, they were spared from Danzo and Obito's purge list and quietly escorted out of Konoha by Raien's people.
Yet the hatred born from the clan's destruction, combined with the despair of near death, became the strongest catalyst of all.
When they learned the truth, under Raien's deliberate guidance and within the safety he provided, these Uchiha orphans— without exception— awakened the Sharingan.
The strongest among them, Tekka and Izumi, even broke through to three-tomoe Sharingan, driven by the intertwined emotions of hatred and gratitude toward Raien's so-called "life-saving grace."
Hatred was the best teacher.
And the most efficient fuel.
Raien understood this perfectly.
He transformed their towering hatred toward the Konoha higher-ups—
especially Danzo Shimura—
into a blade aimed directly at Konoha, and firmly held that blade in his own hand.
These Uchiha survivors not only possessed powerful Bloodline Limits, but also, because of that hatred and their absolute loyalty to Raien, became the perfect candidates to train death guards and carry out the most dangerous missions.
"Tekka, the training is going well," Raien said calmly, his gaze sweeping over the disciplined ranks below. "The morale is excellent."
"All thanks to Your Majesty's boundless fortune!" Tekka replied, his voice tinged with excitement.
"Continue the training," Raien said, waving his hand as his eyes turned toward the distance— as if piercing the palace walls and seeing the outline of Konoha itself.
"Soon… your strength will be needed. Let me see just how sharp this blade, tempered for eight years, truly is."
"Yes! Your Majesty!" Uchiha Tekka bowed deeply again, his eyes blazing with battle intent and vengeance.
That day…
had it finally arrived?
For these Uchiha orphans, revenge was everything—
to avenge their clan, their families, their friends,
to take vengeance upon Konoha itself.
"Our blades exist only for Your Majesty!"
"We will cut down all enemies who dare obstruct Your Majesty's great cause!"
Raien said nothing more.
He merely watched as the eight hundred death guards resumed their brutal training, while the twenty-four Uchiha instructors moved through the ranks like black specters.
A chilling killing intent spread once again—
denser and more oppressive than before.
At this moment, the Imperial Training Grounds had become the core where a destructive storm was being nurtured.
"Soon… very soon…"
Raien's lips curled into a cold, resolute smile.
"Konoha will become history."
Konoha.
Hokage.
The ninja world.
Before his eight hundred loyalists and the sharpened blades of the Uchiha, all of it would eventually be crushed—
and absorbed into the territory of his unified empire.