Naruto: Uchiha Destroys Konoha at the Start.

The Land of Ancestors had changed.

The people were fed, but watched.

Roads were paved, but patrolled.

Fields were full, but guarded by chakra-wielding soldiers who answered to no one but Kaito. The old lords were gone — executed or exiled. In their place stood a council of puppets, maintained by loyalty, fear, or both.

Kaito called it an order.

The people called it peace.

But peace with no voice. No dissent. No alternative.

Inside the black-stone temple built in his and Kaguya's name, Kaito stood before a wall etched with prayers he hadn't approved.

He ignored them.

"When will you take the fruit?" he asked.

She hesitated. "If I rush it, it could destroy the world. If I wait too long, the others may come."

"You'll need its power. My strength is sealed. I won't be able to stop them alone."

She nodded slowly.

A voice broke the silence. "Report!"

A soldier entered and knelt low. "Ministers Suzaku and Genbu, from the Eastern Dominion, have arrived. They demand an audience."

Kaito didn't even turn his head.

"Demands," he muttered. "Interesting."

The ministers' laughter rang through the chamber like knives scraping stone.

They reclined with ease, spilling wine and arrogance across the polished floor, as if they still ruled something. As if the old world hadn't already been crushed.

Then the door opened.

Kaito entered without a word. No herald. No footsteps. Just presence — cold, suffocating, absolute.

The air itself recoiled.

Every guard in the room snapped to attention. One of Kaito's chakra-forged enforcers stepped forward, hand twitching on his hilt, waiting.

Kaito raised a finger without looking.

"If either of them opens their mouth again," he said softly, "I want to see teeth on the floor."

Suzaku, the thinner of the two ministers, lifted his cup and sneered.

"So the ghost king does speak. Forgive me — I expected more divinity, less... mildew."

His gaze slid toward Kaguya, lingering too long.

"But your woman—she radiates the kind of power I could worship."

The room didn't react. No gasps. No outrage. Just stillness, drawn like a blade.

Kaito didn't blink.

He walked forward, slowly, deliberately. And as he did, the shadows stretched with him — unnaturally long, unnatural altogether.

"You mock what you don't understand," he said, voice flat. "It's instinct. But instincts can be rewired."

He lifted his hand.

The minister's body convulsed. Then — a scream, short and wet — and he fell to his knees.

His hands moved against his will. First, a slap. Then a punch. Then his fingers hooked into his mouth and pulled.

Blood spilt over his lips as he ripped skin from his gums, tearing it in strips like wet paper. His screams were strangled by his hand. He convulsed, but couldn't stop.

"Minister Suzaku!"

The other delegate, Minister Genbu, recoiled in shock. He turned to Kaito, his face twisted in rage.

"What have you done to Minister Suzaku!? Do you realise you've just insulted our entire nation? We won't stand for this! Release him at once, or else—"

But before he could finish, a sudden chill ran through his body.

He looked up.

Kaito's eyes bore into him—cold, empty, and final. Genbu's heart clenched. The rest of his threat dissolved in his throat.

"Are all your country's ministers this blind?" Kaito asked flatly.

"Slap yourself."

At once, Minister Genbu's body seized. Like Suzaku before him, he raised both hands and began to strike himself across the face.

Crack!

Smack!

Smack!

The echo of self-inflicted punishment filled the reception hall.

Their faces began to swell. Blood trickled from the corners of their mouths, yet neither could stop. Kaito hadn't permitted it.

He turned calmly and took his seat at the head of the room, Kaguya silent beside him.

"Explain."

The soldier assigned to the visiting delegation stepped forward.

"They came over the northern lake, my lord. Claimed it belonged to their nation centuries ago and now demand its return. They're attempting to seize it by force."

"This isn't the first time. That country frequently stirs conflict, provokes neighbours with false claims, and uses those provocations as justification to send in troops."

Kaguya's brows tightened.

"A nation that starts wars at whim... It's intolerable."

Kaito nodded slightly. "You hate it? Then erase it."

His voice was calm, casual, as if he were flicking away an insect.

Then his expression shifted. He reached out with his mind.

In a flash, soldiers began to gather outside.

Kaito, with his mastery of spiritual energy, could summon and communicate more efficiently than even the famed Yamanaka Clan. Soon, ninety-nine soldiers stood in precise formation outside the chamber. With the one already present inside, the number reached a perfect hundred.

Some had received chakra from him months ago. Others were recent selections—men chosen for loyalty, discipline, and aptitude.

Kaito stood before them.

"You were all chosen by me. Some of you already carry the power I granted."

He glanced at the remaining few.

"The rest of you will receive it now."

With a wave of his hand, chakra seeds shot into the recruits. Their bodies jolted as the energy settled within them.

The soldiers' faces lit up with awe and reverence.

"The neighbouring nation has shown its intent. If they disturb peace, then you must protect what is yours. Use this power well."

"Yes, my lord!" they shouted in unison, the sound echoing across the hall.

Kaito nodded and said with quiet authority,"When I arrived, I declared I would bring prosperity to this world.

Three months have passed. The time for change has come.

From today, this land shall be known as the Dragon Kingdom, and its goal is to unify this fractured world.

Go now. Use the strength I have given you. Liberate this land from tyranny.The so-called Land of Others is only the beginning."

—Among the hundred soldiers standing before him, most had only recently acquired chakra. The rest, who had received chakra three months earlier, had barely reached the level of a basic shinobi.

Kaito had not guided them through rigorous training, only instructing them in the fundamentals of chakra control and simple ninjutsu.

But even that was enough.

In a world where true shinobi were unheard of, this handful of empowered individuals was more than enough to destabilise nations.

Night fell.

Under the command of a leader appointed by Kaito, the hundred-man unit set out. Their destination: the capital of the Land of Others.

They had no intention of launching a full-scale assault. Kaito had made it clear—minimise casualties. In this era, the population was the most valuable resource.

The plan was simple: dismantle the enemy from within.

The Land of Others was the dominant military power in the region. Its capital was sprawling and far wealthier than the former Motherland. Within its walls lived its generals, ministers, and the ruling daimyo himself.

Just days earlier, they had held a banquet to celebrate the territory they assumed they would soon conquer, completely unaware that their empire was already crumbling from within.

—In the dead of night, the Dragon Kingdom's soldiers moved in pairs, infiltrating the capital without raising an alarm.

Each team targeted a specific household, homes belonging to the regime's elite.

These officials had private guards, trained from youth to protect them with their lives. But those guards were unprepared for chakra.

One simple genjutsu—a minor illusion—and entire squads of watchmen collapsed without resistance.

What followed was swift and surgical: infiltration, elimination, and extraction. Each target was neutralised in silence. Not a single bodyguard raised an alarm.

By the time dawn approached, every senior minister of the Land of Others was dead, slain in their beds without a whisper of resistance.

—Screams shattered the morning quiet.

A terrified cry rang out from the daimyo's palace.

Guards rushed into the room, but what they saw froze them in place.

Dozens of severed heads had been arranged in a half-circle around the bed—each one unmistakably belonging to a member of the ruling council.

At the foot of the bed sat two grotesquely swollen heads: the ministers Suzaku and Genbu, recently returned from their failed mission to the Motherland.

The daimyo lay dishevelled and humiliated, his hair hacked off and scattered like ash on the sheets.

This was not just a massacre—it was a message.

—"Report!"

A soldier burst into the chamber but stopped cold at the doorway, falling to his knees in shock.

"What is it now?" a guard demanded, barely holding himself together.

The soldier swallowed and stammered, "The... the Dragon Kingdom has sent an envoy. They demand your presence before their 'god'..."

"If you refuse... then what happened here is only the beginning."

Everyone in the room felt it—a sharp, rising dread creeping into their bones. A fear not just of death... but of complete, unstoppable domination.