Chapter 334: The Upheaval in Konoha, and Hiruzen Sarutobi's Fury
One day later.
The towering wooden gates of Konohagakure loomed majestically against the clear sky, casting long, imposing shadows over the dirt road.
Three travel-stained figures materialized at the village entrance, their cloaks caked in the dust of a long journey. To the untrained eye, they looked no different from the countless wandering merchants who flocked to Konoha to post escort missions.
The man leading the trio was Hiruzen Sarutobi. Disguised beneath the weathered, unassuming features of a middle-aged merchant, he slowly lifted his head to gaze at the familiar yet deeply alien archway. A chaotic storm of emotions churned in his chest.
"I... I have returned," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.
Beside him stood Senju Tobirama, cloaked in the guise of a lean, hardened caravan guard. He kept his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his face carved from stern granite, and his crimson eyes darting with sharp, unrelenting scrutiny.
Rounding out the group was Senju Hashirama. Wearing the honest, sun-beaten face of a simple farmer, he craned his neck in every direction, his eyes wide with the fresh, uncontainable wonder of a child seeing the world for the first time.
A cold, authoritative shout abruptly shattered their quiet observation.
Two shinobi clad in pitch-black combat attire flickered into existence, their sudden arrival blocking the trio's path. The metallic clink of their gear rang out sharply. But it was the insignia embroidered across the backs of their uniform collars that drew the eye—a striking, unmistakable red and white fan.
The Uchiha crest.
Tobirama's brows instantly crashed together, forming a deep, severe frown. In his era, he had deliberately suppressed the Uchiha Clan, confining them to the Military Police Force so they could only police the internal streets of the village. Now, they had actually seized control of Konoha's most critical gateway.
"Who are you? State your business in Konoha," one of the Uchiha shinobi demanded, stepping forward. His tone was strictly business, devoid of even a sliver of warmth.
Hiruzen quickly swallowed his shock and forced his facial muscles into the fawning, overly polite smile characteristic of a traveling merchant.
"Ah, greetings, Shinobi-sama! We are humble merchants hailing from the capital of the Land of Fire. Word has spread far and wide that Konoha is currently the safest and most prosperous haven in the entire Ninja World, so we made the journey specifically to post a long-term escort mission."
As he spoke, Hiruzen bowed his head slightly, subtly sliding a carefully forged identity document into the guard's waiting hand.
The Uchiha shinobi took the scroll, his dark eyes scanning the ink with practiced precision. He examined the seals carefully, then exchanged a brief, silent glance with his partner. Only after confirming the document's flawless authenticity did he offer a curt nod.
"Go in." He handed the papers back. "Remember to abide by Konoha's laws. The Military Police Force does not tolerate disturbances."
With that, the two Uchiha turned their backs, completely ignoring the disguised legends as their figures blurred, returning to their hidden posts high above the gates.
Tobirama let out a low, icy snort, his displeasure thickening the air around him. "The Uchiha Clan remains full of arrogant, ill-mannered brats."
Hiruzen, however, remained entirely silent. Beneath his merchant facade, his heart was pounding against his ribs like a war drum.
Was this still the Uchiha Clan he remembered? The clan he and Danzo had pushed to the absolute brink of ruin?
Uchiha Akira...
The three men passed beneath the massive archway, officially stepping onto the paved streets of Konoha.
Instantly, a wave of vibrant, overwhelming prosperity washed over them. The air was thick with the savory aroma of roasting meats and sweet dango. Storefronts were packed with customers, and the streets flowed with a steady stream of foot traffic. Every face they passed—civilian and shinobi alike—carried a genuine, relaxed smile. There was no underlying tension, no shadow of war.
Hashirama took in the bustling scene, a broad, relieved grin breaking across his disguised features.
"Oho! Not bad at all! The village looks incredibly lively!" He laughed, clapping his hands together. "It seems this Uchiha Akira, the Fifth Hokage, has managed the village exceptionally well!"
Tobirama did not offer a single word of praise. His sharp eyes carefully dissected his surroundings. The villagers walking these streets possessed an exceptionally vibrant spirit. The shinobi moving across the rooftops moved with crisp, confident efficiency. This was, without a doubt, the hallmark of a militarily and economically dominant hidden village.
Yet, as they walked deeper into the settlement, the cold knot in Hiruzen's stomach only tightened.
Everything here was too unfamiliar. The layout of the shops, the repaired infrastructure, the sheer lack of the old, decaying shadows he had once presided over. It was so foreign that a creeping sense of dread began to claw at his throat.
Seeking a familiar anchor, Hiruzen subconsciously lifted his gaze.
His eyes tracked past the newly renovated buildings, searching the horizon until they landed on the distant, towering rock face that had always symbolized the village's glory and the Will of Fire.
The Hokage Rock.
The moment his eyes focused on the mountain, Hiruzen's entire body seized. A violent tremor wracked his frame.
"That... that is..."
Carved into the colossal mountain wall were the majestic, towering visages of the village's leaders.
First Hokage, Senju Hashirama.
Second Hokage, Senju Tobirama.
Fourth Hokage, Namikaze Minato.
Hiruzen's breath hitched. His hands curled into tight fists, his fingernails biting painfully into his palms. He stared at the smooth, unblemished stone between the Second and the Fourth.
'Where is my statue?''Why... why is mine missing?!'
On the Hokage Rock, the lineage read from left to right: First Generation, Second Generation, and then... it skipped directly to the Fourth Generation.
The position that rightfully belonged to him—the legacy of Hiruzen Sarutobi, the longest-reigning Hokage—had been completely eradicated.
An uncontrollable, blistering rage erupted from the deepest recesses of Hiruzen's soul, flooding his veins with liquid fire.
Uchiha Akira had not merely seized his hat and slaughtered him. The boy had systematically erased every single trace of his existence from the annals of the village. He was a ghost in his own home.
"Monkey, what is wrong with you?"
Noticing the sudden, dangerous spike in his disciple's chakra, Tobirama stepped closer, his voice dropping to a sharp, commanding hiss.
"Calm yourself!" Tobirama ordered, his eyes narrowing. "Do you wish to expose our identities right here in the open?"
The harsh reprimand hit Hiruzen like a bucket of freezing water, instantly snapping him out of his blinding fury. He jolted, quickly ducking his head to hide his contorted expression. He dragged in several ragged breaths, forcefully shoving the monstrous killing intent back down into his chest.
After a long, agonizing moment, he finally managed to speak, his voice a hoarse, grating rasp.
"N-nothing." He swallowed hard. "We... we need to visit a certain place first."
Without waiting for a response, Hiruzen turned on his heel. His steps were heavy, driven by a desperate, frantic need.
'The Sarutobi Clan compound...''My clansmen!''No matter what Akira has done to my legacy, I must contact my bloodline first!'
This was his only remaining lifeline. As long as the Sarutobi Clan still drew breath, as long as the noble families who had once sworn absolute loyalty to him remained, he still had a foundation. He still had a chance to reclaim his village.
He handled the streets purely by muscle memory, weaving through the expanded commercial districts until he arrived at the sprawling, premium sector of land that had belonged to the Sarutobi Clan for decades.
Hiruzen stopped dead in his tracks. It felt as though a lightning bolt had struck him directly in the chest, freezing the blood in his veins.
It was gone.
Everything was gone.
The vast, imposing clan compound that had once occupied the very core of Konoha—the ultimate symbol of the Sarutobi Clan's unrivaled glory and political dominance—had vanished without a single trace.
In its place stood a carefully organized, high-end commercial district. Bright banners fluttered in the wind, merchants shouted their daily specials, and civilians browsed through storefronts built directly over the soil where his family had lived and trained.
There was not a single Sarutobi crest in sight. It was as if his prominent, sprawling clan had never existed on this earth.
"No... impossible..."
Hiruzen's eyes glazed over, turning completely hollow. He looked like a man whose soul had been violently ripped from his body.
Refusing to accept this reality, he spun around and broke into a desperate sprint toward another sector of the village.
The former Shimura clan compound.
He arrived panting, his lungs burning. He stared at the bustling streets. It, too, had been leveled and converted into a thriving market district, identical to the fate of the Sarutobi lands.
Hiruzen's legs nearly gave out. He stumbled, his steps faltering as he numbly turned toward the final direction.
The Utatane compound. Koharu's family.
Gone. Erased. Paved over.
"Clan extermination..."
Hiruzen's voice was barely a ghost of a whisper, trembling with a mixture of absolute horror and despair. "He actually... he exterminated every single family that opposed him..."
Slowly, agonizingly, Hiruzen turned around to face his former master.
"Nidaime-sama..."
Tobirama stood in silence, his sharp eyes taking in the bustling markets that now sat atop the graves of his political successors.
"The Sarutobi Clan... is gone," Hiruzen choked out, his shoulders sagging under an invisible, crushing weight. "The Shimura clan... is also gone. And the Utatane clan..."
Hiruzen took a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes wide and bloodshot. "They were all wiped out by Uchiha Akira! Konoha... the Konoha we knew is no longer ours. Everything... we must plan everything carefully."
Tobirama's face darkened to an absolute, terrifying extreme.
He had always detested Hiruzen's indecisiveness, his weakness, and his hypocritical double standards. But despite all those flaws, Sarutobi was still his chosen disciple., the Shimura clan was a militant faction he had personally supported and elevated during his own reign to balance the village's power dynamics.
Now, these foundational pillars—the very forces he had cultivated to protect the village from the shadows—had been completely uprooted and slaughtered by an Uchiha brat.
"Let's go," Tobirama commanded, his voice dropping to a glacial, deadly chill.
He turned away from the bustling market, his crimson eyes flashing with cold calculation. "We will find a secure location. We need to clarify the current situation, uncover every single detail of what transpired here, before we make our next move."
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