After fusing Hashirama Senju's Sage Body and unlocking Whitebeard's Conqueror's Haki, Ren trained a bit more before leaving the hidden canyon.
By the ti he returned to Konoha, it was already late afternoon.
The setting sun washed the freshly repaired Hokage Rock in gold. The massive stone faces looked almost alive—sharp, vivid, and imposing.
"Efficient, huh…"
Ren glanced at it from a distance and sighed softly.
"Patch the surface all you want—it doesn't change the darkness under Konoha's so-called Will of Fire."
With that, he vanished in a blur, heading straight for the Uchiha District.
Because he'd been promoted to Elite Jōnin, Fugaku had granted him a few days off. For now, he didn't have to report to the Military Police.
But the mont he reached the clan grounds, a Uchiha Jōnin stopped him.
" Uchiha Ren. Clan Head Fugaku requests your presence at a eting."
The man's expression was complicated.
"A clan council?"
Ren's lips curled slightly. "Got it."
The Jōnin didn't say anything else. He flickered away.
Half an hour later—
Inside a large eting hall in the heart of the Uchiha District.
Fugaku sat at the head seat in formal clan attire, eyes closed, calm and unreadable.
On both sides sat the Uchiha elders—high-ranking clan leadership.
Since this was a clan council, no one wore the Military Police uniform. Everyone here wore traditional robes marked with the Uchiha crest.
After a long silence, Fugaku opened his eyes.
"Bring Uchiha Ren in."
The room went dead quiet instantly.
Everyone here knew the truth:
This eting existed because of Ren.
Normally, a Uchiha becoming an Elite Jōnin would be cause for celebration. Even in a powerhouse clan, Elite Jōnin were top-end combat strength.
But there was one detail that made certain elders grind their teeth—
Ren was a pure taijutsu specialist.
To so of them, it wasn't just strange.
It was humiliating.
Everyone knew what the Uchiha took pride in: the Sharingan.
And now a taijutsu-only Elite Jōnin had appeared.
To part of the clan, it felt like a slap in the face.
Bang.
Ren pushed open the eting hall doors and walked in.
He scanned the room, then shook his head lightly.
So it begins.
These elders were essentially the Uchiha version of Konoha's council—figures like Koharu and Homura—people who "advised" Fugaku while gripping the clan's direction by the throat.
Ren didn't bother with polite formalities.
The instant he stepped forward—
his presence rolled out.
Not chakra.
Not a bloodline aura.
A brutal, sharpened pressure—sothing born from a body refined beyond normal limits.
With each step, that pressure thickened, cutting through the hall like a blade.
The elders' expressions changed one by one.
Because right now, Ren felt like a mountain dropping into the room—
pressing down until breathing turned heavy.
Finally, the elder seated closest to Fugaku on the left—an old man with a hard gaze—snapped.
" Uchiha Ren! Why don't you train ninjutsu and chakra properly? Why aren't you focusing on the Sharingan?!"
That was the spark.
The left-side elders erupted as if they'd been waiting for permission.
"Exactly! Don't you understand the Sharingan is the pride of the Uchiha?!"
"Taijutsu is low-class!"
"You're disgracing the clan!"
"Only those who train ninjutsu, chakra, and awaken the Sharingan deserve to be called Uchiha!"
Voices piled on voices, loud enough to rattle the hall.
Ren paused before taking his seat.
He looked at the loudest elders like he was watching animals fight over scraps.
Then he sighed.
"Why bother?"
He glanced at Fugaku—who still hadn't spoken—then at the silent elders who weren't joining the attack.
A cold glint passed through Ren's eyes.
And then, in a tone so flat it felt like ice scraping stone, he said:
"Shut up. All of you."
Silence.
Instant, suffocating silence.
The elders who'd been shouting froze like their throats had been clamped shut. Not one of them managed to force out another word.
The old man nearest Fugaku—the one everyone treated as the Great Elder—
went pale with fury.
No one had ever spoken to him like that.
Not once.
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