Fugaku's departing back disappeared at the end of the training ground. That meaningful sentence stirred ripples in the hearts of the fifty-plus civilian Ninja.

Nervousness, anxiety, unease.

These emotions spread through the crowd. They looked at Kei, the youth who had pulled them out of the mud, now shouldering a bet that was almost impossible to win. One month, using this group of mediocrities forgotten by the clan to confront the true elites of the Military Police Force.

This sounded more like a joke.

Kei turned around, his calm gaze sweeping over every face filled with worry. There were no inspiring words, nor any ethereal promises; he simply took a thick stack of papers from his chest and walked to the center of the training ground.

"Everyone still willing to stay, come to me now."

The voice was not loud, but it had a strange penetrating power that instantly suppressed all discussions.

The fifty-plus clan members looked at each other, hesitating for a moment. Finally, led by Uchiha Kenji and the youth named Uchiha Hikari, everyone, without a single one retreating, stepped forward and surrounded Kei in the center.

They chose to stay. Not because they believed they could win, but because for the first time in their lives, someone was willing to bet everything on the future of this group of "trash."

Looking at these clan members whose eyes were mixed with determination and confusion, Kei distributed the papers in his hand to them.

"This is a thirty-day training schedule, from today until the day before the match."

Everyone took the papers, looked down, and their breath hitched. On that piece of paper, an extremely precise table planned what needed to be done every hour of every day for the next thirty days. From the weighted cross-country run at five in the morning, to strength and conditioning training in the morning, to tactical coordination drills in the afternoon, and finally review and medicinal baths at night.

The density of the training projects and the terrifying intensity were unprecedented.

"Twelve hours of training every day, with only two short breaks for meals and rest in between. Anyone who is late, leaves early, or fails to complete the daily training quota will be directly eliminated." Kei's voice carried no emotion. "I will say it again, this training is no child's play. I will push your bodies and spirits to the limit, and even beyond the limit. There will be people injured, people vomiting, and people crying and wanting to give up."

"Now, I give you one last chance to choose. Those who cannot accept this can leave immediately. I will not blame you at all."

No one moved.

In their chests, it was as if a fire had been ignited.

"Very good." Kei nodded. "Then, 'The Moon of the Crucible,' starts now!"

With the order given, this forgotten training ground in the back mountains of the Uchiha Clan Compound became a veritable crucible.

On the first day, physical conditioning was pushed to the limit. Everyone was required to tie lead weights engraved with basic gravity seals to their limbs and conduct a ten-kilometer cross-country run. These Ninja, used to being pampered within the clan, had never experienced such pure physical torture. Less than three kilometers in, some started to fall behind, gasping for air, feeling as if their lungs were about to explode.

Kei followed at the back of the team, expressionless.

A youth's legs gave out, and he fell to the ground, unable to climb back up, panting as he said: "Kei, Teacher Kei... I, I can't do it anymore..."

Kei walked up to him, looking down at him from above, and asked: "On the battlefield, will the enemy stop and wait for you just because you can't run anymore?"

The youth was speechless.

"Get up."

The simple two words made the youth's body tremble. He gritted his teeth, used all his strength, stood up again, and stumbled to catch up with the team.

The cross-country run ended, and there was no rest. Everyone immediately threw themselves into extreme push-ups and conditioning training. Heavy sandbags struck the members' abdomens and chests, one after another. They were required to tighten their cores and use their muscles to withstand it. Every impact made them feel as if their internal organs were churning. Uchiha Kenji, this former elite, did it more standardly and worked harder than anyone else. He had personally experienced the terror of Kei's new taijutsu and knew better than anyone that this seemingly primitive training was the only way to forge a strong body.

His persistence became the best example.

A week later, everyone's physical fitness hit a bottleneck. Muscles were sore, spirits were exhausted, and their bodies felt hollowed out. It was at this time that Kei brought out the second set of plans: scientific guidance.

He used the system's analytical capabilities to establish a detailed data file for each member.

"Uchiha Hikari, your punch power generation is too tense in the shoulders, causing twenty percent of the force to be lost during transmission. Remember, use your waist to drive your shoulders, not your arms to swing."

"Kenji, your whip kick speed is sufficient, but the retraction movement is too slow; this is a fatal flaw on the battlefield. You need to strengthen the explosive power and control of your leg muscles."

Kei's guidance was precise to every detail and every angle. He could even accurately judge their physical hidden injuries and weaknesses by observing the opponent's Chakra flow, and then configure different medicinal baths for targeted conditioning. This almost "omniscient" teaching method made everyone feel unprecedented conviction, and without any further doubt, they devoted themselves wholeheartedly to it.

In the third week, tactical indoctrination began. After everyone's physical fitness and basic combat skills had undergone a qualitative leap, Kei began to instill the true core of the "Assault Style" in them: team coordination.

"Remember, from today on, you are no longer individuals! You are a whole, a monster with thirty hearts and sixty arms!"

On the training ground, Kei divided the members into groups of three and began to conduct squad coordination drills. Feints, containment, flanking, and splitting. These modern tactical concepts were unheard of for the Ninja of this era. They were accustomed to relying on individual ability to fight alone; they had never imagined that three Genin with mediocre strength could, through exquisite coordination, play an opponent with strength far exceeding theirs in the palm of their hands.

Kei personally joined the fray as their hypothetical enemy. He would sometimes use the Body Flicker Technique to move at high speed, and other times use simple genjutsu to interfere. At first, the members' coordination was full of holes, and he easily broke them one by one. But Kei did not scold them; he just calmly reviewed after every failure.

"In that encirclement just now, the distance between the number three and number four positions was too great, giving me space to break through."

"The feint group's attack intent was too obvious; it didn't serve as a distraction."

Through repeated failures and reviews, the tacit understanding of this team improved at a speed visible to the naked eye. They learned to communicate with their eyes and learned to convey complex tactical intentions with the simplest gestures.

Although the training was arduous, Kei lived and ate with them. He ate the same food as them, shed as much sweat as them, and even personally demonstrated in the conditioning training, enduring the same strikes. This leading by example was far more capable of uniting hearts than any words.

A month passed in a flash. When the day before the match arrived, these thirty Uchiha Ninja had undergone a rebirth.

They stood neatly on the training ground, their figures as straight as pines, and from everyone, an air of tenacity and murderous intent honed in blood and fire radiated. Their movements were uniform, acting as one. They were no longer a group of "ragtag troops" forgotten by the clan, but a disciplined, iron-willed army of a hundred battles.

Meanwhile, at the headquarters of the Military Police Force on the other side of the Uchiha Clan Compound, the five elites who were about to participate in the match were leaning against the wall, lazily basking in the sun.

"Have you heard? That bunch of dead-last losers seem to have been training quite hard this past month."

"What's the use of working hard? A bunch of trash who can't even fully awaken the Three-Tomoe, could they turn into Jonin in a month?"

"Heh, it's just Uchiha Kei grandstanding. Tomorrow, let's show them what a true Uchiha elite is."