[Land of Iron, Frostwind Estate]
The Third Kazekage led Danzo's entourage to a sprawling samurai compound nestled between jagged ice cliffs, its slate-gray walls etched with centuries of blizzard scars. The estate belonged to Kira Frostwind, the head of the Land of Iron's northern garrison—a man whose loyalty to tradition was as unyielding as the permafrost beneath his boots.
Strong.
This was Danzo's first impression of the man. Despite not being famous, Kira was an elder with elite jonin level strength. In his prime, his strength must have been at least semi-kage level. To Danzo, it was akin to a shock.
The Frostwind was proud, but the damaged uniforms worn by the disciples betrayed precarity. Their blades seemed worn out too. As for the children? Skinny, almost malnourrished. Samurai did not sell their services like shinobi. They benefitted from trade and protection fees, but in the cold weather of the frostwind estate, their only source of income was taxes, taxes that had become increasingly scarce.
'Will I begin to decrease in strength too when I reach 40? Immortality...Rin did sacrifice her potential for this, but maybe I could inspire myself of the bests to turn myself into something...more eternal. Reincarnation is one way to achieve this. Biological evolution? So far, they only strengthened me, and cut away at my lifespan, much less increased it...', Danzo mused
Kira greeted them in a courtyard where katanas hung like icicles from training dummies. His gaze lingered on Danzo's apathic gaze and Rin's unnervingly still posture: "Shinobi from the land of rice, huh...Takeshi talked at length about you" he rumbled, pouring tea steeped with pine needles. "Your glass trade has warmed our coffers, but do not mistake commerce for camaraderie. If not for Takeshi's and the third kazekage's goodwill, I would not have let you in my estate. Otogakure is evil, and I despise its essence"
Harumi and Rin frowned, revealing bloodlust, but Danzo remained calm: "May I enquire what makes you say that?"
Kira met Danzo's stare, devoid of anger: "Your emotions, your aura...They all reek of death. The Forstwind has a...bloodline release, as you call it. Nothing fancy, but we have one more sense. A sense of how evil people are. You three are most formidable, I must admit. You seem to possess the will to make Oto great, and there is a bit of good in it. But your obsession...It is worrying. Your aura is the most vile I have ever seen"
[I concur...You are one piece of evil condensed in human form], the four-tails shouted inside Danzo's head, soon suppressed by the forbidden soul seals
Danzo sipped the bitter brew, unfazed. "You struggle to find a worthy heir. You serve the Iron Guardians with honor. Yet I hear your smiths struggle to replicate chakra-forged blades. Your domain is falling in ruins. A pity. At this rate, your legacy will vanish"
Kira's face whitened: "Our methods are pure. We do not dilute steel with shinobi tricks."
"Purity starves progress" Danzo countered. He nodded to Rin, who unsealed a lacquered box. Inside lay a shimmering katana—its edge humming with wind-release chakra: "Forged by the Shimura Clan. My smiths blend samurai discipline with fuinjutsu. They are kenjutsu expert too. Imagine equipping your garrison with such blades… without sacrificing honor"
The samurai lord's resolve flickered.
Harumi slithered forward, her voice a honeyed threat. "Why cling to antique ideals when Oto offers power? The Shimura Clan's kenjutsu scrolls could elevate your swordsmen beyond mere foot soldiers. Or…" She gestured to the horizon, where Suna's sand caravans snaked through the tundra. "The wealth, the technology...You but have seen a glimpse of it. Join us, and your clan will be elevated among the strongest. I believe my offer stands strong. You are in no position to refuse"
Kira's jaw tightened. The Land of Iron's economy hinged on taxing Suna-Oto trade routes. Despite this, the population had decreased so much after the second shinobi war that the debts were piling up, profits failing to make up for the interests. Losing the routes would cripple his people—a dishonor far worse than compromise. It was more of a threat than a proposal.
Danzo pressed his advantage. "Join us. Open a dojo in Oto. Become the seventh outer clan of Oto, and in return…" He slid a contract across the table, its clauses glowing with promise:
Shimura smiths would teach chakra-forging to Frostwind apprentices.
Political marriage to produce a worthy heir
A monthly allowance for all clan members.
The samurai lord stared at the parchment, torn between pride and pragmatism. "You ask me to betray my homeland's neutrality"
"Neutrality?", Rin laughed, her stitches creaking,"The Raikage nearly declared war in your sacred hall, and if not for Suna and Oto's alliance, the world would have been polarized in a bloody conflict, again. The strong dictate neutrality"
"How could I trust you? Your aura is so evil, rumours have you depicted as a demon. A samurai's pledge is no small matter"
Silence hung like a blade.
"Trust me? No...I would not trust myself either", Danzo laughed, his antics amusing the third kazekage, "trust my interests. Otogakure benefits from peace. The more trade there is, the more resources flock to Oto no Kami and my laboratories. Believe me, if I needed conflict, the world would be plunged into war already"
Then Kira gripped the contract—and sliced his thumb across it. "But know this, Otokage," he growled. "My swords answer to my code. Not your schemes."
Danzo smiled. "Naturally"
A new clan had sworn allegiance to Otogakure. It was a small clan. Eight hundred men and women, only one hundred of which were combat-ready, the rest being civilians.
To Danzo, however, this was a bet. Otogakure possessed a few specialties. Famous for its fuinjutsu and its trade, its combat however relied on something much rarer: kenjutsu. Besides kirigakure, few hidden villages possessed a kenjutsu legacy that could compare to Otogakure.
The Frostwind clan did not interest Danzo much, in terms of power alone. However, its legacy of swordsmanship...It could benefit all kenjutsu shinobi in the village.
The Third Kazekage observed the interactions with amusement.
'The Otokage is a worrisome character...Every action strives at increasing Oto's standing in this world...Perhaps this is the way it has become such a great power in the continent...', he mused
Little did he know, for the Kazekage was about to witness unprecedented changes.
[Twenty Years Later]
Danzo had become a legend, a figure woven into the very fabric of the continent's new order. Otogakure's crest—a single, unblinking eye within a circle—was not just a symbol of a hidden village; it was the logo of the world's largest bank, its most advanced shipping conglomerate, and its premier manufacturer of chakra-conductive alloys. It was stamped on medical supplies in Konoha, on agricultural machinery in the Land of Earth, and on the standardized railway tracks that now connected the great nations.
He had won the game of shinobi not by burning their villages to the ground, but by holding the deed to the land they were built on.
The other Kage were not disposed of; they were demoted to regional managers, their military budgets and infrastructure projects subject to the approval of the Oto-based World Economic Council, which Danzo chaired for life. Their shinobi still took missions, but the most lucrative contracts—disaster relief, infrastructure security, escort—were funneled through Oto's global network. To refuse was to have their credit rating slashed, their interest rates on national debts skyrocket, and their access to life-saving technology and trade routes severed.
The Frostwind Dojo stood as the centerpiece of Otogakure's Kenjutsu District, its halls echoing with the disciplined shouts of students from every nation. Kira Frostwind, though his hair had turned the color of fresh snow, stood straighter and prouder than he had in decades. His clan was wealthy, respected, and their techniques had been integrated into Oto's core curriculum, preserving their legacy by sharing it.
His grandson, a prodigy born of the political marriage Danzo had arranged, was the captain of the Otokage's personal guard, his twin blades, one of the seven legendary blades of Kirigakure, were now part of Oto's collection. In his hands, steel that hummed with both wind and lightning release, not even the Mizukage could take it back, much less any of the current seven legendary swordsmen of the mist.
Danzo himself sat in a silent observation chamber high in the central spire of Oto, a structure of gleaming black stone and shimmering fuinjutsu arrays. He watched holographic displays scroll with real-time economic and intelligence data from across the continent.
The body he inhabited was no longer entirely human. His pursuit of biological evolution had reached its zenith: his cells were in a state of perfect stasis, neither aging nor decaying, fueled by a combination of Hashirama's DNA, the soul-sealing techniques that had fully subsumed the Four-Tails' consciousness, and a hundred other refinements.
He was immortal. He was eternal. He was Oto.
A soft chime announced a visitor. The Third Kazekage, now an elder advisor to the puppet ruler Danzo had installed in Suna, entered the room. He looked much the same, his iron dust ever at the ready, but his eyes held a deep, weary respect for the man he had once considered a mere ally of convenience. As time passed, the third kazekage had earned scars and his expression showed the dignified appearance of a leader who had been part of something grand.
That something grand, however, originated from Danzo's limitless ambition.
"The Land of Lightning has accepted the terms," the Kazekage reported, his voice echoing slightly in the vast room. "Their last independent shipping company has been acquired. The A-1 Railway will break ground next month, connecting Kumo directly to our network. The Raikage signed the agreement himself."
Danzo did not turn from the displays. "And his demeanor?"
"Defeated. He finally understands. There are no more battles to fight. Only contracts to honor."
A rare, thin smile touched Danzo's lips.
It was not a expression of joy, but of finality. The last piece of the puzzle had clicked into place. There would be no Third Great Shinobi War. There would be no grand, final battle. His victory was absolute, secured not with a bang, but with a quietly signed document and the silent, inexorable pressure of economic inevitability.
The world was at peace. A cold, calculated, and utterly controlled peace, but peace nonetheless. Hunger and poverty were at an all-time low across the continent. Major conflict was obsolete.
The shinobi world, once a bloody cycle of hatred and revenge, had been shackled by prosperity and debt, its violent instincts neutered by the sheer comfort of its subjugation.
Danzo's apathic gaze swept over the holographic map of his domain—a continent united under the banner of a single, unblinking eye.
He had not just built a village. He had built a system. A perfect, self-sustaining engine of order where every nation, every village, every person had a role to play, a debt to service, and a place within his design.
The game was over. Danzo Shimura, the Otokage, had won.
And now, he would rule forever.
There would be no massacre, no reincarnation of some alien beasts, no revival of the ten-tails.
He had become the world's peace guardian. One who had transcended the realm of kage. One who never stopped growing.