Chapter 49 — Fame Spreads Beyond Borders
While Minamoto Ren and Namikaze Minato were keeping constant tabs on Hanegawa—quietly plotting how to take one of Danzō's legs—
the Anbu agents codenamed "Hannya" and "Sun" had already entered the sights of the highest decision-makers in every shinobi village.
They couldn't help it.
The Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist were simply too famous.
Kirigakure had long touted itself as the "Bloody Mist," a crucible where only the deadliest shinobi survived.
The Seven Swordsmen were its ultimate product—its sharpest blades, its tallest mountain, its longest river.
Kirigakure boasted so loudly the echoes could be heard across nations.
And then, in one battle, two Konoha operatives had ripped that banner to shreds.
There was nothing left to say.
Naturally, attention shifted away from the Swordsmen—
and onto the shinobi who had killed them all.
---
Amegakure, Land of Rain.
In a rain-soaked city, Hanzō of the Salamander tapped his mask with one finger, silently listening to the Anbu operative in front of him.
The man's codename was "Peace."
Peace had come to report on the matter of the Seven Swordsmen.
"That's the situation, Lord Hanzō. Two Konoha Anbu, Hannya and Sun, used methods we could not observe to kill all seven members of the Swordsmen."
The man's shock of orange hair was obvious even under the dripping mask. His voice was calm and steady.
Hanzō said nothing, his silence as heavy as a mountain.
Peace concluded his report, bowed, and turned to leave.
Just as he pushed the door open—
"If it had been you," Hanzō's voice cut through the rain, "you and Coil against the Seven Swordsmen… could you have done the same?"
Peace froze in the doorway. A flicker of lightning lit his mask for an instant.
"We would die. But… if Coil used his eyes, we might kill one of them."
Hanzō gave no response.
Peace departed.
Only after a long silence did Hanzō rise from his seat.
When he removed his hood, the black hair beneath was already streaked with gray.
"The Three Great Sannin… Hannya… Sun…" he muttered bitterly. "If only Konoha's geniuses were born in the Rain."
---
Kirigakure, Land of Water.
Inside a black-brick tower, the Mizukage's office was suffocating with tension.
How could it not be?
Their pride—the Seven Swordsmen—had gone out in full strength: seven men, seven legendary blades.
Now, in the dead of night, the Mizukage unsealed the scrolls…
The seven blades had returned. The men had not.
This had been their first deployment.
And it ended in annihilation.
How would the other villages see Kirigakure now?
What merchant caravan would dare entrust them with a mission after this?
"Find out those two's true identities," the Mizukage ordered coldly.
"And raise the bounty on the black market—one grade higher."
The Third Mizukage had a headache.
He couldn't make sense of it.
With the Seven Swordsmen's strength, even if Danzō had betrayed them mid-battle, they might lose in a fight—but escape should have been possible.
Yet here they were—wiped out to the last man.
"Yes, Mizukage-sama."
The clan head of the Hōzuki nodded mechanically, but his eyes were empty.
The brightest prodigy of his clan had just been butchered by some stray Anbu wilddog from Konoha.
Where was the justice in that?
But beyond raising their bounty on the black market, there was nothing else they could do.
---
Similar scenes were playing out across the ninja world—
with one exception: Kumogakure.
The Cloud had long feared the Seven Swordsmen might one day cross the sea to raid their shores.
Now that Konoha had done the job for them, they could practically pop a bottle of champagne.
That didn't stop them from quietly gathering intelligence on Ren and Namikaze Minato,
building a dossier on Konoha's rising prodigies.
---
Meanwhile, those two "rising prodigies" were blissfully unaware,
dutifully carrying out Anbu missions without a clue that their names were being whispered across every major village.
After the "Konoha Gold" mission, Hiruzen Sarutobi had promised them a reward.
So far? A stack of silver notes, and nothing else.
Frankly, Ren was furious.
They'd just pulled in an extra hundred million in war funds for Konoha by risking their necks—
then turned around and single-handedly took down the Seven Ninja Swordsmen in a clean, spectacular victory.
And the thanks they got?
Pocket change.
Without at least an S-rank jutsu, this matter would not be over.
---
That day, Hiruzen summoned Ren and Minato to his office.
The old man had finally remembered they still needed to choose their jutsu.
Ren had barely finished his morning shift before dragging Minato along—still in uniform.
You didn't dawdle when picking a jutsu; it was a milestone, a new direction in one's development. It had to be chosen with care.
But the good mood evaporated the moment they stepped in and saw Danzō sitting beside Hiruzen,
a small side table set up in front of him, his shadowed eyes watching them like a hawk.
---
Hiruzen didn't notice the shift in their expressions—he had bigger problems.
Sunagakure was growing restless, Ame was showing signs of instability, and his attention was stretched thin by military concerns.
Clamping his pipe between his teeth, he spoke vaguely through the smoke:
"Half an hour. Pick any jutsu from the Scroll of Seals—except the last five pages. Anything else is fair game."
Then he stood, cracked his back, and went outside for a smoke.
Ren and Minato exchanged a smile.
The last five pages? Ren didn't even need to look to know what was there—
probably things like Edo Tensei, those bugged-out forbidden techniques.
Not that Edo Tensei was as great as it sounded—weak summons were useless, strong ones could break free, and the caster was always at risk of being used as a puppet. Right, Kabuto?
Dead is dead. Dragging someone's will back into the living world was, at its core, nothing but an insult to the living.
---
"What are you going to pick?"
Ignoring Danzō's brooding stare, Ren asked Minato.
"Haven't decided yet. Probably something to boost my speed. When we fought the Seven Swordsmen, I realized my close-quarters game is way too weak."
Minato's golden hair swayed slightly as he spoke, deep in thought.
"Hmph. Pathetic," Danzō sneered. "A shinobi who sees a weakness and thinks of running away instead of fixing it."
Minato stayed silent—he knew if he opened his mouth, he might just start a fight.
The old relic was just too damn irritating.
Ren shot Danzō a sidelong glance.
"And what's the specialty of the Hokage's 'advisor'? I heard you used to be good at running—right up until you ran yourself out of the Hokage's seat. That true?"
"You—!"
Danzō shot to his feet, face flushed red.
The one thing he hated most was anyone bringing up his fateful hesitation in the past.
If not for that moment of doubt, his and Hiruzen's positions might well have been reversed.
"Sit down. You're old—accept it. And if you're going to take a hit, at least stand firm."
Ren's tone was pure provocation.
After all, this was the Hokage's office.
If Danzō dared to make a move, Hiruzen and Enma would be here in thirty seconds flat.
And under the Hokage's nose, no one was dying today.
---