The gentle, rhythmic swaying of the wooden vessel was the only clock the children needed. Down in the cabin, my three students were slowly rousing themselves from sleep and were devoid of worry. They were not stiff or aching from the rigors of the road. On the contrary, they had been thoroughly spoiled by our time drifting across the ocean. The sailors manning the ship had every rope and sail under complete control, and the weather had blessed us with clear skies that made the voyage effortless. Aside from the chakra exercises and sparring drills I forced upon the kids, for them, this mission had felt less like a dangerous assignment and more like a vacation on a luxury cruise.

  Even our escorts, from the Land of Snow seemed to have lost their edge. The ninjas of the Snow had been tense at the start, making a few attempts to slip away or sabotage us before we left the harbor. However, once we were surrounded by the endless blue horizon of the open ocean, their resistance melted away. They saw little point in causing trouble, both in the literal sense of rocking the boat and the metaphorical sense of angering me while trapped on water. Two of them were currently awake on the deck below, leaning against the railing and exchanging idle chatter while watching the white foam of the waves.

  The sun had not yet fully breached the horizon, painting the sky in hues of bruised purple and pale orange. The port of the Land of Snow was approaching in the distance, a gray smudge against the white landscape that was just beginning to stir with the activity of early risers heading to work.

  Perched atop the highest mast, I observed the waking town. I raised my right hand and curled my index finger and thumb into a circle. By channeling chakra into the gap, I distorted the light passing through it, creating a makeshift lens that magnified my vision. A true master of this art would not need the hand seal; they could simply flood the nerves around their eyes with chakra to achieve the same result. I knew I could learn such a skill if I applied myself, but my schedule was already bursting at the seams. I refused to sacrifice a single second more of my precious leisure time to learn a trick that my hands could already do for free.

  I had a perfectly functional brass telescope in my pouch, yet boredom was a tenacious enemy. Practicing fine chakra control had been my method of killing time for so long that it was now simply instinct. Years ago, maintaining the lens while balancing on one leg atop a swaying mast would have been a challenge. Now, I did it without a second thought. The seagulls sharing the mast with me did not seem impressed. They shuffled their feathers and glared at me with beady eyes, looking thoroughly affronted that a human had dared to invade their territory.

  I ignored the judgment of the birds and reached into my flak jacket to retrieve a sealing scroll. With a pulse of chakra, I forced a small amount of blood from my thumb out through the pores of my skin, streaking a crimson line across the parchment without needing to bite myself. I tossed the scroll into the air and formed a single hand seal.

  Smoke puffed outward, and my signature paper lanterns erupted from the seal like a swarm of glowing fireflies. Within seconds, dozens of the paper constructs were floating upward, defying gravity until I tethered them all together with thin, invisible strings of chakra.

  I funneled my chakra down the lines, manipulating the brightness and movement of the lanterns. They danced in the predawn light, weaving intricate patterns designed to catch the eye of the citizens down on the snowy shore. It took ten minutes, but eventually, a crowd began to form near the docks, their faces turned upward in wonder. In the world of espionage, one could choose to infiltrate like a ghost or arrive like a thunderclap. I had always held a certain bias toward the dramatic approach.

  Before my students could wipe the sleep from their eyes, and more importantly, before the Snow ninjas could compose themselves, I triggered the next phase of the plan.

  "Greetings, glorious citizens of the Land of Snow!"

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  My voice, amplified by chakra, boomed across the water. I leaped from the mast, diving toward the icy waves. In midair, I shot a length of heavy bandage from my wrist, snagging one of the floating lanterns. I used it as a pivot point, swinging through the crisp morning air with the grace and flamboyance of a circus performer. My shout had undoubtedly jolted every ninja on the boat awake, but by the time they scrambled to the deck, I was already soaring away from them.

  The crowd on the docks stirred with anticipation. I released the bandage at the apex of my swing and executed a slow backflip toward the wooden pier. As I fell, I molded chakra over my entire body. The standard transformation technique washed over me. My tactical gear and flak jacket vanished, replaced by an illusion of flamboyant opulence.

  When my slippers touched the wood, I looked nothing like a leaf shinobi. I appeared to be dressed in robes of the finest colorful silk, draped in layers that fluttered in the wind. Gold rings adorned four fingers on each hand, a heavy necklace of emeralds hung around my neck, and a golden crown rested upon my head. None of it was real, of course, but the average fisherman or merchant would never see through the disguise. My face had shifted as well. I now wore the visage I used during my days guarding the Daimyo. It was a youthful face, charming and smooth, but with enough lines around the eyes to suggest experience.

  "I am Amon, an envoy from the hidden Leaf!" I declared, spreading my arms wide to embrace the confused onlookers. "The great and wise Doto Kazahana, the liberator and bringer of justice, has reached out his hand across the sea! He has invited us to witness the wondrous changes he is bringing to your great land. Even the citizens of the Hidden Leaf have heard of your hard revolution and toast every night to your good fortune!"

  I moved among them immediately, shaking hands and clapping shoulders, warming the crowd with sheer charisma. At first, the people were hesitant, put off by my jubilant nature so early in the freezing morning. But flattery is a universal currency. After I complimented their resilience, acknowledged the hardships they had endured, and painted a picture of the golden future awaiting them, the frost in their demeanor began to thaw.

  It did not take long for them to start cheering. They began bragging about the size of their fishing hauls and how tough their lives were, claiming that normal people from the warm lands could never survive the winters here. They spoke with venom about their previous lord, eager to pile every sin of the nation onto his grave.

  It was a simple rule of politics. Everything bad was the fault of the predecessor, and everything good was thanks to the current regime. As long as I tied myself verbally to Doto, the people would see me as an ally.

  I spoke to a cluster of citizens who were now vying for my attention, desperate to be heard by this fancy foreigner. I made sure to steer the conversation toward history. I brought up the history of alliances the Leaf Village held, mentioning our friendships with the Village of Dreams and the Village of Stars. Then, I dropped the bait. I mentioned our ancient, tragic bond with the Village of Whirlpools.

  I watched the crowd like a hawk. The reaction I wanted did not come from the fishermen, but from a man standing at the back. He was dressed in clothing that was far too fine for a dockworker. At the mention of the Whirlpool, his eyes widened, and he immediately turned, walking away with a hurried, nervous gait.

  Got you.

  I needed to know why the previous lord of this land had been investigating the ruins of Uzushiogakure. If I spent days sniffing around for clues myself, Doto would become suspicious. He would see me as a spy and try to use my actions as leverage. But if a local businessman, perhaps a sympathizer of the old regime, reached out to me with the information I wanted? Then I could use that intelligence against Doto instead.

  Out on the water, I could see my ship beginning to dock. My students looked confused, and my Snow ninja escorts looked perturbed with me. I excused myself from my new fans, bowing deeply.

  "I must attend to my entourage," I told the crowd. "But do not fear, for I shall be in your glorious city for a little while!"

  When I regrouped with my team, the students bombarded me with questions, and the leader of the escort began to shout complaints about protocol. I waved them all off with a careless flick of my wrist. I claimed I was simply too eager to meet the locals and had decided to introduce myself early. I then feigned exhaustion, complaining loudly that the voyage had drained me. I decided, on behalf of everyone, that we would not travel to the castle immediately. Instead, we would stay at a local inn while the Snow ninja organized safe and comfortable transport.

  The escort captain gritted his teeth but informed me it would take a handful of days to arrange the armored carriage. That suited me perfectly. It would buy time for the news of "Amon the Envoy of Fire" to spread throughout the frozen country. I had paid Doto lip service, and as the saying went, news traveled fast.

  If anyone possessed the information I needed, or if anyone wanted to use me to gain favor with Doto, or perhaps even escape from this frozen prison to seek asylum in the Leaf, they now knew exactly where to find me.

  Furthermore, I intended to use my downtime wisely. Just as I had done with the sailors, a little medical ninjutsu and some sealing scripts would make for a wonderful bribe to the local staff at the inn. Even the Snow ninja had not proven themselves to be fiercely loyal to their new master.

  With my flashy entrance, I had placed my piece on the board. Now it was up to Lord Doto to make his move. Would he see me as an enemy to be crushed, or as an opportunity to legitimize his stolen throne? I looked forward to finding out.