The following afternoon.
Kashimo stood in a crude, open-air training ground, facing a crooked line of children in their teens. The oldest looked no more than sixteen or seventeen. The youngest stood at the end of the line, barely reaching his waist, gazing up at him with bright, shining eyes.
A hot wind swept in from the far end of the training ground, stirring up yellow dust. The children squinted, and a few coughed, but not one moved their feet.
Kashimo swept his gaze from one end of the line to the other, then back again, roughly assessing their abilities. On average, they were only at the level of Grade 3 or Grade 4 Sorcerers.
That was only natural. After all, Jujutsu developed extremely slowly in other countries-one could even call it a struggle. Tengen's barrier acted like an invisible filter, trapping the world's cursed energy within the Japanese archipelago and leaving only scattered scraps to trickle outside. That was also why other countries had no Special Grade Sorcerers. It was not a lack of people, but a lack of sufficient cursed energy.
Even the finest cook could not make a meal without ingredients. Without a vast enough reserve of cursed energy, even the best Cursed Technique was nothing more than a sword hilt without a blade.
"Mr. Kashimo," Bauer said quietly from half a step behind him, "the children are all looking forward to your guidance."
Kashimo gave a hum of acknowledgment without turning around. He took two steps forward and stood directly in front of the line, his hands in his pockets as he looked down at the children. Sunlight shone from behind him, stretching his shadow across the ground at their feet.
After a moment's thought, he began with the very basics: the flow, concentration, and release