"Showing them a fight is the best way to teach them."
Kashimo looked at the children, his voice a little quieter than before.
His gaze swept over their young faces one by one. Yellow earth, hot wind, skin gleaming in the sun, and the unmistakable hunger for strength in their eyes. He remembered things from long ago. Four hundred years earlier, people had looked at him that way, too.
Make sure you grow strong. Then come challenge me. He did not say it aloud, merely turned the words over in his mind as his smile widened a little.
"No problem at all. Let's do it now." Miguel's voice carried a trace of excitement he could not suppress. His eyes lit up, the corners of his mouth lifted, and even his stance changed. His earlier polite reserve gave way to a slight forward lean, a posture ready to unleash force at any moment.
"Sure," Kashimo replied, his tone as indifferent as ever. He rolled his neck, drawing a few faint cracks from his cervical joints. The movement loosened the entire line of his shoulders, like a sword drawn from its sheath. Even before its edge showed, its spine gleamed coldly.
Bauer covered his face at the side, sliding his palm from his forehead to his chin as though kneading all his exasperation into a single lump. He had known it.
Ever since receiving word yesterday that this Special Grade Sorcerer was coming to Kenya, he had had a vague premonition that establishing diplomatic ties this time would involve more than handshakes, signatures, and a few photographs.
What he had feared most had happened after all. But he did not interfere. He merely drew a deep breath, turned around, and waved the children on the training ground back. He personally paced out