The two Divine Children began chatting as if it were the most natural thing in the world, leaving the onlookers stunned. By all logic, they shouldn't have known each other beforehand.
Whispers spread quickly.
Some speculated that geniuses were simply drawn to one another.
Others thought it was only because they were the same age, sharing similar interests and topics.
Children nearby gathered in clusters or drifted away, some laughing loudly, others watching in silence. Many of them were talented in their own right, yet not a single one dared approach the pair.
The pressure radiating from the two boys felt like an invisible barrier—one that made people instinctively hesitate, even take a step back.
As the banquet progressed, the host finally stepped onto the stage with a wide smile and lifted a hand.
"Honored guests, please proceed to the plaza outside. It's time to enjoy the young geniuses of each clan as they display their talents."
Everyone rose at once and began moving toward the plaza.
A spacious arena awaited them at the plaza's center, encircled by neatly arranged chairs and tea tables.
"It's finally time! I've been waiting for this!" someone shouted, excitement swelling in their voice.
"I'm curious to see what the kids from the Gojo Clan and Kamo Clan can really do," another person said.
"I bet a million on Gojo Satoru winning!" a voice blurted out.
"Tch, isn't that obvious?" someone else scoffed.
"Then let's bet on how long Kamo Itsuki can last," someone proposed.
"That's actually a better gamble," several people agreed in unison.
Kamo Itsuki listened to the discussions around him, but his heart didn't waver.
Standing beside the brilliance of Gojo Satoru and his Six Eyes, he did appear ordinary on the surface.
"Itsuki, how about we place a bet too? I'll bet on you winning, then intentionally lose. We'd make a fortune off these guys."
Gojo Satoru spoke with that same easygoing confidence, a mischievous curve to his lips.
"I was thinking the same," Itsuki replied calmly. "But there's no need for you to go easy on me. I don't plan on losing anyway."
The moment he said it, Gojo's bored expression instantly sharpened with interest.
He had only come because the elders of the Gojo Clan had begged him endlessly.
This so-called competition among children had never mattered to him.
After all, even many adults in his clan could no longer defeat him.
He conveniently forgot he was only six years old himself.
He hadn't expected someone to challenge him—much less someone who didn't seem to be bragging.
His eyes locked onto Kamo Itsuki as if trying to peer into his thoughts.
"I didn't know you were so confident. Alright then, let's bet all our pocket money on ourselves. Let's see who really comes out on top."
His Six Eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Fine by me," Kamo Itsuki answered without hesitation.
The moment he agreed, Gojo dashed off to place his bet, then leapt onto the arena, waiting eagerly for him.
Seeing him take the stage, the other clans quietly withdrew their own children.
Everyone understood what this duel meant.
Only one boy here could stand against Gojo Satoru—Kamo Itsuki.
Itsuki walked toward the arena at an unhurried pace, each step steady and powerful.
When he stopped before Gojo Satoru, their eyes met, and an invisible pressure surged between them.
Despite being only six years old, their auras intensified, pressing on the hearts of everyone around them.
Several weaker individuals even felt their breath hitch.
On that arena, their small bodies appeared impossibly tall and resolute.
Their staring contest alone felt like a battle.
And this fight would undoubtedly mark a turning point in both of their lives.
"Can a six-year-old really radiate this kind of presence?" someone muttered in disbelief.
"The Six Eyes are impressive as expected… but why does the Kamo kid have such a powerful aura too?" another whispered, eyes wide.
The head of the Gojo Clan watched quietly, admiration sparking in his gaze. He looked at Kamo Itsuki with interest before turning to Kamo Masaki.
"Kamo Masaki, you certainly hid this well," he said with a small, knowing smile.
Kamo Masaki's heart tightened. He kept his face calm, but unease twisted inside him.
He had only intended to use the title of "Divine Child" to elevate the clan's standing, never imagining Kamo Itsuki would genuinely possess such overwhelming strength.
He thought bitterly, Can I even admit I only found out today?
Still, he refused to show weakness.
"Don't assume your clan is the only one with a Divine Child," he replied coolly.
Not far away, the head of the Zen'in Clan wore a thunderous expression.
His eyes were fixed on Kamo Itsuki and Gojo Satoru, jealousy and resentment churning beneath the surface.
"Damn it… why can't the Zen'in Clan produce someone like that? Instead, we're stuck with a defiant brat with a Heavenly Restriction."
His fists tightened until veins bulged, as though clenching them was the only way to ease the burning frustration in his chest.
On the arena, Kamo Itsuki stood tall in his black kimono.
The straight lines of his posture, the steady calm in his expression, and the sharp glint in his dark eyes made him seem far older than his age.
His aura matched Gojo Satoru's blow for blow, tension thickening the air between them.
Gojo Satoru eyed him with unmistakable excitement.
A bright smile broke across his face, as if he had stumbled upon a treasure he'd been waiting for.
"I hope you can entertain me."
His voice rang clearly across the venue—followed by the explosive sound of his movement.
In the blink of an eye, he shot forward like lightning, closing the distance with terrifying speed.
His advance was sharp as a cutting gale, heavy as thunder, pressure crashing toward Itsuki.
Itsuki didn't retreat.
He moved instantly, stepping into the clash with unwavering resolve.
A deafening impact split the air—two small figures colliding with the force of meteor fragments.
Dust erupted, sweeping across the arena in a thick cloud.
Spectators were pushed back by the shockwave, stumbling several steps before regaining their footing.
As the dust thinned, the two boys were already locked in close combat.
Gojo Satoru's fist sliced through the air toward Itsuki's cheek.
Itsuki dodged by a hair's breadth and countered with a clean, swift kick.
Their silhouettes flickered across the stage, movements so fast they resembled overlapping phantoms.
"These kids are six?" someone gasped. "I can barely follow them!"
"They really are Divine Children. At their age, I was still drinking milk," another said proudly.
"Even now you might still need some," the person next to him muttered, earning a round of laughter.
While the crowd reveled in the spectacle, the more knowledgeable watched with sharper eyes.
"They're still sizing each other up," a Zen'in elder noted. "Neither has used a Cursed Technique yet."
"Let's see who breaks first."
The words had barely left his mouth when Gojo Satoru overextended on a punch aimed at Itsuki's left cheek.
It was only a slight error—barely visible—but enough to create an opening.
Itsuki struck immediately, launching an uppercut straight toward Gojo's chin.
A perfect counter.
For a moment, it seemed impossible for Gojo to dodge.
But Itsuki's fist halted less than a centimeter from his chin, unable to move forward any further.
"Tch… Limitless really is a nuisance."
Recognizing that Gojo had activated the technique, Itsuki withdrew without hesitation.
He feinted, then slipped backward, creating distance and resetting his stance.