The mass mobilization of the Kamo Clan sent shockwaves through the insular world of jujutsu society. Eyes turned toward their compound, rife with speculation, but the clan members themselves were just as confused. The reason remained a tightly held secret, known only to a nervous few at the top.
By the evening of the second day, the sprawling Kamo estate was packed with over a thousand clansmen who had heeded the call. The air buzzed with anxious chatter, reunions, and hushed theories. The atmosphere was less one of unity and more of a bewildered convention.
The buzz died to a murmur as Clan Head Kamo Masaki and the elders took a central platform. Beside Masaki stood Kamo Itsuki, a figure of calm amidst the simmering confusion.
"Is this the succession?" someone whispered. "For a coronation, this is overkill."
Masaki's voice, amplified by a simple technique, cut through the whispers. "You have been gathered today at the behest of Kamo Itsuki. He has… a benefit to bestow upon the clan."
The word "benefit" ignited the crowd. The noise swelled into an indignant roar.
"His idea?"
"I crossed an ocean for this? What 'benefit' could possibly be worth it?"
"This better be good, or someone's paying!"
The din became chaotic, disrespectful. Kamo Itsuki glanced at Masaki with a faint, ironic smile. "See, Patriarch? A pile of sand."
Before Masaki could respond, Itsuki stepped forward. He didn't shout. He simply released his Cursed Energy.
It wasn't an attack. It was an atmospheric event. A crushing, divine-weight pressure slammed down on the plaza, as if the sky itself had descended. Instinctively, a thousand surges of cursed energy flared in resistance—and were instantly, utterly extinguished. Knees buckled. Bodies were driven to the ground. Only Masaki and the strongest elders remained standing, but they trembled under the strain, sweat beading on ashen faces.
The cacophony vanished, replaced by a stunned, terrified silence. In that moment, theory became reality. The "Divine Child" was not a ceremonial title. He was a cataclysm in human form. Those who had muttered complaints moments before felt ice grip their hearts.
Satisfied with the silence, Kamo Itsuki spoke, his voice calm and carrying to every ear. "I summoned you. Now, I deliver the benefit."
Without further preamble, his hands formed a complex, fluid seal. His voice echoed with ceremonial power.
"Blood Manipulation: Ancestral Resonance."
The effect was instantaneous and internal. Every clansman present, from the strongest elder to the weakest child, felt it—a deep, primal vibration within their very veins. Their blood, the shared legacy of the Kamo lineage, ceased to be a passive fluid and became a chorus. It surged in rhythm with Kamo Itsuki's own, not as an attack, but as an invocation. He wasn't controlling their blood; he was awakening the latent potential coded within their shared heredity.
He was performing a feat theorized in ancient scrolls but never achieved: using his mastery as the apex of their technique to catalyze a bloodline-wide evolution. This was the "benefit"—not gold, not land, but the potential for transcendence. For those who had answered the call, the journey of their blood had just taken a sudden, monumental leap forward. For those who had stayed away, they had irrevocably chosen to be left behind.
A collective, profound shudder ran through the assembled clan. It wasn't pain, but a wave of overwhelming, cellular euphoria. Heat bloomed from within, a cleansing fire that scoured through veins and marrow. The shared Kamo bloodline, dormant and scattered, sang in resonant harmony.
Clansmen gasped, their eyes wide with shock that melted into rapture. "What is this…?" one whispered, clutching his chest. "It's… incredible. Like my very soul is being tuned."
Another let out an involuntary cry, a mix of surprise and pure exhilaration. "My cursed energy… it's responding! It's alive!"
Tears of sheer, overwhelming sensation traced paths down weathered faces. For ten minutes, Kamo Itsuki held the technique, a conductor before a thousand-strong orchestra of awakened heritage.
When he finally lowered his hands, the sudden cessation was its own shock. A wave of disappointed groans and pleas rippled through the crowd.
"Don't stop!"
"Please, just a little longer!"
"We weren't ready for it to end!"
Kamo Itsuki ignored the greedy appeals, his voice cutting through the babble with calm authority. "What you just experienced was Bloodline Resonance. It has recalibrated your foundational constitution. Your total cursed energy reserves have expanded. The inherent potency of your techniques has been amplified. Your future growth ceilings… have been raised."
He let the magnitude of his words sink in. This wasn't a temporary boost; it was a permanent, heritable upgrade to the very essence of being a Kamo. For those with purer lineage, the effect was even more profound, increasing the likelihood of their descendants manifesting the prized Blood Manipulation technique.
He then turned to Kamo Masaki, who stood watching, his own body thrumming with the afterglow of the resonance. "Patriarch," Itsuki said, his tone formal yet carrying an unspoken understanding. "You will remain Clan Head. My path lies elsewhere, unbound by administration."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the thousand-strong crowd, now looking at him with awe, not resentment. "However, in times when the clan's cooperation is needed, or when I require its resources, I trust you will remember today's… investment."
The message was elegant and binding. He had not taken power through fear, but had purchased supreme loyalty and future leverage with a gift they could never repay—the gift of their own elevated potential. He had made the clan stronger not for his own rule, but to ensure it would be a powerful, willing tool whenever he chose to call upon it.
Kamo Masaki, understanding the new covenant perfectly, bowed his head slightly, a gesture of profound respect. "The Kamo Clan is, and will always be, your home and your stronghold. You need only ask."
Kamo Itsuki had achieved his goal. He was not the head of the family. He was its benefactor and its sovereign, free from daily burdens yet holding its destiny in the palm of his hand. The loose sand of the clan had been fused, not by fear, but by the shared, glorious fire he had ignited in their blood.
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