Miwa had nothing more to offer.
After hesitating through a half-formed explanation, she finally admitted it—she couldn't perform what Ren had just done.
Her shoulders lowered slightly.
Ren shifted his attention to Utahime.
Utahime felt the pressure immediately.
Miwa was a student. It was one thing for her to come up short. But as their instructor, failing to answer him would mean something else.
She searched for a response—something technical, something instructive.
But compressing cursed energy into a stable blade and launching it as a ranged attack wasn't foundational technique.
It was advanced.
And not one she had mastered herself.
Utahime exhaled slowly, then smiled with practiced composure.
"What you've demonstrated is already a high-level application of cursed energy control," she said evenly. "The fact that you achieved it independently speaks to strong intuition."
She folded her arms lightly.
"This isn't a situation where I should restrict you with conventional frameworks. Continue refining it. Explore its limits. You might arrive at something original."
Ren studied her expression for a moment.
Then he nodded.
He accepted the answer.
Utahime allowed herself a quiet breath of relief.
The rest of the morning passed in repetition.
Ren didn't produce another large-scale breakthrough, but his control improved visibly. Reinforcement became smoother. The "Cleave" projection stabilized, its arc cleaner, its output more precise.
By midday, the training field looked as if a localized disaster had passed through.
In the afternoon, Utahime called them to her office.
"We have a field assignment," she said.
Ren blinked. "Already?"
"Yes. A newly detected cursed spirit. Low-grade."
She handed out the report.
"Third Grade. Located in an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city. Minor disturbances. No civilian casualties reported yet."
Ren felt his stomach tighten faintly.
The stitched-faced curse still lingered in his memory—its laughter, its hands.
Utahime noticed.
"The curse you encountered before was exceptionally dangerous," she said calmly. "Likely beyond Grade 1. Possibly Special Grade."
She let that settle.
"This one isn't comparable. You won't be engaging alone. Zenin and Miwa will handle combat. You observe. Understand the basics of exorcism procedure."
Ren exhaled quietly.
That made sense.
Still—
"Where's Mechamaru?" he asked.
Miwa answered gently. "He's on a separate assignment. He can operate solo on higher-level missions."
Ren nodded.
He had suspected as much.
Mai folded her arms.
"You look disappointed," she said flatly. "It's a Third Grade. Either of us could handle it alone."
She gave him a sideways glance.
"We're only going as a group because you're new."
Ren didn't argue.
If this was a controlled introduction, then fine.
An abandoned factory came into view as the sun dipped lower.
Utahime stood outside the entrance and formed a hand sign.
Her voice was steady as she invoked the barrier.
"Emerge from the darkness, darker than darkness. Purify what is impure."
Shadow gathered above the building like thick liquid.
It descended in a slow curtain, sealing the factory within a semi-transparent veil.
The sky overhead dimmed.
Ren paused at the entrance, looking up.
"What is this?"
"A Curtain," Mai answered tersely.
Miwa elaborated, softer. "A type of barrier technique. It isolates the area so civilians can't see what happens inside."
Ren nodded once.
Practical.
They pushed open the factory doors.
Inside, the air was stale. Rusted machinery loomed in skeletal rows. The concrete floor was stained dark in places where water had pooled and dried.
The atmosphere felt wrong.
Cursed energy hung low in the air—thin, but present.
Ren's senses sharpened automatically.
Behind them, outside the Curtain, Utahime lowered her hands.
She watched the silhouettes of her students fade into the dim interior.
There was tension in her chest.
And anticipation.
Ren's first assignment had begun.