The moonlight was still. The scent of blood in the clearing slowly began to dissipate.
Kashimo stood over the body in the white robes. Arashi Gojo's eyes were still open, fixed on the moon, but the sky in those blue pupils had gone dark. Kashimo scratched his head.
"Well," he muttered. "I hope he doesn't suddenly learn a reverse cursed technique and co after again."
No one answered.
He shouldered his staff and turned to leave. After a few steps, he paused and looked back at the figure in the grass. He wondered briefly how that girl, Rinzo, was doing. He turned back toward the city and started walking, his shadow stretching long across the ground.
Then he stopped.
Ten paces ahead, two won stood in his path.
One wore red robes and a high ponytail. She was striking, standing in the moonlight as if she were radiating light herself. The other was quiet, dressed in a simple, elegant blue kimono with her hair over her shoulders. She stood beside the first woman, her eyes fixed on him.
Tokugawa sorcerers, Kashimo guessed.
His grip on the staff tightened, though his face remained blank. The won didn't move. They stared at one another across the gap.
"Who are you?" Kashimo asked.
The woman in red smiled. "Tokugawa Fuka," she said, her voice clear. "And this is my sister, Hotaru."
The quiet woman gave a small nod. Kashimo didn't respond. Fuka didn't seem to mind. She took a step forward, the moonlight catching the intensity in her eyes.
"So you're Kashimo," she said, her voice carrying a note of admiration. "I suppose you really are the strongest of the era. You actually killed the head of the Gojo clan."
She paused, her smile fading slightly. "But unfortunately, the Gojo head was a guest of the Shogunate. You won't be leaving tonight."
She reached back and drew a zanbato from its sheath. The blade glead under the moon, reflecting her face. At the sa ti, Hotaru raised her hand. Two samurai shikigami erged from the shadows behind her, their bodies humming with cursed energy as they landed silently by her side.
In a flash, Fuka was gone.
The blade cut through the air. Kashimo leaned to the side, the edge of the zanbato missing his chest by a fraction of an inch. He didn't even look at the weapon. His eyes were fixed on the wake of the strike. There was a thin white line in the air, a crack in space itself.
Before he could process it, Fuka twisted her wrist. The blade ca back in a wide, horizontal arc.
There was a soft sound of steel cutting through flesh.
Kashimo looked down. His right hand had been severed. The cut was perfect, as smooth as glass. Before the blood could even spray, the hand fell toward the ground, still clutching the staff.
He looked up at the woman in red. He was genuinely surprised. He'd been careless. His energy defense was enough to survive a direct hit from Arashi's Blue with barely a scratch.
"Is that a technique that cuts space?" he asked, his voice calm.
A rush of air ca from behind him. He didn't turn around. He threw a punch backward, his fist slamming into the chest of the samurai shikigami. On impact, the spirit's energy shattered like glass. The other shikigami's blade stopped an inch from the back of his neck before the shockwave of the punch sent it flying back toward its master.
Kashimo pulled his arm back and looked at the stump of his wrist. Blood dripped onto the dead leaves with a soft pattering sound.
"For an opponent like you," Fuka spoke from in front of him, her tone lazy, "I should probably disclose my hand."
She raised her hand and tightened her sleeve. A faint smile played on her lips.
"My technique is called Severing Void," she said. "It targets space itself. So, defense is useless against ."
Kashimo felt the atmosphere shift. A binding vow. By explaining her technique, she'd increased its effectiveness. He didn't say anything. He watched his wrist. Cursed energy surged through the wound, and a new hand began to grow. Flesh, bone, and skin knit together in seconds until it was whole again. He flexed his fingers.
He looked up.
The sparks of electricity around him beca violent. Blue and white arcs snapped and hissed, wrapping him in a blinding shroud of lightning. He pushed off the ground.
The earth shattered under his feet, cracks spreading through the dirt like a spiderweb. He was gone.
One mont he was there. The next he wasn't. Fuka's pupils shrank. Before she could raise her sword, a fist appeared in front of her face. She had no ti to move. The lightning-shrouded punch hit with a dull explosion. Fuka was hurled backward like a broken doll. Her organs shifted, and a spray of blood and saliva escaped her lips.
It caught Kashimo in the face.
Fuka hit a tree hard, sliding down the bark until she collapsed into a heap on the dirt. She gasped for air, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, but her eyes were still bright. She stared at him.
Kashimo stood where he was. He raised a hand and wiped his cheek. It was wet. He looked at the fluid on his fingers. It shimred under the moon.
"Tsk," he muttered. He flicked his hand, his brow furrowed in annoyance.
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A/n: Bonus chapters are coming. Thank u so much for ur support!!
200 power stones = I will drop 1 bonus chapter. So, don't forget to give ur stones and leave a review!!
For early access to 10 chapters ahead: p@tre~~/Demonic_Fiction (Link is in the synopsis and my profile).
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