As the battle ended, the waves receded, and the shores calmed down.
Kenjaku remained beneath the tree long after the fake ocean had stilled. Dagon floated quietly in the background, barely rippling the surface of the domain. Hanami stood at a distance, arms folded, her shoulder already healed.
She was, at the end of the day, the most durable among the Disaster Curses.
Jogo's head remained unmoving, his eyes studying Mahito with great interest and glee.
'Hehe~ It's only natural that one of us, new humans, has this much talent!'
Kenjaku watched Mahito as the younger curse walked away without a word. Still wearing that childlike smile. Still humming to himself like a creature that had never once questioned its place in the world.
But Kenjaku knew better.
The infantile curse was growing faster than anticipated. His body was evolving with every encounter, and worse, his soul was keeping pace.
Most curses developed their form first. Mahito, however, was... layered. Curious. Reflexive. And dangerously self-aware for something, whilst pretending not to be.
Kenjaku lowered his chin, letting his gaze drift toward the messed-up beach that Mahito had left in his wake.
He had reshaped himself mid-flight. Split a part of his soul, weaponised it, then regenerated without delay or hesitation. That wasn't something one could do with just improvisation.
Mahito's technique wasn't just the manipulation of his body. It was something deeper. Something born in the soul.
Kenjaku had seen something like it before. Long ago. Before the techniques used in the current era sprouted. It was raw. Unrefined. Dangerous in its purity.
"A curse that shapes the soul..."
He whispered it into the quiet, ignoring the reactions of the other curses around him.
He had already suspected that Mahito was hiding things from him, but this spar had just managed to confirm that thing for him.
Mahito wasn't just modifying his physical body; he was modifying his soul, and his body naturally moved to match the form of the soul.
If that were true, then Mahito wasn't just useful. He was pivotal. The future Kenjaku envisioned, a new era of cursed sorcery.
'But can he manipulate souls other than his? If not, then his ability may just be a similar one... Even so, why hide it from me?'
But the young curse was hard to read. Too perceptive. Too adaptable. Too clever for his own good.
A wild card.
Kenjaku smiled again, this time to himself.
'Let's see... Whether you're a piece on the board, or another player entirely...'
The ocean shimmered one last time before they escaped Mahito's perception as he stepped out. To him, it felt as if the shores had dissolved entirely.
The sewers welcomed him with a familiar stench he hadn't missed.
Mahito's footsteps echoed softly on the wet stone. The air was familiar. Heavy. Full of the kind of stagnant energy that only the unloved parts of a city could hold.
His body felt lighter than before. Not because he had won.
But because he had survived without revealing everything.
He hadn't used his most refined tricks. Hadn't manipulated the soul of his enemy or even hinted that he was able to.
Kenjaku finding out that Mahito could manipulate his soul was very much within expected parameters.
After all, it was easier to fool the ancient sorcerer if he thought that he had Mahito figured out.
Mahito was well aware of the ancient sorcerer's suspicions, the body snatcher had made it quite obvious after all.
He showed just enough to be impressive.
'Even so, fooling Kenjaku isn't easy, can't let a small win cloud my judgement going further...'
Mahito paused in a narrow corridor, light from a broken grate casting silver bars down the walls.
He reached for a loose piece of flesh on his arm, plucked a splinter still lodged in his skin, and flicked it into the water.
His base wasn't far. A tunnel, a junction, and a half-formed chamber he had been carving slowly over time. It was crude but comfortable. Private. Quiet.
Mahito turned a corner.
And stopped.
There was someone else in the tunnel, a stench he didn't recognise amidst the filth.
Two figures, actually.
The first was already mid-swing.
A glint of steel cut the dim sewer light as a massive battle axe arced toward his head. It came fast. Silent. From above. A vertical cleave with enough force to shatter bone, maybe even completely destroy a lesser curse.
But Mahito was still riding the high of technically winning against Hanami.
The Special Grade's body bent backwards in an instant, spine folding like paper at a 90-degree angle. The blade missed his face by a hair's breadth, carving a deep gash into the concrete beneath him with a wet crack.
He smiled as the blade passed right over his face. He felt relaxed in that moment, calm, concentrated...
The figure that attacked him was a tall woman with silver-blue hair tied into a sleek braid. Her curves were sharp beneath a fitted bodysuit, her stance poised and careful. She moved like someone who knew the exact weight of her strikes and didn't plan on striking twice.
The second figure, a silver-haired boy in suspenders, had already drawn a warding charm, his body moving with purpose, clearly setting up a barrier.
Mahito straightened up, his spine standing back up with a nasty crack as he dusted a fleck of debris from his shoulder.
"Well," he said casually. "That's one way to say hello."
The woman with the axe stood still now, unmoving. Her braid hung over her shoulder, boots rooted to the stone like she hadn't just tried to decapitate him.
Her face was unreadable, but her stance was relaxed. She didn't press the attack.
"Grade 1 sorcerers, huh? I must've garnered too much attention..." Mahito mused, studying her weapon.
"An independent curse that speaks. That amount of curse energy also sure narrows it down."
The boy behind her didn't lower the charm as he made some mental notes about the humanoid curse in front of them.
The woman finally spoke.
"Confirmed. Target is not a first-grade or semi-special grade. Cursed energy density is comparable to known Special Grades. Unregistered at that..."
She adjusted her grip slightly.
"I am Mei Mei, Grade 1 Sorcerer... I've been hired to eliminate a threat lurking in these sewers."
Her voice was smooth and calm, despite being faced with a Special Grade Curse she knew nothing about.
Mahito smiled.
"Did the invoice say anything about asking questions first?"
Mei Mei raised her chin a fraction.
"No."
Mahito sighed, rolling his neck lazily.
"That's cute~ but unnecessary. I am not a threat to anyone aside from the structural integrity of some of the streets above me."
"... Sis, doesn't that still endanger people?" The silver-haired boy asked incredulously.
"Eh. Not with the amount of noise I kept making. Someone was bound to take notice of it." Mahito shrugged a bit, not exactly feeling threatened in the encounter.
Sure, Mei Mei was strong, some could say she was stronger than Nanami, if not on par. But none of her abilities could damage his soul. Not that anyone even knew what it took to damage him at that point.
Mei Mei didn't lower her axe. Her eyes were still analysing everything: distance, footing, blind spots.
"You're not what we expected," she said calmly.
"Most things aren't as expected in this world," Mahito replied. "The important thing is whether you survive the surprise or not."
"Your cursed energy," she said, "Feels even more vile and repulsive than that of the currently registered Special Grades."
Mahito just shrugged, not taking her words as either a compliment or an insult. He was, at the end of the day, a Curse.
"And you're here for money," he said, walking a slow arc around her, careful not to invade her reach. "That makes you predictable."
Ui Ui stiffened slightly, jumping a few steps behind as he continued his skilful preparations to put up a barrier.
Mahito stopped, just out of axe range.
"Relax," he said. "If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't be talking."
Mei Mei's expression didn't change. But her stance shifted, just slightly. A soft adjustment. A sign she understood the point.
"You won't defend yourself?" she asked.
"Oh, I will," Mahito said. "Just not yet. I'm curious. You tried to kill me on entry. That means you didn't know who I was."
Mei Mei lowered her weapon to her side, though she didn't sheath it.
"You're not on any registry," she replied. "No known records. The official list of Special Grades is... short."
"I prefer to stay off lists."
Mei Mei's eyes narrowed a fraction.
"Your name?"
"Mahito."
The air between them seemed to still.
Even Ui Ui flinched faintly.
"Humanity's fear of itself." The young special grade smiled a bit as he spoke of his nature, the fear that formed him. Dark purplish cursed energy rolled off of him subconsciously as he mentioned it.
Mei Mei murmured. "Fitting. Must be why it feels so... Dirty."
Mahito offered no reaction. He just watched her.
She watched him back.
Then, without saying anything further, she lowered her axe to her side. Her grip didn't loosen, but she no longer looked like she intended to swing again.
"Since this is a conversation," she said.
"I remember there being other intelligent Special Grades. Talking ones. Banding together. Gojo mentioned some. Would you happen to have some information on that?"
Her eyes shimmered faintly as she studied him. She no longer viewed Mahito just as a threat.
In him, she saw something else... Something profitable.
'Information on unregistered Special Grades... Can the Elders even put a high enough price on it?~'