A calm breeze whisked its way through the medieval city, the sounds of those who lived in this foreign land chattering and laughing away like a musical symphony in the air.
It was peaceful—it was calm and almost serene despite the noise. And on one of the many cobble-slabbed streets, opposite a dragon-hitched wagon's parole stand, stood a young man in peculiar attire.
He stood tall, firm—almost like a statue. His white, otherworldly hair blew in the wind, earning him a few odd glances.
"Eh…?"
He blinked—once, twice—thrice—
Before finally daring to move, angling his dark-tinted sunglasses slightly to let his eyes—rich sky blue, flecked with various shades of lighter and darker color—take in these unfamiliar lands.
"Well—this certainly wasn't on my bingo card…"
The young man murmured under his breath. As he glanced around, he noticed something strange: there were quite literally zero curses, or even traces of cursed energy, in the air.
If that alone wasn't enough to clue him in on what had happened, then the presence of something else—something unfamiliar yet tangible—certainly was.
Alright so... there's mana in the air. Strange animal-looking folk roaming the streets and...
As he observed everyone else—and then himself—he noticed they all had something in common.
His Six Eyes, something many considered a gift from God, gave him all the information he needed. And what he saw was—a Gate, and an Od.
The Gate flowed at everyone's center like a mystical, magical whirlpool, storing mana in the body and allowing its release in various forms.
Beside it, the Od resided. The information his eyes granted him told him that this was essentially one's soul—one's life energy.
Alright… so this all basically equates to one thing...
"I, Satoru Gojo, have been transmigrated into another world!"
Just moments prior, he had been roaming the streets of Jujutsu High. Then he blinked—watching in shock as the very fabric of the world crumbled before his eyes. A strange ringing, almost painful, jolted through his head.
And then, he opened his eyes to this new world. Now, Satoru Gojo was aimlessly wandering cobblestone streets.
If I was gonna get sent to a whole other world, then Suguru could've at least joined me. Damn it.
Satoru let out a long, exasperated breath, scratching the side of his head.
Then he glanced down at a stall—and a familiar-looking basket of fruit in front of it.
It's strange… The people speak Japanese, but the writing is something I've never seen before. Not that it'll take me long to learn a new language—I am Satoru Gojo, after all!
"Uh… ah right… I am completely broke."
The man behind the stall immediately leaned forward, the veins on his forehead bulging.
"Then get the hell outta here!!"
Right… So I've learned a few interesting things about this place. I'm currently in the Kingdom of Lugunica—more specifically, the Royal Capital. Though what to do with that information… no clue.
"...Especially 'cause it's definitely common knowledge."
Satoru sighed, then spotted a trio of suspicious-looking individuals—one large, one skinny, and one small.
They really do look like your average thieves straight out of a manga… but who am I to judge based on appearances?
"Well, well, well—look what we have here!" the largest man of the three hummed.
"We're feelin' real nice today, so just cough up all you got and we'll let you on your way," the smallest said, grinning.
"Yo~ Are you really sure you wanna do this?" Satoru said with a calm smile, glaring at them. "Yikes… Just how far have I fallen? Special Grade Sorcerer—or well… former—reduced to being threatened by no-name criminals."
"Huh?!" the skinny one tensed up, scowling. Then—
SHINK—
A pair of daggers flashed, catching the sunlight.
"The hell did you say, basta—?!"
But Satoru had already moved. Though to them, it was as if he hadn't.
In the next moment, he stood beside the thin man, casting a shadow as he towered over him. One palm casually rested on the man's shoulder.
"You say something?"
If that wasn't enough to terrify them—
The sight of Satoru's pearlescent azure gaze, glowing faintly over the edge of his sunglasses, would have been.
And it was.
"A-Ah…" The thug didn't even dare to move. He didn't swing his daggers. It was like a rabbit facing a lion.
Mm… smarter than he looks, ain't he?~
Satoru patted his shoulder before returning his hand to his pocket. "Wise choice." His tone dipped slightly darker—then returned to normal. "Scurry along now~ Don't let me catch you doing this again~!"
The trio immediately scurried off without a word.
"Hm… well, I was almost hoping they'd do something… But oh well—"
Satoru chuckled to himself.
Then—
"Are you alright?"
A voice beckoned from behind him—etched with purity, and a hint of curiosity.
..?!
Satoru's eyes widened in genuine surprise, immediately turning toward the voice.
Crimson hair. Cerulean eyes. Sword at his waist.
Hell, even the rays of sunlight had moved to spotlight him. More importantly…
I didn't even sense him until he spoke. That's never happened before.
"Oh. Yes, I'm fi—" Satoru paused.
W-What the hell is that?! Divine Blessings of… Gah! Information overload—holy!
He flicked his sunglasses back up with a grimace.
"...Is everything alright?" the man repeated, confusion masking his handsome features.
This guy… he's strong. Stronger than anyone I've seen…
"Ah! Yep! Perfectly fine. Those people that fled were trying to rob me, so I gave them a little fright," Satoru said, nodding, face returning to normal.
"Ah, most respectable indeed," the crimson-haired man replied with a nod.
"What's your name, by the way? I'm Satoru. Satoru Gojo."
Did… I say something wrong?
"A-Ah… apologies, Satoru Gojo. It's just been a long time since I've met someone who didn't know me. My name is Reinhard van Astrea—otherwise known as the Sword Saint. Though, I don't really consider myself worthy of such a title."
Was that… relief? Joy?
Ah. I did hear talk about a 'Sword Saint'. Thought it was just myth, or some ancient tale. But wow… Could he, like—tone down all of that? Just looking at him above the glasses is giving me eye burn.
"Your attire is certainly unusual. Funny, actually—a situation like this happened not too long ago. You wouldn't happen to be searching for someone, would you?"
Hm? What's he talking about?
"Eh? Nah—"
Reinhard's smile held, though something shifted—seriousness. "Apologies. Nice meeting you, Satoru, but I have somewhere I need to be. Quickly."
Satoru noticed the shift, and nodded.
"I'll come, then! Oh, and knock off the 'san', Reinhard. I've heard enough honorifics to last a lifetime—it's just annoying at this point."
Reinhard looked at him, several seconds passing, before he nodded.
"Very well, Satoru. You may call me Reinhard."
"Let's go then!" Satoru hummed, grinning.
He almost reminds me of Suguru in a way… funny…
Satoru wasn't sure what he was feeling—maybe it was realization. On one hand, he no longer had to deal with the Gojo Clan's baggage. On the other… he might never see his best friend again.
He let out a sigh as he sprinted alongside Reinhard—
The two hopping rooftop to rooftop at impressive speed, headed toward—
The slums...?
In the slums...
"G-Grh!"
Each slash of the dagger came close—too close. Natsuki Subaru barely blocked them by a hair's breadth.
But there was no opening. No time to counter.
SWISH—
The jet-black dagger, streaked with purple, was raised overhead.
It was unblockable. Undodgeable.
In a moment, fate would repeat—and Subaru would once again feel it tear through his flesh—
Then—
A shard of ice struck the woman's side, Emilia struck at a distance with magic, playing the perfect support role and more importantly stopping what would have been a fatal strike.
"Nice cover—!"
Subaru shouted, crimson lines etching across his skin, staining his clothing.
"Gah—! Then… how about this?!"
He moved, retracting the giant mace to his side—
A feint. His leg sprang outward, aiming for the woman's ribs.
"—Wha?!"
However, she blocked it effortlessly, a single hand catching his shin mid-kick and holding him in place.
Fear..
That was what filled Subaru's face as the dagger's edge glistened in the moonlight. Would he have to do this all over again?
Thankfully, fate had other plans it seemed for now…
"That's enough."
A strangely familiar, calming voice filled the air, freezing everyone in place.
BOOOM—
The ceiling above them caved in with a thunderous crash. Smoke and splintered wood fell to the ground.
"Well then…"
From the shadows, a silhouette emerged, shrouded in mist. Each step was firm, radiating confidence—radiating power.
Unrivaled, would be the most simple term..
"That certainly was a close call… but I'm glad we made it in time."
It was the Sword Saint, Reinhard, his casual smile never faltering.
Elsa, however, merely looked on with utter indifference.
"…By 'we', you mean—"
SWISH—
A leg shot out and struck Elsa in the stomach, splintering the wooden floor beneath her.
Her body snapped inward before being flung across the tavern, crashing into a nearby wall.
"Yeah~ He's not alone."
The white haired-man grinned, his foot settling back onto the ground.
Subaru stared at the two figures, letting out a long, exasperated breath of relief..
But something else caught his attention.
Who's he...? Do sunglasses exist here!?
"No need to worry, Subaru. Sorry for being late."
THUD—
After a moment, the pieces of wood that had collapsed atop the burrowed hole where Elsa resided trembled.
Then they were severed, diced into thin strands of wood before she emerged from the darkness.
"Oh..?" The white-haired man hummed.
Subaru felt almost inclined to stare at him, strangely, though because of that, he watched the way the man's grin only grew wider when Elsa revealed herself once more.
A fleeting moment of silence, before—
"Black hair... black clothes... and a peculiar blade unique to the northern provinces. There's no mistaking those characteristics. You are the 'Bowel Hunter,'" Reinhard said swiftly, not even bothering to ask, as if he already knew.
"What kind of evil nickname even is that?!" Subaru commented with a grimace. "It derived from her sadistic style of killing where she'd disembowel her opponents."
Elsa stepped forward, licking her lips. "Yes... good. A Knight among Knights, the Sword Saint himself... yes~ How fun..!"
I'm being ignored... Even after landing the first blow, she only wants to fight Reinhard? I mean, the dude is insane alright, but I have my pride.
"Sorry, Reinhard." Satoru finally spoke up, which got the attention of everyone awake in the tavern.
"But I really don't like being ignored, so I'll be sure to show her the error of her ways..."
Surprisingly, Reinhard gave little protest to this, as if already aware of Satoru's might.
"Very well, Satoru. I would prefer her alive for questioning, but if it's too much, then worry not."
Ohoo... I can certainly do that... I can already tell she ain't all that.
Elsa moved—quicker than quick, faster than faster. The gap between them closed in an instant—
"Don't worry about me."
Satoru stepped forward, merely once.
Then, he shifted—his entire body rotating to the side to avoid the dagger's sharpness.
"Missed me~"
THWACK—
A heavy blow struck her face, the shockwave rippling through her entire body and sending her into a skid backward. The warm, familiar sensation of blood trickled down her face as she lifted her head from her low stance—
Satoru had already moved by that point, the sole of his foot launching into her face for a sudden follow-up that sent the Bowel Hunter flying toward the wall.
Oh..? Yeah, good~ This wouldn't be any fun for me if you were just a ragdoll after all!
She recovered, flipping upright and propelling herself off of the ground, then the wall—then another—and another—as she sprinted around the tavern's border at neck-breaking speed.
Before suddenly dashing in at the sight of an opening, seemingly homing in as if she were a missile.
Her dagger thrust toward his flank, which he hadn't even seen coming...
It's checkmate.
Elsa mused to herself. Though her expression faltered in the very next moment as her dagger suddenly stopped, just an inch from his neck.
"What—" A barrier...?
Satoru glanced around the corner of his eye, a small grin on his face before he instantly pivoted and gripped her forearm, which was wielding the dagger.
"It's not as simple as you're thinking~ Though this does, in fact, mean I've only been dodging you for style points..."
He leaned forward, his deep cerulean pupils locking onto her own, which were pitch-black in hue, accompanied by a grin.
"You feel me? Don't take it personally though... just hope you're stronger in your next life, alright?"
SMASH—
Her body was then lifted off the ground, shifted mid-air, and slammed spine-first against the wooden surface.
The heavy impact alone shattered the ground and caused the entire tavern to tremble momentarily.
K-Kuagh!? This...-
Then, a kick to her body sent her flying aimlessly through the wall and outside.
This bastard isn't even the Sword Saint..! Yet... I can't even touch him!
Satoru stepped forward, stepping over scattered pieces of rubble and debris before pointing his index finger directly toward Elsa.
Rich—intense—overwhelming crimson...
Pure crimson lit up the surface like the sun itself, growing, manifesting—brighter—larger—more intensely—
Elsa felt one thing. Death. If this touches her, she will die.
If this hits me—!!
"Ah." Satoru clicked his tongue. The red instantly dissipated into nothingness. "Well, it would either kill her or blow her way off... though I'd also destroy a portion of this place, which Reinhard and also the uh... people wouldn't like."
"It's your lucky day! Reinhard did ask me to keep you alive after all," Satoru said with a smile, tilting his head.
He blinked. Then, a huge mound of smoke manifested along with the debris...
Elsa Granhiert was gone, like the wind.
Huh... Ah... that was dumb of me, wasn't it?
Satoru clicked his tongue before rubbing his nape and turning away.
A tad annoyed at that... though I can still sense a person's presence. It's not to the same degree as it was on Earth... I guess because Mana is different from Cursed Energy after all.
He shrugged.