Ah, so those were the humans that lived underground. Cool. They were distracting the robots.
Not interesting.
His attention was, unfortunately, wrestled by something far more intriguing: a question.
What the hell kind of Cursed Spirit was this thing?
Sukuna raised a brow as the angry, red, winged, demonic-looking creature leapt straight for him, its titanic body wreathed in flame and fury, wielding twin axes that oozed with the concept of war and death, just like their wielder. It stood at a height of twenty feet, at least, twin horns curving and twirling backwards, a crown of fire and a cape of blazing bones, a brazen collar around its neck. Infernal plates of armor covered its body and half of its face seemed already mutilated before they even began their fight. Its wings were broken as well, lacking the necessary webbing that would allow for flight, which was probably why it hadn't been flying around when it emerged from the ground in a rush of carnage and fire. It possessed something of a tail, short and almost vestigial and likely non-functional in combat.
Interesting...
The thing before him was borne of war; Sukuna knew that much at a glance. It fed on violence and aggression – embodied them, even. But, the damnest and most confounding thing, Sukuna admitted, was the fact that the veritable god of war before him, a Cursed Spirit that held enough Cursed Energy to dwarf every single sorcerer he'd ever met combined, was incomplete. This entity, for whatever reason, felt like it was merely an extension, a sliver of a much greater and grander whole. And that was the weird part, because – as far as he was aware – Cursed Spirits never embodied the same concepts, which meant, before big red and angry came into being, there already must've been a Cursed Spirit that embodied war and destruction, but had – at some point in its existence – decided to break off pieces of itself to act as independent, but more or less similar entities, almost like if his own fingers, the ones he'd laced with Cursed Energy, became their own separate beings; they'd all still be him, still a part of him, lesser parts of a greater whole, but were now free to do whatever it was they wanted, even fight each other if they could.
So... what the hell kind of Cursed Spirit had a fragment that was this strong?
One could take all the war and suffering and violence on Earth and it still wouldn't be enough to birth a Cursed Spirit even half as powerful as the literal fragment in front of him. No, it'd take worlds... hundreds, maybe even thousands of them, all engaged brutal and violent wars, all riddled in death and desolation, coupled with the suffering and aggression of trillions of souls, then maybe that'd be enough to birth a Cursed Spirit of untold and unfathomable power.
Sukuna grinned as the Cursed Spirit neared him; what a baffling thing it was to ponder. The Cursed Spirit, very briefly, opened its mouth, "Lost child of the Anathema! Come and meet your doom!"
Sukuna raised a brow as he surged forward and strafed around the giant creature, using Cleave, this time, to cut apart both of its massive hoofed legs. Skin, flesh, and bone gave way, but the creature healed so fast it seemed as though it didn't even notice. Oh, it could even regenerate to save itself? But something was... odd about how it did so - different to how other Cursed Spirits healed themselves. For instance, there didn't seem to be any effort on its part at all. Some sort of passive use of Cursed Spirit Healing, perhaps? Different, but similar. Hm, whatever.
Ultimately, all it meant was that he could enjoy this for as long as possible, without worrying if whether or not his opponent was just going to drop dead on him. This was going to be fun. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but right back at you!"
Hundreds and hundreds of Iron Soldiers died around them, mere collateral damage by the Cursed Technique he'd unleashed. And, Sukuna figured, many more would perish as well.
"Ha! I like your spirit, Cursed Child!" The creature turned and swung its axe at him with surprising dexterity for something its size, faster than even the fastest of the metal titans. It didn't hit him, of course, as Sukuna evaded the strike and leapt back, watching with mild interest as it carved the ground apart and formed a crevice. Roaring, the Cursed Spirit spun and hurled one of its axes towards Sukuna, the projectile moving faster than even the fastest rocket of the Iron Soldiers, which meant it was insanely fast, actually. But, its size worked against it and Sukuna weaved just enough so that it passed by him harmlessly. If it did hit, however, then he wouldn't been able to weather the blow, probably; he wouldn't die, at least, but it would hurt a lot.
Cursed Child... that was something to take note of – a term that lacked context, but still seemed important enough.
Sukuna retaliated with a maximum output Cleave, targeting just about every square inch of the Cursed Spirit's massive body. The drain on his output was not negligible, but the effect was definitely worth it as the demonic Cursed Spirit burst and split open in a storm of blood and gore and viscera, only for it to reform with its own burst of Cursed Energy. Amusingly, a titan had apparently emerged to attack both of them, but found itself the unwilling recipient of the stray effects of Cleave, reduced to little more than fragments in the blink of an eye.
His enemy was still alive. Impressive.
Still, the damage was done, Sukuna mused, and the Cursed Spirit's energy output had definitely been hit hard by its regenerative efforts. Blood streamed from the Cursed Spirit's maw as it fell to a knee and chuckled. "Yes, hahahaha! This was the fight I was promised! More! More! Show me more, Cursed Child!"
It was having fun and enjoying itself. That was good. It meant he, the King of Curses, wouldn't be spending this moment of glorious slaughter by his lonesome – a welcome change of pace, he figured.
"You know," Sukuna surged forward and reappeared right above the Cursed Spirit, whereupon he unleashed a twin Cleave strikes into both of the entity's muscular shoulders, slicing its arms in half. Of course, it regenerated, but he'd already expected as much. With this much Cursed Energy Output, extreme healing was to be expected. No, what he watched out for was the rate of regeneration. And it was definitely slower now than when he first sliced its legs. "You keep calling me Cursed Child, but you never really introduced yourself. That's a bit rude between enemies, don't you think?"
He didn't care too much, honestly, but here was an opponent that Sukuna was pretty sure would've beaten him if he'd been in his previous body – an unstoppable maelstrom of carnage and death and violence that even he, the King of Curses, could not have defeated alone, though he would've injured it enough that it would've dissipated after the fight. Now, however, the difference in strength was no longer a certainty, especially since he was still growing stronger, even now.
So, he was pretty sure he'd win, but it definitely wouldn't be easy.
The Cursed Spirit stood up and Sukuna used the top of its head as a stepping stool to launch himself away. As he soared through the air, Sukuna sliced off both of its wings with Cleave, though the Cursed Spirit hardly seemed to notice such a loss. He landed on the ground and dusted away the bits of dirt that'd clung to his bare skin. The giant, crimson Cursed Spirit turned to him, fire and smoke oozing from its skin. "I am Skarbrand, Cursed Child. I am your doom, the doom of worlds."
Somehow, Sukuna did not doubt that second bit.
The Cursed Spirit breathed in and, strangely, its aura of violence and rage and war slowly faded, diminishing with every passing moment. Its stature lessened and it grew shorter and shorter until they were of the same height, its armor shrinking. Its bestial shape faded, somewhat, though it retained its hoofed legs and red skin. Its wings did not regrow, though its horns shrunk and took on more slender shapes. Sukuna's eyes narrowed as Skarbrand held out its free hand and its axe came flying back, now smaller as well. "It has been a very long time since I've made use of this form. Rejoice, Cursed Child, for we shall now fight with all that we have and all that we are."
"Oh?" Fighting larger and bulkier opponents, while destructive, usually always turned out easy; all he had to do was play dirty and make sure he never got hit. Fighting against similarly-sized foes, especially those of a similar level of power, was far trickier. And, it seemed, Skarbrand was aware of that and so made himself smaller. Nice. Sukuna grinned. "This should be fun."
"Fuga!" He chanted, but, instead of summoning the Flaming Arrow of Amaterasu, Sukuna opted for one other tool he'd not used in a while, one of the earliest Cursed Tools he'd ever...borrowed without permission and then sealed into himself. A flash of black and the Trishula appeared in his grasp, a three-headed spear, once wielded by one of the most powerful gods of India, Shiva, otherwise known as the God of Destruction. Sukuna winced, a familiar pain flooding his body. The Trishula was powerful – a little too powerful, honestly. Merely holding it meant it'd slowly destroy his soul. That meant he could use it for about two minutes before it did irreparable damage.
God-weapons were funny like that, especially since this particular one was imbued with a particularly large sliver of the God who once wielded it.
Sukuna grinned despite the pain. It'd been a very long time since he found a foe, who could push him to use his God-weapons. He didn't like using them, honestly. And always preferred not to make use of them at all if he could, especially against fun opponents, even if the possibility of losing to them was real. But, every once in a while, Sukuna found a few who were outright stronger than himself. What harm was there in balancing the scales, right? "If I can't kill you in the next two minutes, then you win."
Skarbrand's lone eye narrowed. "Where did you get that weapon?"
Unfortunately, he did not have even the slightest time to answer. So, Sukuna responded by surging forward and bringing the Trishula down on Skarbrand's head. The Cursed Spirit weaved out of the way and countered by swinging both axes in a horizontal arc towards Sukuna's exposed face. The King of Curses grinned and let loose a flicker of Cursed Energy into the Trishula, unleashing its power. The ground shook as a wave of pure destruction followed, forming a wreath of stars and cosmic bodies around Sukuna, before rapidly expanded outwards in an explosion that melted and burned just about anything and everything it came into contact with, reducing even the titans into pools of molten slag.
But Skarbrand just stood there, even when the wave of destruction stripped away the flesh from his body and left behind only a blazing skeleton. See that was the reason why Sukuna brought out the Trishula; no other Sorcerer or Cursed Spirit could've survived such a thing. And yet, he knew, for a fact, that Skarbrand was still very much alive. Somehow, the Cursed Spirit's skull was smiling. Sukuna smiled back. "Heh. You're an interesting one."
He then swung Trishula hard as Skarbrand slowly recovered, sending the skeletal spirit hurling into the distant mountain, kicking up a great cloud of dust. Sukuna then followed up the attack by unleashing another wave of destruction right at Skarbrand, a blob of stars and starlight and cosmic dust that traveled rapidly towards the center of all the dust and debris. The resulting explosion shook the earth, piercing cloud and sky and crust. And the mountain, thousands of meters in height, collapsed atop of Skarbrand, a hundred thousand metric tons of molten rock.
"That ought to do some damage."
Sukuna breathed in and fell to a knee, blood gushing from his mouth and nose. His grip over the Trishula faltered. And he knew he'd reached the end of this particular path. Sukuna gritted his teeth.
Tsk, that was his limit, after all this time?
He hadn't even been able to use the more powerful abilities of the God-weapon. Sighing, the King of Curses banished the God-weapon away before it could corrode his soul any further.
And it hadn't even been twenty seconds yet.