The Strongest Sorcerer of Tomorrow

by Aaaaaaert

How would he ever be able to face the world again? From within the depths of Fushiguro Megumi's soul, Ryomen Sukuna had spoken that question. It kept echoing in his head, over and over again... so he had to ask himself honestly: Could he truly keep living? After all the failures he had amounted to? He couldn't, he truly couldn't. When the final Black Flash fell, so did his life.

43. Leithanien

Madness and chaos, the rampant streets of Chernobog was nothing but a toppling line of dominoes. Like it had been shown before, the people attempting to make their way out of the unforecasted arrival of an eight-headed serpent which dwarfed the skies were continuously finding their legs locked against each other.

With such uncoordinated panic rummaging through their bodies and bleeding into their nervous systems, their sudden response of 'flight' had been hampered dearly. In times of peril such as this, those who bore a light heart unable to withstand great pressures would freeze up, especially after having felt the cold groans of the concrete floor.

For some of the more foolish ones who brandished their silver lined cellphones to point it toward the clouded skies, they were forced to backpedal with the crowd, lest they wish to be washed away by the raging tsunami. However, their unfounded 'courage' would be rewarded with a befuddling sight.

Above where the charred firmament was, there was no longer any kind of beast which had been sharpening its fangs toward the city. Even though such a confirmation was right before their eyes, the mass hysteria of the crowd did not quell in the slightest. Like awaiting for an aftershock of an earthquake—or being wholly ignorant of its enigmatic departure—there would be no sense of respite present.

Being beholden to a sight of crimson lightning cackling its laughter across the clouds and downward at them like a wrathful deity, it would be suffice to say that the lingering bale of the thunderclouds did nothing to ease their hearts much either. From an outside perspective, anybody would dread being in such a position of anarchy, where all points led to nothing but delirium and hopelessness.

The worst part? All were merely illusions of their own making. Through the flailing limbs and heinous shouts, there was no mercy for anybody who fell behind in the crowd, or who were washed away by the waves of human bodies crashing against each other. When presented with a threat far taller than even the epoch of a mountain, there is not much the ordinary human body could do to fend against it.

Even if all sights and abnormalities in the sky were vanquished straight from view—as if they had never existed—the damage had been dealt. Deep within the neurological sights of those who had witnessed their lives flashing before their eyes in front of an electric viscera, was a primal fear deeply sunken in.

The events that had occurred during that day would be a wake up message to Chernobog and Ursus, and a message soon to spread all across every inch of the country. There was no doubt to every hysterical citizen's idea that this was a searing hot rod of agony pressing against their skin, prodding against it until it broke through.

Just as the rays of the sun had finally stabbed through a gap of the storm clouds, emitting a pillar of faint yellow light. Once again though, no response or jubilant glee was given toward what should have been a hopeful scene presented within the stage of a play, for a single ray of clarity was not enough.

In a military base, superiors who stood at the upper echelon of their ranks were scrambling to respond to such an event. Even if the purview of what was happening right now in their city was a daunting and herculean task that seemed impossible to face against, they knew something had to be done. A fast and steady response was needed, to send out young soldiers and cannon-fodder to 'stabilize' the scene and calm the crowd.

While those who sat on cushy high chairs which towered above everybody else pointed their fingers of what should happen, those who were unfortunate enough to lay beneath them were forced to follow wherever the direction of their finger was. Even if it were to be the gaping maw of what would essentially be an unstoppable beast, it would be their obligation and duty—through and through.

The chain of command was as steady as however the aristocrats and nobles wanted it to be. Those who stood above even the superiors of the soldiers were hidden in the shadows, cloaked away in the rich adornment of luxurious fabric to never be seen—aside from those who knew too much. That was what the simple message relayer of the Ursus Imperial Army felt, scrambling through the halls of the military base they were stationed at.

Despite being in such a protected and fortified castle which could stand strong even in the fiercest of storms, the Ursus man felt as if this place was merely a swamp of danger in disguise. Maybe it was his fault, completely his fault for being at the wrong place and the wrong time, accidentally catching a glimpse of files he shouldn't have. It related to what was occurring back in the tundras, perhaps some higher-up had left it unattended on a desk and he was too damned curious for his own good.

He didn't wish to ponder in his brain anymore, so he dragged it far deep into the recesses of his mind. Just thinking about it had made the Ursus man fear that somebody had been reading it, and would immediately report him to the correct authorities to have things 'sorted' out. All it took was a mere dash of a pen against white paper for the comfort of his life to collapse in itself.

So what now? All he could do was go about his day like nothing had happened, and do his duties as a message relayer of the current happenings in Chernobog. What was happening? A goddamned eight-headed serpent had happened. An impossibility that he had thought was in fantasy books was rearing its ugly head toward them. Now was not the time to think of such things however, he needed to send this to his superiors as soon as possible!

Running through the hallways which were filled with whispers and disbelief of what was happening across the news, the Ursus man felt his bear ears start to irritably twitch. Despite how the wind brushed against his ear and provided a screen for noise to be hampered, he could still hear everything in vivid detail. Being one of the first people who had witnessed it at the beginning of the news' havoc however, he knew what he had to do.

Making many twists and turns across this designated military base which felt like a maze built by the engineers to spite soldiers who couldn't be bothered to memorize hundreds of meters of land—he felt more thin layers of sweat start to ooze on his palms. Over and over in his mind, he reminded himself that nobody had seen him take a peek at the files, and that the current happenings in Chernobog were a godsend for him.

Yes, indeed, the eight-headed serpent causing a ruckus across the citizens of Ursus was definitely a terrifying thing to witness. But he wasn't a soldier in the traditional sense, more of a pencil pusher in this military base. Not only that, but he would continuously be pushed around by his colleagues and superiors as the message boy who delivered what they wanted.

By the entire military of this city's attention shifting to the eight-headed serpent that had appeared, then what he shouldn't have seen would be pushed under the rugcompletely.There was no doubt about it, who would care about such things when a monstrous creature of greater focus and scale was upon this city!

Who cares about the civilians that would fall? They weren't directly involved with him, and the Ursus man was even glad that this was happening. The military base was a decent distance away from the scenery anyways, and they had countless bunkers in case they were bombarded with building destroying artillery. All he had to do was alert his superiors, and then run to hide off somewhere—permission be damned.

He remembered the areas he was traversing through like the back of his hands, every nick and cranny being like the wrinkles of his skin. Tracing through his memories to find his route to be as accurate as ever, the Ursus man made one last turn of what he believed would lead him to the place that he needed to be.

There it was, the steel laced doors which held enough girth where it could stop an point-blank Originium bomb explosion. However, there was a joke amongst engineers who he had overheard, that the door was so heavily fortified that the walls around it would collapse before it did. Whether it was some sort of oversight or what they had really wanted, the Ursus man didn't care much.

Coughing into a balled fist which was shaking too much for his liking, he had gotten the kinks and roughness out of his voice. Moisture started to fill it, clearing it of any potential dryness just as his mind did with his worries. Once everything had been sorted out in that regard, his fingers slowly and deliberately moved up to his uniform, fixing any minute imperfections that were on it. The collar was a bit slanted to the right, his tie was slightly loose, and the cuffs reaching to his wrists were starting to unfold.

When his fingers fixed a crinkle that was on the cuff of his uniform's wrist section, he had finally breathed in a long breath before exhaling, letting all the negative energy that had overtaken him today completely fade away. Now he was ready, and with that, his hands moved to press upon the button that acted as a doorbell for anybody inside the room. They needed to be secure after all, and any cracks in their security had already been put in place.

Just as the sensation of his finger pushing the contraption deeper into its socket, did his eyes turn away from the piece of mundane technology. For some reason, he could have sworn there was a small irregularity with the otherwise familiar object in front of him. The steel door looked to be... slightly off its hinges? Why was that so? Was it... was it slightly cracked open?

His breath hitched for a moment, freezing as he had finished interacting with the doorbell system. Locked onto the slight discrepancy that had made itself known, the Ursus man felt as if something was clawing at his brain and telling him that everything was completely wrong. At that moment, the worries of the files were vanquished, and the fear of the eight-headed serpent had become nothing but phantoms.

He pressed the doorbell again after an unknown time had passed, his pupils constricting as sweat continued to waterfall down from his forehead. Usually, he would wipe away such an indecent stain upon his image, especially if it were in front of the superiors who stood over him haughtily. However, he couldn't, he just couldn't with this black miasma welling up in his chest and decaying it from the inside out.

His breathing became irregular when pressing the doorbell for the third time, making sure it was after enough time had passed for their response to be possible. The result was the same, insanity starting to leak into him with how many attempts he was willing to go with this. Not even a single sound that would act as thunder within silence had come from the other side, any signs of humanity having been gone.

It was then his anxiety had reached its peak, conditioned and sharpened into a sharp blade that had been pressing against the soft flesh of his neck. Not being able to bear it for much longer, the Ursus man placed his hand on the steel door and pushed his body weight forward. It moved along its hinges as it completely opened, presenting him with a sight of—

—A burnt streak spanned across the walls, lichtenberg arcs of electricity scarring the wall in black charcoal rippling colors. Heads laid strewn about on the floor, the sound of boiling blood could be heard as the rancid sound permeated the air in the form of steam. There was a straight tear across the walls which told of a story, one where a magnificent blade had streaked through.

His mouth opened in disbelief, his jaw going slack. If it hadn't been attached to the upper portion of his skull, he was sure it would have fallen to the ground and shattered into a million particles, just like glass. No such thing happened, however, as he was forced to bear witness to an orchestrated scene of macabre and carnage.

A black apparition stood at the center of the massacre they had caused. Held in their right hand was a large blade which looked like it had two guards attached to its long blade, flowing white cloth dorning some parts of it. A chime of a bell could be heard invading the air, as if a wind was being blown within the building to cause them to breathe life. What was most shocking of all, was the crimson lightning imperceptibly waltzing across the blade in brief intervals, very much similar to...

...His thoughts were short-lived, just as the life of an Infected in Chernobog. Those decadent eyes filled with nothing but malevolence and promises of agony were staring straight into his own. The figure wasn't staring at him before, having his back turned... but now their head was turned back, seemingly assessing all parts of his body which they could butcher.

It was at this moment that he felt like nothing but a pig under the cleaver of a heartless man, ready to sever the coil of life which was attached to the miserable animal's neck. Perhaps it was a trick of the mind or an illusion, but he could already hear the cracking of his neck, and the splitting of flesh as it went flying off and onto the ground—to join his shitty superiors in their journey to hell.

However, the moment he blinked in the gobsmacked stupor he was in, did the outline completely disappear. The world which was once nothing but uncanny scribbles had returned back to normal, and all the corpses sitting at the roundtable had been put back in place, headless in all their glory.

Choking on his breath at both the fear that was skinning him and the rabid breaths of stink that smelled like it had come from a burdenbeast's unwashed mouth, did the Ursus man retch and feel puke start to form at the base of his throat. Placing his hand over his mouth and taking a step back, he could hear his foot clashing harshly against the floor with the untrained step.

"Hey! What are you doing over here?! Don't you know what's going on!"

A panicked voice bashed at him from the back of the head, making the Ursus man freeze in place. His sights were still at the scene of gore in front of him, constantly blinking to make sure he was still seeing things right. Much to his heart-dropping chagrin was that the scene remained the same, bolstering his anxiety to precedented levels.

"...Hello?! Did you hear me? What's that atrocious smell?! We have bigger problems here!"

The voice continued to call at him, making his pupils constrict to levels that he would have never thought possible. His voice was stuck in his throat, an obstruction had been formed and hadn't let it leave through his thorax. There was a flight, fight, or freeze response in every human body, and his body had chosen the latter to respond to the questioning voice.

By the time their rushed footsteps made it to where he was, the Ursus man had already accepted that his life was over. Like a building collapsing under its own weight, did he immediately faint and crash onto the ground, leaving a sound of a human body crashing against the marbled floor.

The rolling white platforms laid above the sky were illuminated brightly by the early morning star held deep in the horizon's wake. It became a bleached light colored in a bright buttercup, covering everything that hadn't steered clear in its path, which just so happened to be the entire world of Terra. Unless it was the deepest pits of screaming souls which denied the reality of the truest environment that humanity stood on, there was a defensible thesis that could be made in regards to the sun's endless kiss of love.

It was an ethereal sight to be bestowed to. Anybody who stood under its embrace were more likely than not to experience its soft whispers which spoke comfort into their ears. A fuzzy warmth would build up to reach a pinnacle, but unlike the peak of the mountains which were a frigid bite upon one's fair skin, this one was an ephemeral caress.

Fushiguro Megumi could attest to such a vivid experience, feeling his body melt under the grasp of this newfound luxury given to him upon a lustrous silver platter. However, even such platters that bore the most pure of silver, aureate of gold, or star streaked laces of platinum were always something of repulsion for him.

If somebody morepassionatelyinclined to the beauty of nature had heard his words, the Ten Shadows user was sure he would be getting an earful enough to bloat an entire house. Said house would most likely be regurgitating all contents within a hurried fit, like the story of how a man had died from eating an entire horse.

Was that how it went? Well, it didn't matter much to him at the moment, not many things did when being lost in the vast plains of his mind.

There was nothing for him to be happy about, not once did he feel the need to dilly dally when he had stepped foot out of Ursus. His mission was completed, the papers and reports having been written the moment the disappearance of Yamata-no-Orochi had happened, but there was something that was missing, an empty void that formed both in the process and his stomach. That was right, it was just missing the stamp, and whoever it would be from—he did not know.

A song had been sung amongst the sands when the rough tires of the charcoal jeep fitted for land traversal were grinding upon them. It wasn't anything glorious or pleasing to the ears, but it served as well as any distraction would be. The monotony of silence was always a grueling task to push through, making the incessant sounds of mundaness a much more preferable experience to such a tortuous thing.

The thin and rustic map found from the sea tainted laboratory back in the salted city of Primavera was laid out on the side of Megumi. It was a useful tool for getting a layout of the entire crust which he and Laurentina stood upon, the lodestar which illuminated a path for them to follow. It had led them by the hand to Ursus, and now it was going to bring them to the lands of Leithanien.

"You know," Laurentina glanced outside the illusory panes of the window, revealing the world outside the comfort of their fortified vehicle, "what brought you to desire a visit to Leithanien? Was it of a small consideration or have you been premeditated this long before?" The Abyssal Hunter didn't know if Megumi was much of a person to plan things, all occurrences that seemed to spring up around him was... how should she say this? Random? Yes, that was a perfect word to describe it.

Megumi let out a hum of agreement, whether the other party knew of which clause he was referring to, he didn't really care to elaborate much further on the matter. There was a dampening occurrence to his mood, like a wet towel placed over a flame flickering, dispelling it out of the existence it found itself so passionately in.

The black haired man made up his reply, "well, I have a letter of invitation given to me." Megumi got up from his lethargic position and brought his left arm outwards, the letter of invitation forming on his hands.

The object looked to be as ordinary as any parchment paper folded together to look like a letter. However, a clinical eye could immediately detect all discrepancies and secrets finely crafted into it. From the molecular cloud-like creases across its body, or the red wax seal decorated with a fine crimson kiss, an analysis could be made of it.

"Fancy," Laurentina said, looking far more intrigued than usual, "I can tell that's somereallyimportant item you have in your hands. For the dry land's standards, I would say it must hold some value with the artistic sense it has—but it falls flat. Looks to be more... How do I say this? Pretentious?" She spoke her criticisms along with her understanding.

"...How do you know if something is pretentious or not?" Megumi flapped the letter in the air a few times, feeling the fanning motion blow the air in a spherical pattern. His dull voice continued on, "to me, it just looks like a normal letter—noting more, nothing less." The Sorcerer truly could not see what she was talking about when saying it was 'pretentious.'

"What can I say, Princess? For a lavishly decorated piece of paper like that, I would have expected myself to find any hint of interest in it," she miffed out in response to him, shrugging. "Turns out all it's made for is to holler its elegy of wealth to all those who bear witness to it, there's nothing but vanity to be seen from it."

"That's certainly a way of putting it," the Sorcerer whispered out, but held a high enough octave so the Abyssal Hunter could still hear him. In fact, he was sure that even if he did whisper with his head turned away from her, Laurentina would still be able to hear every single minute detail of his words.

"How did it come into your possession?" Laurentina pressed her index finger against her glossy pink bottom lip, turning a gaze toward him. "By all means, it must have been some influential person who gave it to you. Well, as if the 'letter of invitation' part hadn't already given it away," she let out a huff of amusement.

"It's complicated, very,verycomplicated." Megumi thinned his lips when recalling that fateful day. When the 'eccentric' Sankta had walked up to him while he was grovelling due to his injuries back in the alleyway, and pushed the letter onto him. "Nothing awe-inspiring like saving the life of an influential person or currying a favor... it was more like somebody who is connected to an influential person had given me the invitation letter in their name."

"What for?" Laurentina felt her curiosity spike at that moment, "don't tell me they just handed something as special as that to you for no reason? Actually, how influential is the person that letter is leading you to?"

"I caught her interest, that's why she gave me the letter," Megumi said with a sigh, "the person the letter is connected to is... how do I put this?" The Sorcerer scrambled through his brain for how he remembered Swire and Ch'en describing Werner von Hochberg, "the person who handed me the letter, if anything negative happens to her while in another country, it would cause a diplomatic political disaster."

"Oh my, how did you catch the attention of such a troublesome person to the point it would warrant an invitation?" Laurentina placed a hand over her mouth with an amused look, her eyes nearly becoming crescent moons. "Also, 'she?' Did you just so happen to seduce—"

"No way," Megumi shot her a small glare while grumbling, "That is too much of an impossibility. If so, she's the last person I would want to be interested in me." The Sorcerer tapped his finger on the steering wheel, the resounding thumps crossing his ears in order to calm down his overactive mind.

"Is that so?" Laurentina hummed, before moving her head and laying it down on the black haired man's lap, watching as a jolt of electricity came through his body. "You don't seem to like this person," she found herself comfortable from her position, as there was nothing to obstruct her from where she was at.

Megumi decided to let her be and reply, "she's... complicated." That was the best reply he could give about Arturia. Seeing the all-knowing look upon her face was something he found irritating, especially when they argued with whatever subject had been brought up. "I owe her a favor because she aided me before."

The Aegir felt something wrong with those words, "youoweher a favor?" Laurentina couldn't help but find that statement ominous.

"She saved my life, and helped me with a grave problem." Megumi sighed, "visiting her in Leithanien is the best I can do to repay her."

"Yet you still find her to be the unruly type?"

"...I can also consider you to be 'the unruly type' too, you know?" Megumi blandly shot back in response. However, his pupils immediately contracted when he felt a pressure on his thigh, making him wince.

"Care to repeat that?" Laurentina moved her head upwards and rested it against his shoulder, pinching her nails against his leg. "I didn'tquitehear that just now."

"What I meant to say..." Megumi could the pressure slightly release itself "...is that woman had also caused me many problems before. I believe you could say with certainty that sheisthe unruly type."

"Hm, what kind of problems would you say? Don't tell me it was something that put this little Princess in jeopardy~," Laurentina let out a nod of affirmation, content with keeping her head resting on his shoulder.

Megumi kept his mouth shut, because her description had hit the bullseye on the mark, digging deep into the wooden target frame.

"...I take your silence as me being correct," Laurentina huffed a sigh, "what is it with you and wooing every woman you meet?" She poked at his cheek with a chiding expression.

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Megumi felt his eye twitch, "I'm not 'wooing' anybody."

"Truly?" Laurentina tilted her head with a disbelieving look,'then what of that time with that frost bunny, that ashen dragon, and now this... unknown woman?'She was starting to find this case to be far more curious than she imagined. "Haha~, I'm merely jesting," the Aegir whispered into his ears before breaking off contact. "Let's leave it at that."

"Agreed," Megumi let out a huff, letting the air dispel from his chest. He really couldn't see himself as the Abyssal Hunter was describing. The Sorcerer was somewhat of an antisocial man, only providing brief commentary to other people at most.'...So why... why does she think I'm a womanizer?'

The Sorcerer sent a discreet look at the humming woman, before turning his eyes back on the rocky road that was before them. There was no need to dive deep into why she viewed him as a playboy, that much was certain for now, because was more inclined to believe them to be just a joke.'That seems more reasonable.'

There was alway something that drove him like a car through a road. For Fushiguro Megumi, he would say what drove him was a 'goal.' Everybody possesses a goal deep in their hearts, whether they are aware of it or not. It was only those who lacked a direction bathed with light who didn't.

In his case, the Jujutsu Sorcerer had the same standard obligation all others in his occupation took up. To become stronger. Whether it be from refining one's Cursed Technique or Cursed Energy usage, they were all the structures meant to mash up together to hold him in a tower which soared upwards toward the skies.

Megumi recalled he had about two months in this world right now. The constant runs of training he did upon a treadmill field with infinite energy was the most accurate way he could describe it. Even if it were back in Lungmen, Primavera, or Ursus; those twelve hours he had spent like forest green papered money were paying off in dividends.

Releasing his right hand from the steering wheel and curling his fingers into an iron hardened fist, Megumi took a moment to stare at it. It was for a brief second, but his eyes caught sight of a swirling inferno of blue curses that continued to flicker a small campfire. Incandescently and unknowingly, it turned into a flaxen color.

"Flames?" Laurentina looked away from where she was to gauge curiously at the little 'parlor trick' Megumi was entertaining.'No, those don't feel like flames at all, nor is there any increase in temperature that I can feel. Pure Arts energy, then,'It possessed the same talisman of accursedness, plastered for everybody in the vicinity to see.

Thankfully, the only person within the vicinity was somebody who understood the black haired man on a more intrinsic level—rather than a stranger who could misinterpret his every prose and workings as pure malevolence.

"It's just my energy," Megumi replied to the woman while keeping his thoughts steady. The exertion of Cursed Energy and attempting to shape it how the Sorcerer viewed was a good way to hone its skills. It was sculpted, like the pale marble of a statue being fixated into the form which the artist desired.

He didn't receive much of a response, only the observing eyes of the shark. While multitasking by keeping his eyes concentrated on the road and controlling his Cursed Energy fluctuations, it provided a good training method. Even if it wasn't the most effective method that he could be using, Megumi didn't mind much.

Thinking back to other matters to pass the time, Megumi remembered all of his Cursed Tools. After his exit from Ursus, all of them had already been completed. Dragon-Bone, the Inverted Spear of Heaven, Playful Cloud, and the Chain of a Thousand Miles have been enhanced; changing into far greater forms. For the Inverted Spear of Heaven, its transformation was only temporary.

But for everything else? He now possessed Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, the Grass Cutting Blade, Homusubisu, the Esteemed Flaming Armament, and Samyojana, the Thousand Fettered Constriction. The second was Playful Cloud's transformed state, and the third was the Chain of a Thousand Miles.

Even if he hadn't had much usage over Samyojana, he remembered the philosophy applied when creating it. He could only infuse one Cursed Technique into it, considering how its Cursed Technique was to extend endlessly. Megumi had believed he should have put Piercing Ox into it, but scrapped the idea.

There was another thing he had applied to the chain, which was Rabbit Escape's ability. With that in place, he could make multiple chains and fire them off from his shadows, acting as a utility that could restrict his enemy's movements. The best part? Since Rabbit Escape's ability could multiply it into several chains, that meant he could still leave an extra chain to attach to the Inverted Spear of Heaven.

"You look happy," Laurentina propped her head upwards with her palm, staring at the corners of his lips itching to rise up. "What has your amiability this time?" She asked him.

"It's nothing." Right after, Megumi shifted his expression into its usual neutral one.

'...I'll save the teasing for later, then,'Laurentina thought amusedly. Their route to Leithanien should be much faster than from Iberia to Ursus, as the path they were travelling upon was much shorter.'Where will we be going to first? Ah, I remember, Sturmland,'that was where the letter of invitation had directed them.

Megumi checked the compartments of the truck, the Internal Combustion Engine fueled by the mystique of Originium continued to pump like a beating heart. Instead of blood being flowed across the veins of a human, energy was being transferred to make the car's greased gears function.

His black haori was off, the white cloak given by FrostNova also having long since been put back in his shadows. The Jujutsu Sorcerer was no longer in a frigid environment, so there was no need to put on layers of clothing this far into the wastelands. For the haori, he didn't wish for the flowy coat to get caught up in his current actions. Having to clean off Originium soot would be far too annoying.

At that point, destroying the haori and restoring it with Reverse Cursed Technique would have been a far more effective option to clean it. In a way, it wasn't far too dissimilar from the way Gojo Satoru and Ryomen Sukuna had exploded their Prefrontal Cortex and then fixed it back together—like duct tape to a rundown vehicle.

Megumi let out a grunt, getting his hands dirty in the compartments. The close proximity that he was to the still steaming engine, along with the intense heat permeating from it in veils of thin smoke would make any logical Terran scream at him for his risky moves. However, you couldn't become a true Jujutsu Sorcerer if the concept of risk was aversive and terrifying.

Or in other words: plain stupidity.

Breathing in the humes wasn't a pleasant experience, but the black haired man had wished to proceed with this process as quickly as possible. For a fair reason too, as the damage that the engine had sustained wasn't anything too major, and it was only a few parts that had become loose. A turn or two from his Dharmachakra would provide him with enough—

KLNK

—To let him repair the engine. Megumi didn't feel the same exhilaration as he did when creating Cursed Tools, perhaps because he wasn't particularly possessing any passion in regards to repairing a car engine. This wouldn't provide him any benefits in combat, and the educational experience he gained from this would be... negligible at best.

Coming up with reasons that this brief moment of struggle would eventually aid him in the future, the Sorcerer continued to analyze the parts of the engine in much clearer detail. The information needed flowed into his head naturally, his head coming up with innovative ways to use the tools beside him to fix it.

Or well, he would have been using the tools provided to him by Laurentina, but Megumi had completely forgotten about them. What did he decide to do? As Itadori Yuji would, barehanding the parts of the engine and fixing them back together. A brilliant strategy, which wouldn't cause him any damage thanks to Cursed Energy reinforcement.

A few applications of Reverse Cursed Technique would also do the trick if there were any damage that would require more than sticking a few things back in place. He needed to be extra careful though, applying the Positive Energy as a surgeon would to their critical patient. Any misstep could potentially cause the Originium part to react negatively or be hampered—causing further damage in the process.

After a few more minutes of applying Positive Energy to fix the combustion engine, Megumi finally pulled back and heaved a sigh, stretching his arms from its previously stagnant position. Turning to the right, he saw the tent that he and Laurentina had set for the night, after the engine had been busted.

He wouldn't mind some rest, they'd start their journey again tomorrow.

Megumi sat within the furls of Divine Dog: Totality's soft furred body, feeling like a nice blanket in which he could find warmth inside. While petting the massive wolf under the chin, feeling his fingers bristle through its fur, the black haired man felt a few thoughts coming to him. It was all in relation to the events back in Ursus, Lungmen, and Primavera. All of which had beensoeventful ever since he had entered the world.

He could say it almost surpassed all the crap that had been thrown to him back on Earth, dirtying him to a disgusting degree. That was the cycle of a Jujutsu Sorcerer, getting down and dirty in whatever they did. Despite having been pulled far away from the rotting mold of Jujutsu Society, its phantom grasp still followed him here.

...Fushiguro Megumi knew that Fate had toyed with him, like a child interested in some toy that had just gotten. Just as Reggie Star had said, the Sorcerer had become a clown and then died, humiliated in the worst ways possible when his body was possessed by the King of Curses. There was nothing he could do when being forced by their whims, being swept away by the cosmic powers that be.

If it even existed.

Heaving a sigh, he had to reiterate to himself that he had only severed the notion of becoming that destined clown by Fate. The actions he had pulled were illogical and completely selfish, becoming the enemy of an entire nation and spreading fear to an entire city—no different from a plague corrupting flesh and reaping lives. All these activities were... truly that of a clown, and the Sorcerer could only gnash his teeth as he kept being pushed to do such things.

The drastic measures which scaled up to mile long distances weren't something that he was proud of, now that enough time had passed. It was like looking back at what he had done back in high school and middle school, beating up thugs in his grade whenever they pulled something unruly... it was truly embarrassing.

Thinking back to those times would make himself scrunch up his face and groan to himself internally. This time though, those experiences no longer mattered, because he had far more important things to worry about; such as finding his place in this completely new world. Patriot had said it best, he didn't belong here, and the Sorcererwasn'tgoing to act likehe did.

If he wanted to go back to his original world, then keeping an unclouded mind of what he wanted to do was crucial. Megumi didn't want to see himself getting too attached to this place, and he doubted he was ever with how the shitty experience had been. Despite his rapid growth which fueled his mentality as a true Sorcerer, the Ten Shadows user would always find himself with a hangover after the high ended.

Looking upwards toward the canvas of illuminated lights dotted within the vast expanse of a void-like world, it was like he was staring at a completely different plane of existence. To reach back home, Megumi had realized he would have to find some way to cross that boundless distance which separated him and the place where he desired to go.

It was an impossibility, the whisperwind prohibiting any chance of that happening. Yet believing that it was an unreachable goal, such as how humans once thought reaching the skies and piercing the heavens into space wasn't achievable. For Fushiguro Megumi, he desired and wept to cross the skies, the moon, the stars, and perhaps even space itself—to eventually reach his vision.

Shaking his head and letting out a grumble, the black haired man felt a greater sense of despair overtake him. Reminding himself over and over again with these positive notions and desires was doing absolutely nothing for him. He was the clown for a new Fate, casted alone in a different world where he could never truly connect with. If the Sorcerer didn't do anything quick, he would die just as he was foretold.

"Hey," Megumi pressed the back of his head against Divine Dog: Totality, hearing the creature let out a small sound of recognition to his words. "I haven't thought much about it, but all of you are pretty intelligent, huh?" He patted its head, watching as the Shikigami started to let out adorable sounds, despite its menacing disposition.

It was a towering beast of war meant for complete and utter dominance against its prey. The sharpened claws which could tear against the flesh of even Special Grade Cursed Spirits, who were said to be able to take on cluster bombs with great ease. Divine Dog: Totality's merged hide also provided it with a significant amount of defense, the honed leg muscles chiseled to perfection, providing a speed at which it could cover grand distances.

"...I wonder, could I teach you?" Megumi whispered out, watching as the Shikigami continued to melt into his embrace, just as the Sorcerer was doing with it.'I remember, I channeled Yamata-no-Orochi's lightning through myself with Shadow Extension, and Divine Dog: Totality had a small spark of it appear on their claws.'

It was a brief flash of red lightning that he saw upon its body, utilized as a weapon to stake claim to lives. There was an irregularity with the Totality's Cursed Energy, and Megumi wanted to explore this more, especially with the amount of intelligence all of his Shikigamis had held.

"Let's go train," Megumi spoke up resolutely, letting all negative thoughts pass through his head so that he wouldn't have to bear the burden of them anymore. They would come back, but the Sorcerer made sure it would not impede his path right now, "I want to know more about you, how about that?"

He continued to caress its fur, the werewolf nodding in agreement with a small bark. The Sorcerer had known it ever since he was a child, one of the only friends which he could confide in during his times of great despair. Even now, the idea still rang ever true, like the loud chime of a large bell across a city's horizon.

It was time to test a theory.

There were Shikigamis that have been said to be able to form a Domain with the trajectories they moved in. In the case of somebody named Dhruv, who overtook the archipelago of Japan during one of its first ever wars, he was able to utilize his birds to fly in a way which formed them. Megumi had decided to take a bit of inspiration in this, especially with his far more intelligent Shikigami.

"Like this, look," Megumi said while extending a clenched fist toward Divine Dog: Totality. He watched as the Shikigami glanced at it with a tilt of its head, seemingly observing the changes and distortions within his Cursed Energy. "To use Falling Blossom Emotion, you have to coat yourself in Cursed Energy and apply your protective 'instincts' and 'emotion' into it. Theoretically, you should be able to apply something like that, because you also possess Cursed Energy."

Falling Blossom Emotion, the titular Secret Art which is taught to the high echelons of the Three Great Clans of Jujutsu Society. Megumi remembered Gojo rambling about learning the technique when he was just a child, an impressively absurd feat. It was also why he had also attempted to teach the young Ten Shadows user how to use it himself, much to no avail.

Megumi wasn't a genius like his teacher after all, so having to get a grasp of it was not something the black haired man could do with his age. Therefore, the young Gojo Satoru had decided to just give up. The Strongest Sorcerer was excellent in explaining theoretical things, but teaching somebody how to put it into practice was another thing entirely. Suffice to say, he was not skilled in that regard at all.

Divine Dog: Totality stared at his enclosed fist, watching the swirling energy form an unstable fixture of Cursed Energy. They were malleable, able to take up any form just as most metals of the periodic table are. With its flexible trait being akin to that of a metal—perhaps even far superior—the energy was versatile in many regards. It is only further proven with all the applications stored within the volatile energy's history.

The Sorcerer kept silent, staring at the yellow jeweled eyes of the Shikigami. It continued to stare with great focus from what Megumi could analyze from it, but to the level of how a human would wasn't something that he was completely sure about. This entire thing was a mere conjecture created from him, a theory which needed its hypothesis tested, and the surrounding environment was his lab. Could have been better, but he was going to settle with that.

The Shikigami growled, finally making a sound after having been muted by whatever externalities were plaguing it. Totality's fur started to prick, the Cursed Energy coming off it starting to churn and spike, but nothing else had happened. If anything, the werewolf looked to be straining its existence in this world, its physical body being tampered by the circulation of its blood—Cursed Energy itself.

"This..." Megumi's eyes widened, wondering what else needed to be done for the Shikigami to be able to do what it needed.'What can I...'the coursing energy was more unstable than his own, unfocused and untamed. It was like all those times he had stared down a Shikigami of the Ten Shadows which hadn't undergone the subjugation ritual, how they would never heed the commands of anybody inferior to them.

However, Divine Dogs was the first ever Shikigami granted to him by the blessing of this Cursed Technique. It was his first companion, one as esteemed as the Divine General in terms of intrinsic value and sentimentality. This singular Shikigami was the basis for every attempt he had undertaken to tame the other Shikigamis. So, this one time, he wished to help it just as it had helped him all the other times.

If Fate was going to make him his clown, the Fushiguro Megumi would gladly double down on it. Whatever it had in store for him, the Sorcerer was going to be the Jester of Fate, and take all the benefits it provided him; while also pushing away all the detriments it would throw toward him.'I won't be controlled by you.'The mental enemy created in his mind made the Sorcerer grit his teeth and concentrate.

A Shikigami was created by Cursed Energy and was provided by that useful energy to come into existence in the first place. The higher the Cursed Energy reserves of a person and their output, the stronger the Shikigami would be when summoned. There was also a way to use chants in order to temporarily bolster their abilities, so Megumi had decided to command Rabbit Escape to speak the chant for Divine Dog: Totality, while he cycled more Cursed Energy for the Totality.

Heaving in a breath, the clam strain that he felt was far different than calling on something like Yamata-no-Orochi. Instead of having his reserves sapped like a rig to an oil well, it felt like it was calmly flowing out in short intervals through a sink faucet. It was much more manageable than the behemoth of a Totality, which made sense in his opinion.

Despite what he felt from his Cursed Energy being drained, Megumi was sure that it wouldn't matter much in combat. Given a few days of working on his refinement in this specific regard, it would be improved to the point where it would practically cost nothing to do this. With those thoughts in mind, the Sorcerer continued to—

—Something changed. Something about the Shikigami in front of him had changed, and Megumi blinked owlishly at the emanating aura from it. Usually, his summons did not possess an aura as normal Jujutsu Sorcerers would have when they output more strength, but Divine Dog: Totality did. It was black and white in color, mixing together to form an unnatural color and texture which surrounded them.

"Wow..." Megumi let out an entranced breath, watching the miracle happening in front of him. Despite the coursing and coalescing scribbles of Cursed Energy enshrouding the Totality with a baleful frame, the Sorcerer could only feel pride for it. Pride that it had grown this far, and pride for himself to be able to do such a thing. "Now... Can you follow what I can do?" His voice was softer, feeling the connection he had with his Shikigami.

The night continued on in its hollow echo, one which had no object to bounce off of to reflect back to its origin. An open and vast plain laid around Fushiguro Megumi, with only the sights of tents and rocks gorging into the land were visible. If anything, the sharp crystalline objects protruding upwards were Heaven's artillery having found its way to batter the earth once more. It was a beautiful scenery, one fit for the swaying cohorts of particles dancing to one another, producing a flickering scene oh so splendid in the eyes of its beholder.

There was no worry, there was no miasma, there was no Fate, there was no clone; all there remained was a Sovereign and his esteemed subject. The subject responded to the will of its Sovereign, and thus shall it be able to open a book of endless knowledge and experience scrounged up by him. From metallic blood to salted sweat, all of them had gone into the procedural machinations of creating the printed work of said book of endless knowledge. Such is the legacy of a Jujutsu Sorcerer.

If there was something that Talulah knew about Fushiguro Megumi, it would be that he could be... slightly insane. In regards to where she had made such an assessment of the black haired man, it would be when they had first fought against each other in a horrific misunderstanding construed by her rampant mind. It didn't help that previous experiences hadn't been too favorable leading up to her unsightly behavior before.

But that was in the past, always something that the Draco would tell herself to keep things more stable internally. There was only one path to look toward, and that was forward, something that she would always attempt to strive to believe in. It was not only for herself, but for the entire Reunion Movement and what it would develop into the future. Right now, this black haired man...

...Why did he look so concentrated? Something had him absorbed to the point where Talulah believed him to not even be in the world at the current moment in time. His gaze was fixated deep into the black forest, his dull and lifeless eyes diffusing a ray of shadows across the snow plastered lands.

There was a faint trace of corruptive energy coming off of him, the accursed one that the ashen haired woman was so familiar with. Thankfully, they were relatively far away from the settlement, meaning that no intense wave of malignant aura would be afflicting them. If it did, there would most likely be far worse misunderstandings, as if his Divine General hadn't caused enough fear.

Blinking, Talulah registered a golden barrier surrounding the black haired man, the flowing aura from his body having expanded to cover the entire volume of it. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see what the black haired man was doing. Surprisingly, whenever particles of snow would fall into it, she could feel invisible slashes immediately intercept them and obliterate them into nothingness.

Looking downwards, the Draco had also seen the circumference of the sphere being outlined from the missing patches of snow beneath Megumi's feet. He didn't move an inch, neither a twitch from his fingers or his blinking eyes was detectable—because he hadn't done any of those actions in the past minute or so. For Talulah, she did not wish to interrupt him in his deep-seated concentration.

Strangely enough, those black tribal markings have once more appeared on his body. Now she didn't know much about engravings or Arts that used runes, but the dragon lady was doubly sure that they must be related to his cursed Arts in some way. They only appeared when the horrendous energy in his body had reached some kind of bottleneck.

The snow continued to fall, showcasing furthermore what an endless winter of the tundra was like. No matter if the calendar spoke its thesis of being spring, autumn, or summer; it didn't matter to the geographical location in which the Reunion Movement had been entrapped in. A cage which would eventually leave its residents to freeze to death, as they were all wholly unwelcomed to a place like this.

Yet they would never let them leave this cage either, digging a greater pit into this unwarranted hatred they head for the Infected. How much more would it take, Talulah had to wonder, until things had started to change? There wasn't much she could speak on the matter other than contemplating or working towards her project of migrating south.

Turning to Fushiguro Megumi, the Draco could see that the snow around him had completely melted in the spherical outline created by his aura. There was a certain warmth to it despite the malevolent energy, and Talulah could feel it despite the distance they were at. At that point, she was at a loss of words in regards to what to say to the black haired man. Everytime she opened her mouth, she could feel the cold and dry air enter it, making her close it.

Rinse and repeat the process a few times and that was the dilemma she was in, unable to break out of the cycle while stuck in the cold winter. But that... 'barrier' Megumi had placed around himself felt and looked like the warm grasp of a golden summer. There was not a lick of frigidness in there, or anything that looked to bother him in general. Talulah couldn't help but see him in a different light than herself.

While she was stuck in this endlessness, he was outside of the cruel system entirely. He was not Infected, he could leave Ursus at any point in time possible because he only had to worry about one companion—meaning his rate of detection has also been greatly reduced as a result. Not only that, but the use of means at his disposal were so vast that Talulah had further cemented the fact that he could be a genius or prodigy when it came to Arts.

"So, why did you come here?" Megumi suddenly spoke out toward Talulah, tilting his head in her direction so he could get a clearer view. His dagger-like eyes sharpened over years of hardship tore through the stagnant wind.

"O-oh!" Talulah slightly flinched, her hand clenching the handle of her blade more tightly before she relaxed. It had been a long time since she had witnessed his absurd presence with those black markings, but the Draco was glad that she didn't immediately lash out. "My apologies for intruding," she coughed, "I was curious about your daily routine, and Laurentina pointed to where you usually go."

"Oh, alright," Megumi shrugged, "if you want to watch, then go ahead." There wasn't much of a registration toward the ashen haired woman, as he came back to focusing on utilizing Noble Eightfold Path. There was also the fact that all of his Shikigamis were stuck in his shadow, making it so that he bore their weight for physical training, and honed his Cursed Energy refinement in the process.

He couldn't really do much in this state, other than standing in an almost meditative stance and bearing the burden of his own body screaming at him. At most, he could keep this state of being for four hours constant—without any extraneous use of abilities aside from his Supreme Art. Other than that, it was a far better improvement than what he was capable of when he first started this routine, which was two hours.

"I have to ask, are you averse to socialization?" Talulah was still stuck in a small stupor, so she hadn't even registered her brazen way of asking him the question when walking to a cut log. It was only when the dragon lady had realized what she just said that she halted mid-way through.

"I am, that should have been obvious," Megumi dully replied while placing his hands in his pockets. The Dharmachakra still laid above his head, further adding on the strain of Cursed Energy overuse. It was a good thing it drained the least out of everything, barring Cursed Energy reinforcement.

"Mhm," Talulah tugged at the collar of her uniform before settling down, glad that the black haired man hadn't been offended by her words.

The woman found herself propped up in a seating position by the smooth texture of the cut tree stump. There was no discomfort in it, for the shaving done on it had a masterful precision that Talulah could tell from a glance. Pausing for a moment in her conversation with Megumi, the dragon lady let her fingers run across its smooth texture to get a better feel of it.

"...I have to ask, are you a Lung?" Megumi suddenly asked Talulah, feeling her gaze turn toward him.

"A... Lung? No, not quite." Talulah shook her head, "I don't blame you for mistaking the two of them. I am a Draco."

"Oh," Megumi hummed, assuming it to be the more western counterpart to the east's dragons.

"Why do you ask?" Talulah asked.

"I was just curious, I knew a... Lung before I went here." Megumi kept his hands in his pockets, watching the world of nature move around him without any input from the man. Aside from the snow being intercepted by an application of his technique, of course.

"A Lung... huh?" Talulah could feel something forming in her chest, but decided to keep it down. "Could you tell me about them? If that's perfectly fine with you, of course."

"There's not much to say, she was hot-headed and abrasive at times." Megumi swayed his head, rummaging his brain to recount Ch'en. Indeed, the scowling and judgemental look on her face was the first thing he remembered, "but... I think she had a good sense of justice. Didn't look down on the Infected either, so there's that."

Talulah listened to his monotone description of her, wondering if he was being honest about her with the last part of his description. There wasn't much she knew of Fushiguro Megumi's peeves, or even character. In fact, the black haired man might be one of the most contradictory people she knew, "hot-headed and sometimes abrasive, that reminds me of somebody."

"Hm?" Megumi sounded more curious.

"I remember somebody about the same as your description, she was a Lung too," Talulah lightly chuckled out after giving her response. "I'm not sure where she is right now... considering the circumstances that have overtaken the both of us."

"Circumstances," Megumi repeated that word, scrunching up his face in a distasteful look. If he still had his taste, he was sure his own expression was one when he was still able to taste, and took a bite of a nasty meal. "I understand." There was no need to push the matter further, because it was something private to Talulah.

The word made him barely smirk.

"...I've been meaning to ask," Talulah said, seeing Megumi turn back to observe the forest, "why do you still stay here?" The dragon lady was genuinely confused on why the black haired man had decided to stay in the Reunion Movement as it was now. She was confident that anybody—when faced with five Emperor's Blades would find Ursus not an accommodating territory in the slightest.

But for some reason, he still decided to associate with them. She knew he was capable enough to take down two of them, but by the time she arrived to see that the other three had retreated, Megumi did not look to be in a state where he could further fight. Aside from that pale Divine General of his, standing tall in the center of a burnt battlefield.

"Is my presence a bother?"

"No, no, not at all," Talulah hastily spoke while waving her arms in front of her. "I'm just curious about your reason, you aren't seen as a bother by FrostNova or Mr. Patriot." In fact, she was sure that Patriot gave his Dharmachakra a few glances while passing by. The Draco had never seen somebody leave such an impression on the Wendigo, but then again—she had to admit he had also left an impression on herself too.

"No particular reason." Megumi's gaze continued to stay transfixed on the forest, his pupils not budging a single millimeter from where they previously were. "Not many things I do have a reason. Maybe it's like laying down in a river and letting it take you elsewhere, a path you don't know."

"I don't believe that's a good thing." Talulah interlocked her fingers while continuing to gaze at his back, gazing deep into the blackness of his haori, "letting a path take you to places which you are unaware of... it's dangerous, isn't it?"

"Would you say so?"

"I can see it being so," Talulah spoke more seriously, "who else had to face the unpleasantness of facing a squadron of Ursus' Royal Guards?" For once, she gave him a chiding look from the back.

"Is it a suggestion, then?" Megumi lifted him up his hand to take a look at it, remembering the weight of Ame-no-Sakahoko on it. "What else is there for me to do?"

"Huh? Er, well..." Talulah tightened her interlocking fingers, before slightly fiddling with them, "you should have a clear plan on what you want to do, right? Carve a path for what future you want to see. It could be something like what I have for Reunion—plans to move to the south." She gave her suggestion.

"Plans." Megumi dryly brought his lips together before opening them, "I wasn't one to ever plan for the future, honestly." The Sorcerer admitted to such a clause. After all, he wasn't sure of what occupation he would undertake if Jujutsu Society wasn't even a thing, and all he had driving him into such a society was Tsumiki becoming cursed. Even then, he still hadn't a clue of what he wanted to be if he ever stepped out of that world... or finally cured her.

But he knew how that ended up.

"I don't believe that is a good mentality to have," Talulah held a hint of worry in her tone. "There's a lot in store with life, whether good or bad, I think you'd be best prepared for them if you have a plan; or even a general outline."

Megumi let out a sound of affirmation, "I'll take that into consideration," he really was. What else had he been doing the fast few days anyways? Making a goal for himself, to find a way back home.

"...That's the first time..."

"Hm?" Megumi took a glance at her with a confused expression. "First time what...?"

"The first time you ever took my suggestions," Talulah told in a slightly shocked way, eyes having gotten a little wider. "Every other time, you would just walk off or not say anything."

"It's because—"

"You're taking it into consideration, correct?" Talulah smiled slightly, making sure that it held a 'slight' bit of venom.

Megumi coughed into his fist, not knowing how to reply to the agitated dragon. It almost felt like the woman had decided to save up her pent up frustrations for this one moment, completely moving away from the previous 'air' he was feeling from her.

He spent the rest of his time in silence, under the scrutinizing gaze of Talulah.

FrostNova was about to place her hand on Fushiguro Megumi's shoulder, but immediately realized what her actions would cause. Freezing in place for a moment, the Cautus girl had to remind herself that her body temperature would cause damage for other people—something she had forgotten ever since that... that strange dragon had healed her.

Which was why she wanted to inquire to the black haired man about it, "Mr. Fushiguro?" FrostNova's rabbit ears swayed in the air, watching as the black haired man casually turned around to regard her. His black haori was resting along the path of his unmoving arms, moving all the way to cover it entirely, including his hands. It was one with the wind, producing a majestic air around him that she found hard describing.

It didn't help with that golden wheel above his head, speaking a message of nothing but pure divinity in the air around it. Whenever she had seen it turn, the Cautus was sure that something in the world had shifted itself, as if it were...

"Yes?" Megumi's head moved a bit to the side, his spiky hair shifting along with it. The deadpan was prominent on his face, as if asking the other party to get on with it, "I have places to be at the moment. If you have something to say, make it quick." The silken white waves of her hair was a curtain which hid her left eyes, cascading down in a beautiful way.

"Oh..." FrostNova was slightly taken aback, but quickly recovered from the unruly jab sent out from the black haired man's words. She hadn't seen him this impatient before, and the unimaginative look on his face was making it harder for her to concentrate on what she wanted to say. "About your... summons that day, the dragon—was it yours?"

"...The dragon? It was." Megumi stared at the small black streak across her nose. It reminded him of the scars that Itadori Yuji had, making his expression soften a slight bit. "I summoned it, it can apply healing Arts." The black haired man shifted his attention elsewhere. Right now, he felt a tad bit guilty with the tone he had given her.

It was akin to raising one's voice at an innocent rabbit, making it spike in fear with its fur sticking up. In this case, Megumi was sure that his moody and irritated voice had only caused her to misinterpret his actions for being enraged at her. At this moment, the black haired man placed a hand over his mouth and held a strained expression, relenting to his guilty conscience.

"I understand, I couldn't thank you properly since then," FrostNova nervously said, worried about the expression the black haired man was giving off. "So, thank you..."

"Anybody would have done the same," Megumi gave the same standardized response he would give to anybody back on Earth and on Terra. The last time he remembered using such a response was when he had found Laurentina... about a month ago. "There's no need to thank me, in fact, I'm sure any logical person would say it was a foolish action from me, charging head first into an enemy."

"...I wouldn't say so." FrostNova blinked a few times at him, wondering why he had been downplaying himself, "you succeeded in taking down two of Ursus' Royal Guards, that's an achievement in itself."

"Mahoraga did it, not me." Megumi waved his hands, feeling the lightweight of the haori's sleeve trace along with its movements.

"Don't you know how to accept a thanks?" FrostNova pushed further, furrowing her brows and glaring her eyes at him.

"...What?" Megumi raised an eyebrow, moving a step back when the rabbit lady had made a small advance toward him.

"Not everything needs a reason to be righteous, just doing so is enough."

Megumi opened his mouth, but then stopped when staring deep into the other woman's eyes. He found himself lost in the sea of silver, seeing the determination that would freeze the world over within them. The intensity should have been something more fitting with Talulah or Ch'en, not something he would have ever expected from this Cautus.

However, he was proven wrong the moment he registered her words. There is no reason to be righteous... is that so? Just as Itadori Yuji had said, there should be no reason for living, just partaking in the act was... was enough...

...He was at a loss.

To save lives without any reason, to save those who deserved it didn't require any moral obligation or purpose. For Fushiguro Megumi, it was like he had found something else, a path opening itself right before him.

...Would he take it...?

"You're stuck up, just as much as Talulah," FrostNova heaved a sigh, her breath condensating in the lonely wind and being blown off elsewhere. Perhaps it would find itself in the lustrous fields of rolling prairies, far away from this desolate and frozen over tundra. "But the difference is that you can't accept your own merits, while she has trouble accepting some of her own follies."

"...Did you learn those big words from Mr. Patriot?" Megumi glanced away, for some reason feeling defeated.

"Of course, who else would I have?" FrostNova crossed her arms, "give or take a few of his Guerillas are also well-educated, they even read stories to the children."

"That's good to hear," Megumi listlessly replied, still stuck in the words she had previously spoken before. It latched to him, clinging to his arms and keeping him restrained in what was the void of his thoughts, where nothing should have existed—where it should have been a stoic emptiness.

But...

"I just wanted to give you my thanks," FrostNova sighed and closed her eyes, before turning away. "You're busy with other things, like dad. So there's no need for me to bother you any more—"

—Just as FrostNova was about to step away, a hand grasped at her arm, making the Cautus woman flinch and shoot them open. A pin had been pulled, making her jolt and feel a wave of panic wash over her, as the course, hard, and calloused hands of Fushiguro Megumi had wrapped around her limb.

The hand was warm, unnaturally warm. It was like the clutches of the warm summer sun, or the spring avenue which would wisp around the bodies of anybody, a concept that FrostNova had never known and was never accustomed to. For once in her life, she felt a...

"W-what are you doing?" FrostNova attempted to break her arm off from his grip, worried that his hands would be damaged as a result of touching her bare skin. "You're not wearing gloves! A frostbite would be the..."

"...Please, tell me," Megumi looked into her eyes once more, his breath thinning as the oxygen levels left his lungs. He was tense, far more tense than he could have ever imagined himself, reminding himself of the words of Yuji. "Is there... is there a reason for living? Do we have any purpose here?" The Sorcerer wasn't sure how he looked, but the cold sweat forming at the back of his neck should have been obvious enough.

"Living?" FrostNova paused her struggle for a moment, meeting his dark orbs with her own. There was a reflective light of her own that went into his, being lost in the endless abyss that it was. Feeling her jaw tense at the prospect of freezing his hand over, she made her response quick, "just... living is enough, isn't it?"

The Cautus woman had the same opinion about it as she did righteous actions. There should be no reason for them, just partaking in those actions was all that was needed. Ulterior motives would only render somebody to be pretentious in what they did, and a need to stroke their own egos wasn't what qualified a righteous person in her own eyes.

Megumi looked downwards, feeling the gale move across the two in its waltz across the world. The worldly force was present in all walks of the world, billowing in its wake to find a path of new undiscovered land, and it had found itself in the pregnant silence of the two. The Sorcerer had no words to say to the woman, not at the moment of loss that he felt.

Yet... why, did it also feel like he had regained something else, other than taste?

Instead of the sun looming over the sky and shining its warm light—the one he ever so distantly desired from afar—it was like the comforting coolness of a winter zephyr across his body.

"...Itadori..." Megumi whispered.

FrostNova stared at him with a complicated expression. Her eyes would dart toward where his hand had grasped her arm, waiting for the inevitable freezing of his limb that would render it damaged and useless. However, that moment had never come, and the Cautus was completely confused as to why.

Instead, the warmth continued to permeate through her body, the warm blood ladened beneath his skin seeping out its presence and making itself known. Once again, FrostNova had felt an experience she had never before, making the woman have a relapse in her mind; almost content with letting the moment be as it was.

Megumi stared at his hand, looking at the small bits of frost that had formed on it. Despite what should have been an occurrence that would render it damaged to a point where his skin should be flaking off like snow, it was completely fine. Cursed Energy reinforcement was the subject of application that he had unconsciously done, an instinct so engraved deep into his body that his subconscious had already taken it in as his kin.

The scenery from before was vivid before his eyes, like staring at a frame which held a delicate picture from memories now long lost. Such a description wasn't accurate for how he felt, because the passing event of... whatever happened before... was only something that had happened so recently.

Walking amongst the snow, he didn't know how to feel. The longing for home became more apparent, the warmth that he felt within the presence of people he knew and adored—was far too painful of a desire. It retched within his chest, making him keel over and grasp at his mouth, feeling the bile starting to formulate and rise up.

He clenched his fist and pressed it against where his heart should be, making sure that the feeling would wash away with a forceful push. Indeed, it had, the pressure coursing through making the black haired man wince and straighten his posture once more. A dash of Positive Energy going through his bloodied veins and all should be at a better condition than before.

"What is wrong with me?" Megumi shakily asked himself, staring at the frosted hand. The flakes of ice that had clung onto the moisture of his skin like a parasite had started to melt off, falling uselessly onto the ground as water, before being steamed upwards into the sky. His eyes watched the occurrence without much fervor, having already had enough conversations for the day.

A few steps were heard not too far away from him, so the Sorcerer turned his head to look at the looming shadow which was presiding across the land. It was who he expected it to be, the towering man who held a rustic armor built upon a miracle of technology, one that could only be made in Terra. Or rather, that was what Fushiguro Megumi believed, for this world's alloys and materials were far more durable than Earth's.

Gazing upon the emblazoned Wendigo mask of Patriot, along with the mancing sheen that casted from his mighty vermillion orbs and pierced across the scenery in a surveying gait, Megumi took in a small breath. He could already tell that his eyes had turned to his Dharmachakra for a brief moment, the howling wind falling to a somber credence.

Only a single utterance was given.

"Find your place."

There was something methodical with the way the sun drove its way up from the purview of where its orbital path travelled. The bleeding orange lights that mingled amongst the blues up above and blended seamlessly in a way that showed nature's beauty was splendid within Laurentina's eyes. A natural occurrence wasn't so easily beaten down from their pedestal with digital replicas.

Having finished observing the scenery from the small transparent opening of the tent, Laurentina decided to sit up and exit it. They were near a Leithanian settlement, having already made it to the edges of the country. All they needed to do was travel more inward, to reach Sturmland where the Kurfurst of Sturmland was waiting, along with potentially the woman who had caused her Princess trouble.

She stared at her sleeping bag, the one that usually fit two people. Usually—during their journey to Ursus—the Aegir would drag him into it, as they only had one tent. After a few days of doing so with a flustered black haired sea urchin, he had seemingly gotten used to it. Last night though? He hadn't even entered the tent.

Putting on an analytical expression, Laurentina reached for her hat, before flicking it upwards lightly. The object flew into the air and spun a few times, before skillfully landing on top of her head in a perfect manner. Although her hair was slightly messy, the white haired woman could always fix it easily with a comb.

Lowering her head and exiting from the tent, the first goal for her was to find where Fushiguro Megumi was. Just when she had laid her plan out, she looked upwards and was presented with a bizarre sight. Letting her body pause at the absurdity of it, the Aegir was finally able to fully register what was happening.

First of all, there were multiple animals. They ranged from a werewolf, to a bird, to a serpent, to an ox, to a rabbit, to a deer, to a... of course, the list went on. What she didn't see however, was that looming Divine General which would strike the chords of danger within anybody's internal systems.

She knew that Fushiguro Megumi had many summons, but there were many amongst the pile that she hadneverseen before, despite having been with the black haired man for the duration of two months.

'What could have warranted this?'Laurentina crossed her arms and continued to observe the pile. Right now, a strange blue and black energy was emitting from the summons, with her Princess being stuck in the middle of the pile. He looked tired, with bags under his eyes while his head rested on the curled up form of the werewolf.

By his side was a small tiger, one that looked quite adorable in her eyes, but that wasn't what mattered at the moment. What did matter was why the summoner looked so tired, as if he had been drained all night—

—Maybe that wasn't a good analogy to use. Shaking her head with slight mirth, the Aegir delightfully moved in a small waltz toward him, covering the distance extremely fast.

"What have you done this time?" Laurentina clasped her hands behind her back, moving across the animals which sent a few gazes her way before turning back to Megumi. "Don't tell me an enemy passed by and you were forced to call uponallof them? My, I haven't ever seen this tiger."

Megumi didn't let out a sound, only giving the woman a slow turn of the head as she picked up Tiger Funeral.

"...So, are you going to provide any sort of context?" Laurentina brought Tiger Funeral close to herself, patting it on the head, "and what is with this strange blue energy coming across them? How strange," she continued to state the obvious.

"Just a bit of... training," Megumi provided the best context he could. Having wanted to increase the levels of Cursed Energy in each of his Shikigami, he had decided it could also work as a training regimen for himself. What the process entailed was summoning one of them and providing the most Cursed Energy he could, before they were practically overflowing.

Once he had gotten used to it and was able to instinctively provide them with the extra energy, the Sorcerer had decided to move on to his next Shikigami. Rinse and repeat the process a few more times until he ended up with Tiger Funeral, and Fushiguro Megumi was already feeling like he was going to die.

It was so bad to the point where his Cursed Energy reserves weren't regaining faster than they were losing, and that it had been put to a complete stagnation. If he had called out Tiger Funeral in a greater form, Megumi was sure he would be completely sapped clean, like a water tank not only losing all of its water—but also the remaining droplets being evaporated.

"While training yourself by pushing your body to its brink is an effective method..." Laurentina glanced at the other animals gathered around, taking note of their resting positions "...I don't believe it is a good idea to strain yourselfthisfar." How long has he been training now?

If she remembered correctly, he started his training session during the late afternoon, while she went off to the settlement to explore for a bit. The place was as anybody would have expected, just a few cultural distinctions from other places she had visited before. After that, she had just gone back to the car while the night was encroaching, and Fushiguro Megumi was resting by his summons.

'All night, what a surprise.'Laurentina remembered just how long he would train back in Ursus, to the point where she hadn't even been talking with him much—only with the other Reunion members.'Then he must have quite the stamina.'

"That's funny, coming from you," Megumi replied bitterly. "I wish you could have said the same thing when beating me black and blue."

"Oh please~," Laurentina sighed, sitting by him and pinching his cheek with an exasperated look, "onlyIget to beat you into submission, nobody else. Not even yourself, is that a good enough reason?"

"No."

"I was merely jesting once more," Laurentina replied dramatically, reeling her head back and placing her back wrist on her forehead. "You need to work in regards to... how should I say this? Providing a more welcoming response to others."

"No."

"I understand, is this the small game we'll be playing?" She continued stroking the small tiger's fur in her arms, "if so, I would consider myself to beveryconvincing in extracting information from others."

Megumi felt something cold wash over the back of his neck. Feeling uneasy, his exhausted eyes turned to assess Laurentina, who was tracing her cold fingers against it. Her face was closer to his, making the black haired man raise an eyebrow and slightly pull back, "what do you mean by... that?"

"Curious about me? Well, I could provide a few details... even if they would be a scant few," Laurentina placed the tiger down, watching as the small creature moved closer to Megumi and rested its head on his thigh. "Oh, before I continue, I'm curious about your summons."

"Go ahead," Megumi motioned for her to continue, pushing through the burn out his body was undergoing.

"These critters look to be intelligent, despite being a summon coming from your Arts," Laurentina shifted her gaze to all the other ones, "they seem to possess a certain 'personality' to them too. Do these 'cursed' Arts of yours produce life?"

"I have no clue," Megumi honestly replied. "I don't know where their consciousness or intelligence starts or ends, but I do know they are sentient to... a degree." His gaze Laurentina's, leaving him to gauge his Shikigamis once more. "I'm more inclined to believe they do possess a 'life' separate from mine."

"Are we delving into the territory of the philosophical and theoretical science of your Arts now?" Laurentina spoke thoughtfully, "in fact, have you ever stopped and imagined the implications of these... 'Cursed' Arts would bring? Aside from being a beacon of viscera."

Megumi stayed silent, streaking his hand across the head of Tiger Funeral, feeling the soft bristles of their vantablack fur running across his own, "I don't believe I ever have." Now that he thought about it... "I don't even know their genders, despite knowing their names."

"Interesting." Laurentina took note of his summon's reaction, the way that the small tiger melted into his hand like butter on a hot pan.

On Megumi's side, his mind traced back to yesterday night, how he was in distant pondering of how his Shikigamis actually worked. The Aegir before him already had about the same thoughts as him in regards to them, about how they possessed a modicum of intelligence from their behavioral patterns.

There was also the fact that they grew strongerexponentiallydepending on the amount of Cursed Energy he put into them. Not only was it in regards to increasing their strength, durability, speed, and overall special abilities; but also theircontrolover said Cursed Energy. He had only gotten one Shikigami so far to use Falling Blossom Emotion, and that was Divine Dog: Totality.

It was only for a few seconds.

In regards to his other Shikigami, the only one that had shown a feat on par with that was Nue. The bird could form its own Domain, just as he knew of the Shikigamis who could also draw a Domain with their trajectory. Most of them throughout Jujutsu history who could form Domains were usually flight based creatures, so he already had a clue of which his Shikigamis could do such a thing.

"...I should probably find out their genders," Megumi suddenly announced his next course of action.

"...Eh?" Laurentina turned away from his summons, and looked at him. "Really? Hah~, well, do as you please then," she chuckled while flicking his Dharmachakra, finding a tinge of humor in his usually tone-deaf voice.

"I'll keep that in mind," Megumi leaned back further on Divine Dog: Totality, "we should continue our route to Sturmland."

The blinding Spire was a sight to see, decorated in ivory and marble with the most splendorous flair one could imagine. It glimmered undering the shimmering celestial sphere placed above it, taking in the incandescence as its own and refracting it a thousand-fold more elegantly throughout its bustling surroundings.

There were buildings which were of more insignificant size laid strewn around it, while their chocolate brown wood of fine dining still showed their other aspectual importance. Suffice to say, the land was rich in a different type of flavor than other places, a sight to behold for any tourist who stray their way upon here.

When looking at the scene with a magnifying glass, many structures such as statues and gargoyles could be seen. It is said that they have been hand crafted by some of the most excellently skilled hands, and doused with a perfume of delicate Arts—providing a more artistic show in a different light. Indeed, the sights were something even common citizens of Sturmland would pause to contemplate upon.

It was lively. That much was a given, for the life poured from the passionately woven tapestry of fine art illuminated all in its wake. Rather than silken fabric however, they were of cold hard stone. The peerless showing was something only unique to the confines of Leithanien, just as how Lungmen possessed the incandescent neon lights of their unsleeping skyscrapers. However, just like any city, this one had also possessed its fair share of dredged down secrets.

That was the assumption of Fushiguro Megumi, gazing at the dazzling scene that seemed too good to be true. It reminded him of the theme where he stared upon the towering skyscrapers of Lungmen when entrapped by the shadows of the slums, watching life from a distance continuously passing him by. Compared to the size of every building, he was just an ant crawling across the deserted dirt, filled with other ants.

The truck they brought with them to this city was parked outside the Nomadic City's walls, but held at a lot where they could keep it. Most of the journey toward the 'Spire' where Werner von Hochberg was held would be on foot, throughout the crowded streets of this city. From what they knew, this single letter of invitation would allow them to enter at any time.

It was so important in fact, the both of them didn't even need to provide an ID toward the border guards of Leithanien. All that needed to be shown was a flash of the letter, and the uniformed men paused immediately with their steps. A few more seconds of recognizing the wax seal and confirmation of the Arts, Megumi and Laurentina were allowed to enter the city without a single hitch.

It was... more of a surprise than Megumi could have expected. Honestly, it was like when he went to a Jujutsu Sorcerer institution with Gojo Satoru, everybody who resided in them would immediately bow or make way for the Strongest Sorcerer. Such was the benefit of having connections, one woven by many threads of spider silk. Compared to back then, though, the black haired man was sure the letter of invitation could hardly be on par with his sensei's radiating influence.

"These statues..."

Megumi turned toward Laurentina, the Aegir was walking through the streets with him, but had halted in her steps to gaze upon a statue placed at the side of the road. Although he didn't hold much interest in the casted stones of human expression, the Sorcerer already knew that the Abyssal Hunter before him was. Whether she found inspiration or liked them was something for her to decide.

The black haired man moved toward her location, moving diligently across the crowd with skillful movements. Despite going against what was essentially a wave of human bodies, not a single graze of his skin or clothes could be felt. What Megumi did feel, though, was the curious gazes upon the Dharmachakra. At this point in time, the black haired man had already gotten used to such stares, one that he relegated to a temporary affliction.

Most of the people here had deer antlers and goat horns, the two being the Elafia race and Caprinae race respectively. While he doubted an Aegir was common here, the amount of stares he and Laurentina received based solely on their race was quite low, and he preferred it would be that way. It was, of course, more focused on his golden Dharmachakra, but they were in a more 'well-off' district from what he could tell—so there was no worry for any people of 'that' kind to attempt to nab it.

Stopping beside Laurentina, Megumi turned upwards to see what all the fuss was about. Looking at the sculpture, the Sorcerer... immediately squinted his eyes, feeling something strange coming off of it. There was a lingering influence that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but that Sorcerer assumed it was because it had some Originium implemented into it. Maybe that was why Laurentina was so interested in it.

"Strange," Laurentina gave her description of it with crossed arms, "there's something off about them, do you feel the same way?"

"Probably because there's Originium in it," Megumi placed his hands in his pockets and replied. The stagnant face of the object he was gazing upon the two was filled with no life, and the stoic expression that was granted to it proving no emotions. There was a faint melody coming off of it, something that the both of them had recognized.

"Do you hear that?" Laurentina rhetorically asked, placing a hand to cover her rising lips, "this isn't merely 'technology,' but I would say... those notes are Arts that are being produced from this simple sculpture." The eyes belonging only to a surgeon continued scalpel through the rock hard sculpture.

A harsh wind blew, gray clouds above passing through with a gloomy stride. Their shadow casted over the environment, the people around turning their attention away from what they were doing to mumble about the weather. It was a common occurrence within Sturmland, as storms passed by the place at least once a month.

Megumi felt the air, the dampness clinging onto his skin, like phantoms of Primavera. Compared to the salted and decrepit city however, this one wasmuchmore bearable, and felt like the grace of nature rather than the disgrace of horror. Waving his hand as it had gotten used to the feeling, the Ten Shadows user continued to analyze the statue.

It was positioned in a seated position, its right hand reaching out below to the empty void in front of it, as if reaching for an imperceptible goal or object which it could never take hold of. Its back was bent forward, the straining weight could be seen even from the lifelessness that emanated from it.

"...Isn't that funny?" Megumi dryly expressed, turning upwards to see where exactly the hand was reaching out for. His Dharmachakra floating above laid just where the statue's hand was, as if it was grasping for the divine golden object. "What's your interpretation for this sculpture?"

"It looks like it's reaching for you," Laurentina jokingly replied, "the soft tune that comes from it speaks of despair, like the object of their desire is forever unreachable—I believe that elegant wheel of yours is what they're attempting to find."

"I'm not a part of the sculpture," Megumi let his hands leave his pocket and crossed his arms, shifting his eyes away from her and back onto the inanimate structure.

"You complete it," Laurentina stated, as if it was a matter of fact. "There is nothing that it is reaching for in front, I believe it is up to the viewer's interpretation for what they are reaching for... if you weren't here, I'd believe it would be reaching at an unattainable void, which is what the air in front of is."

"Because air can be considered immaterial?"

"Certainly not, by definition, air is considered a material as it takes up space and mass." Laurentina waved him off, "but based on an artistic interpretation, it should be. Which is why I believe what the statue is reaching for is simply a 'void,' nothingness in the grand scheme of things."

"I see..."

The Dharmachakra was considered to be the representation of the Law of Dharma itself, the cosmic force which governed the entire universe—along with existence—in its teachings. Most followed it prominently in Hinduism and Buddhism, to reach a state of enlightenment in the plane of Nirvana, to be free of all worldly desires.

Looking above us head once more to the expression of the statue, Megumi could see something... different. Mixing in what he knew of the despairful melody that was leaking out of, most likely due to an applied Arts, there was a note of despair that he felt. He would have never interpreted such a thing by looking at its expression, but the music gaveeverythingaway.

"It's reaching for something it can never have, you're right," Megumi suddenly said. The face that he would have seen as stoicness was now replaced with 'desire' and 'despair,' reaching for something it could never attain, just as Laurentina had stated.'Desire needs to be abandoned for enlightenment, but this statue 'desires' the enlightenment with every fiber of its being, so that means... its own desire for 'peace of mind' is its undoing.'

...But then again, the Sorcerer wouldn't put too much of a factual statement of how it should be interpreted. He was only a drop-out college student by proxy, and he hadn't taken any philosophical courses during his stay in Jujutsu Tech. The only thing he had was in high school, a mandatory art class which only focused on the 'basics' of art.

"I'm glad we can agree on one thing," Laurentina smiled, turning upwards to the black haired man's floating accessory. "You know—I've never understood the underlying message of that wheel of yours. Does its shape have some importance, or is it shaped like that, just to be shaped like that?"

Megumi kept silent, racking his brain for all that he knew of the wheel. Formulating his response in a way that could be understood best, he opened his mouth, "It's a Dharmachakra. Each turn of the wheel represents 'perfect harmony,' and has a connection to a religious culture."

"Perfect harmony... religious culture..." Laurentina's voice mixed in with the passing crowd, the latter moving quicker with the impending rain about to fall. "I can see how..." she drew out "...well, seeing what comes out of it, it only makes sense." The Aegir shrugged with a small huff, "I believe this sculpture is mediocre, or perhaps even above average."

"...It's a sculpture placed on the streets, so that must meansomething," Megumi replied with a casual posture.

"Just because it's not placed in some marbled museum, my dear Princess," Laurentina placed a finger on his lips, as if telling him to 'shut up,' "does not mean it is lacking in value to them." She remembered some of the signs of art when travelling across her home city, all of them had their own flair and message—far different from those in museums.

"...Whatever you say," Megumi pushed her hand away, before turning back to the street. Strangely enough, there were some people who immediately lowered their vintage cameras... vintage cameras by his world's standards, and looked away, going back to their daily lives. This caused the black haired man to raise his eyebrows.

"I believe they decided to take a few pictures because of how fitting you are with the sculpture," Laurentina giggled, placing a hand over her mouth, "my, you should take a look form a third person's perspective, but alas—I doubt any of them would be willing to share a picture with such an ice-cold Princess such as you."

"...What?" Megumi felt his face falling into a further deadpan. "What do you mean, 'fitting' with the statue? My wheel?"

"Notonlyyour wheel, but your face certainly matched the sculpture with how you two looked. I could even mistake the both of you as siblings." Laurentina motioned toward the sculpture with her chin, "take a look for yourself, take note of how your expression compares to it."

"No thank you," Megumi said, while giving the sculpture with a brief side-eye. Having a faint glimpse of the stoic expression, the Sorcerer could seesomewhathow it could be of relation to his own. "We should get going, it looks like it's about to rain."

His gaze turned back to the Spire at the center of the city. That was their point of destination, not the sculpture which they had spent far too much time on, "I don't know if Werner von Hochberg is waiting for us, and I actually doubt he is. In fact, he might not even be aware of who we are, considering the letter of invitation was given to me by a second party."

"Well, might as well see for ourselves," Laurentina turned away from the sculpture, having already had her fill with a country's other culture. "I must say, these sights aremuchsuperior to the ones we've witnessed so far." Compared to Primavera's rotten streets filled with salt and Ursus' snowy tundras stained with death—this city was a godsend. "Still, incomparable to Aegir."

Her body had been itching to fulfill its purpose and duty. Having been stuck in the tundras was an agonizing experience, only alleviated by the fact that she could converse with others after so long of being stuck in a lab and desecrated city. Facing those Facerending Liches also provided a stretching of her stagnant muscles.

Megumi took the initiative and started his journey back to the Spire, moving away from the sculpture.

Laurentina followed along.

The towering structure which was seen and gazed upon from far away was now right in front of them. With gates covering its perimeter to impede intruders from stepping into lands which weren't theirs. It was a statement, one built upon by fortressed walls in the form of dingy defenses. However, such an illusion wasn't something that could find its way into Fushiguro Megumi's brain.

There were barriers and layers of Arts which were provided toward them. If he attempted to fire off an attack from his bladed weapons of war or his body forged from Jujutsu Sorcery, it would all be repelled in some way or another. Overall, a decent amount of effort would be needed to breach these defenses, unless he utilized a certain god-forged artifact from times long since lost.

Megumi moved across the perimeters with Laurentina in tow, the latter moving with a diligent waltz beside him. He watched as her dress fluttered in the near-autumn wind, the small prairies of flowers fluttering from the fences and coalescing around her. Thinning his lips, the Sorcerer wondered if this scenery was greeting her entrance, while his black haori which spoke of nothing but death was being averted by them.

Letting out a sigh, the black haired man eventually found themselves at the front gate, with two guards stationed on both sides. He felt their gazes turn to him and Laurentina, before Megumi reached into his black haori, accessing his shadows and pulling out the letter of invitation. Walking upwards, the black haired man pulled it out, to the slight confusion of the guards.

However, it would turn into recognition and surprise, seeing who exactly the letter belonged to. Despite being guards who were meant to protect the gates, their standardized Arts awareness immediately knew that it was no counterfeit, before they respectfully regarded the beholder of such an object.

Laurentina peered from behind Megumi, watching the guards move themselves to the locks of the gates and disengaging them. Eventually, a small screech was heard as the gates were fully opened, presenting the sight of the gardens toward them. There was a path in between them, leading to the Spire.

Megumi wordlessly walked forward with Laurentina, not knowing what to say in this situation. He was already used to this kind of thing when following Gojo Satoru as he remembered before... but being the one to command this 'respect' was unnatural. He hoped it wasn't like this everytime, because the Sorcerer wasn't sure he was ever going to return to Leithanien after hearing what Arturia wanted.

Arturia let the melodies of her cello play in the isolated room, one devoid of any life to witness it. Of course, she had been advised by Kurfurst of Sturmland Werner von Hochberg not to play it in front of other people, and the Sankta took it seriously—for once. This provided a brief distraction, for the wait of a certainsomebodyhad been itching at her for quite a while.

There were messengers prepared to visit where she was, to inform her if a certain black haired man had entered the confines of Sturmland or not. While wandering the other parts of Leithanien, no message was ever sent to her, indicating that the person of interest hadn't ever stepped foot in Sturmland the past two months.

Having decided to route back to Sturmland and back to the Spire, the Sankta hadn't expected much to happen today. But oh... how wrong she was, seeing how a strange sensation had overtaken her body this morning. It wasn't just the change in weather, nor was it her body reacting to it, but Arturia could feel a faint connection to...

"...He's here now, how convenient," Arturia continued playing her instrument, her eyes cracking open and leaving her gaze across the empty room. "Just as Cora was visiting too, I wonder if they would love to hear my music once more."

Uncaring of the passing time, the Sankta continued to play her instrument, letting the honed technique ripple through the air with her passionate movements. She could feelhissteps across the outskirts of the Spire belonging to Hochberg, the Kurfurst who had temporarily left the Spire to attend to other matters. Recently, the man had been curious about the person of her interest, who she had been speaking ofa lot.

"This strange feeling," Arturia abruptly paused her music, her eyes slightly widening when she caught wind of Fushiguro Megumi's full presence. There was no doubt about it, the intense divinity reaching to her senses, along withthatoverpowering emotion, "oh...haha~,of course. How could I have ever forgotten such a beholden feeling?" It was there, right before her eyes. During the time of casted shadows mingling above the skies of Terra, a single light which shone so bright it could blind all which gazed upon it.

"Eight-Handled Sword Divergent Sila Divine General Mahoraga... A mighty title."

Its skin was the purest white she had ever seen, its eyeless face which had been replaced by angelic wings spanning a great distance, and the crudely attached blade which could tear apart armies themselves. Every part of its body was an immaculately dedicated art piece that couldn't have been forged by the hands of man, and the emotion she had attempted to read from it before...

...She didn't know.

It had emotions, that much was for sure. However, the sheer might of its divinity and clause had torn away her efforts in attempting to probe it. Naturally, the only conclusion she could draw was that it wasn't 'human' in nature, it was a 'deity' created by some higher force that surpassed a 'deity' itself. How it ended up in Fushiguro Megumi's hands...? Oh, she desired to know with great clarity.

That summon wasperfect,in the way that it embodied the perfection of harmony itself. What almost all humans lacked was the expression of themselves, how they would always hide between mountainous layers to keep their truest selves hidden. The primal beast that once stood before her? It hid nothing, and its unending desire for slaughter only provided evidence for such an idea.

Before it was defeated by that black haired man, anyways. The scene had continued to replay itself in her head, when Fushiguro Megumi had brought out his soul itself and imposed it in a barrier which invaded the world. Now, Arturia wasn't sure on the specifics, but she would have to assume that...

"The Divine General... has been tamed?" The Sankta felt a brief flash of inspiration and excitement pass through her chest. Although she wasn't sure of it, the feeling that permeated from Megumi was what signified such. "Of course, what else could have happened when the beast was slain?"

Like the stories of a valiant knight tearing down the dragon and saving the day, that was what had happened in Lungmen—if a bit... of a more broad description she had to admit. However, it was a summon that originated from the mysterious caster which was Fushiguro Megumi, and Arturia was famished to find out more.

"I must see it," Arturia said to herself, standing up and packing up her instruments with a slightly rigid movement—from all the excitement that she was feeling. "Could my prediction have been correct? It has been two months after all..." the aura of divinity continued to pierce into her senses, making her intrinsic understanding for emotions continue to go haywire, just as the Divine General had done so before "...There is no doubt about it."

The Sankta closed her eyes with a soft smile, letting her body flow upon the crashing waves of divinity once more. It felt like she was being carried away by them, off to some distant void where all sense would be lost. Opening her eyes, a new sense of profoundness lingered across her body.

"This change, like the leaves turning from an emerald to an amber, marking the descent into autumn." Arturia lifted her case, standing up once more and turning to the door. A greater sense of conviction was prominent, and she was going to act upon it with greater fervor than before. "He has truly grown."

With a light step, she made it out of her room.

The steps leading down the Spire were grand and magnificent in scale. They were painted with the greatest of colors taken from the most blessed of flowers across prairie plains untouched by the world of Catastrophes.

Arturia continued to descend them with graceful steps, the weight of her cello packed into her reinforced case not impeding her movements in the slightest. Step by step, a faint melody was produced by her steps, combining into a tune which could be picked out by even the less musically inclined people.

Fushiguro Megumi's presence became greater every time she came closer to it, making her chest flutter at this grand reunion—with a person who had been altered over only the course of two months. What would he look like? What expression would he be wearing? Why had he decided to visit Sturmland so early? Oh, they were all curious yet distracting thoughts.

Cora Lowenstein should be inviting the guests in, at the front doorstep of where the two should have been. Arturia remembered how the woman would tell stories of how difficult it would be to greet guests when she had lost her eyesight, yet the brief spark and glimmer of humor and friendliness had never left her. The way she had also tuned instruments was skillful, only one with years of practical experience could have done.

Her steps stopped their pirouette once they reached the lowest floor, where the esteemed guest should have been.

Opening the door with her free hand, Arturia stepped out of the confines of the Spire's staircases. What shall she do first after their greeting? Play for him? Introduce him to Leithanien's culture? Perhaps even...

...Her steps halted when she finally passed through, feeling the full brunt of the incandescent aura. Taking in a small breath, Arturia exhaled and opened her eyes, being granted the sight of the black haired man. His expression was the same, his spiky hair possessing the same gravity-defying features it had done before.

The black haori stacked on top of his white martial arts gi, and the tight black turtleneck spandex underneath all of them defined his muscles well—especially his neck. However, all those features weren't what had caught her attention, as there was no change within them the last time she had witnessed it.

What caught her sight was... the wheel, the golden and illuminating wheel above his head. It was like a crown for a king... no, a Sovereign, dressed above his head to send a clear message across his body. An esteemed ornament which only spoke of grace and power, once belonging to the Divine General, was now on top of his head.

She felt it, his emotions, they were a spiral of incomprehensibility, crashing against each other in a contradictory mass which threatened to tear apart his body. Strangely enough, he held on. Rather than his own body imploding from the inside out, the black haired man stood as a bastion which wouldn't be torn about by it.

Just as she was about to approach him, something else had caught her sight. It was obvious that Cora Lowenstein would be greeting him into the confines of the building, however, there was somebody else beside him.

A white haired woman, possessing a finely crafted attire which spoke a thousand different messages. It was beautiful, such as her lustrous white hair flowing down with voluminous grace. There was a small recognition when who she assumed to be Aegir turned her crimson eyes toward her, a dampening silence following right after.

Arturia could tell many things about her from a first impression, and the Sankta was sure the other woman felt the same way. The way she had carried herself spoke of both a gracious lady and a well-forged weapon made to fight against the greatest horror the world had to offer—a self-made sculpture which could tear apart the seas and ravage its monsters. Yet the way she stared at her with a wary and unfriendly gaze...

Laurentina tilted her head, remembering this woman. Looking at that small, yet smug expression on the little angel, the Abyssal Hunter couldn't help but find this woman to be... unpleasant. Especially with what she remembered from Fushiguro Megumi, how that Sankta had caused him many troubles down the line, nearly at the expense of his own life and security.

The lights of the room dimmed, the small conversation having started with Fushiguro Megumi and Cora Lowenstein slowly dying down to a halt. There was something which permeated the air, making all people residing in the room aware of it, one that was as tense as the cables holding up a tensile bridge.

One thing for sure though...

...Laurentina could tell...

...Arturia could tell...

...She did not like this woman at all.

A/N: Here's a little side story extra, slightly ahead in the story, but the current sequence of events currently doesn't fit it.

It will be touched upon and mentioned later on though, this is just a snippet because I have final exams starting monday, meaning I will have to put this story on hiatus to study.

The tune swirled together to form a soft melody, rising into the air where it could freely roam, unfettered by any worldly pressures which kept it down. It is said that gravity holds together many parts of existence, as a fundamental force of the universe which tethered many parts of existence together.

There were even some Jujutsu Sorcerers who have dabbled in the field of science and physics, claiming that 'fate' itself, the one controlled by Cursed Energy, was connected in some way to gravity. Indeed, Cursed Energywasa fundamental part of the universe, but it was unattainable to any ordinary people.

Earth could exist without it. Cursed Energy contributed to nothing but negative emotions and fear, creating the sworn enemies of mankind in large swarms of mass. They destroyed everything, hated everything, and have sworn to destroy all of which was beautiful by the will of their own miserable existence. Such was the way of Cursed Spirits.

The tune pirouetting from the violin Fushiguro Megumi was playing attempted to emulate such a thing, but due to the lack of experience and skill of tuning an instrument to play by his whims, the Sorcerer hadn't found much success. Admittedly, Gojo Satoruhadtaught him a few lessons in violin while he was still in his youth of highschool, but it was still limited.

Add on to the further stack that he hadn't played the instrument in three years, then it became apparent why his skills were lacking. Megumi could feel a slight tinge of frustration, akin to not being able to use an application of Jujutsu Sorcery, like how he had failed to reinforce his body that one time... the time where he had first dipped his toes into the world that was Jujutsu Sorcery.

"Decent, at best," Laurentina's voice cut in, resting on a fancy chair to the left of Fushiguro Megumi. Her legs were crossed together, while her right elbow laid on the armrest of the chair to prop up her chin. The Aegir's posture was immaculate, the embodiment of a renaissance painting only depicted by the most brilliant of artisans.

Megumi stopped playing the violin to listen to her criticisms and compliments, but he was sure the latter wouldn't be much. The sounds which emitted from it had already faded, the pirouette having been abruptly interrupted.

"You have some level of practice with the violin, that much can be seen, but it lacks much to be desired." Laurentina flicked her foot a few times in the air while recounting what she had seen from his performance, "your melodies are attempting to convey a message, but it falls flat the moment you attempt to add more to it. Playing in a free-style way with merely your own emotions isn't a skill you should even think of attempting—with where your experience lies at the moment."

"...I see," Megumi replied without much of a passionate flair. He didn't even want to play the violin, but had felt some sort of obligation to do so when Arturia had asked him to do so. Speaking of Arturia, she sat on the chair to his right, her eyes closed in a concentrated yet relaxed manner, even after his performance had long since been cut off.

It was then the Sankta had finally spoken up "...isn't that too harsh of an assessment on our young apprentice here, Laurentina?" Arturia sang out the Abyssal Hunter's name at the end, slowly opening her eyes with a relaxed expression. "For somebody who looks as if they had never picked up an instrument, he plays quite well."

"Oh please," Laurentina scoffed toward her, "I just say it how it is, criticism is bound to be present when somebody judges another's art piece. It's up to them whether they wish to improve on it, or not—either way is fine with me."

"Then I ought to teachourlittle Princess how to play the violin, shouldn't I?" Arturia said, "here, let me aid you of where the path of your bow should travel," the Sankta slightly shifted in her seat, pulling closer to the black haired man.

"I..." Megumi was about to refute her, but stopped when the woman's hands touched his shoulder and onto the instrument. It reminded him of the first time when Gojo Satoru had fixed his posture, playfully berating him for his lack of skill in playing the refined instrument. The only thing that was lacking from Arturia to fully complete the scene was chastising his lack of skill.

Laurentina fit the mold quite well, though.

"Here, position your hands like this, and steady the violin..." Arturia's words whispered into Megumi's ears, fixing his posture with her delicate hands. The instrument, guided and orchestrated by her hands, had been fixed in a fancy way, reminiscent of how a skilled violin player would hold their precious tool.

"Ah, really?" Laurentina narrowed her eyes, before moving from her seat to get closer to Megumi, reaching her hands out to grasp the violin and his arm. "You've preached so much about playing with the soul's content, little angel, but here you're imposingyourstyle. Quite hypocritical, isn't it?" She pulled no punches, pushing down the violin in Megumi's grasp to set him to a default resting position.

"Inspiration is a good medicine for learning," Arturia persisted, keeping a gaze locked on Laurentina, unheedingly meeting the crimson silhouette of her gleaming eyes. "I'm not merely telling him what heshoulddo, but simply pointing to a path bestowed with multiple roads, and it's his choice to choose."

"Haha~? Is that so?" Laurentina faux laughed. "I'm sure he wouldmuchprefer to learn from me."

Megumi could feel himself being pushed against the two while having to balance the violin against his neck. Their movements have already paused, leaving themselves to lightly press on his body. Personally, it was a jarring feeling, the Sorcerer wondering if he should immediately break them apart.

"Truly?" Arturia tilted her head, almost speaking in a way that implicated achallenge.

"...I wouldn't prefer to learn at all," Megumi decided to cut in between the two, holding a dissatisfied look, "I don't like playing instruments, they were never my thing."

"Hm?"

"Huh?"

Arturia and Laurentina spoke in that successive order, turning towards the black haired man with a neutral expression.

...Megumi felt as if they were judging him.

"Isn't that quite boring? Goodness, I can't imagine you would settle for such a boring life, lacking the grace of any music," Laurentina let out an exaggerated sigh while shaking her head in disappointment.

"It's not a good idea to lie, Princess—"

Laurentina let out an indignant huff, hearing the Sankta usehernickname for him.

"—After all, I can easily tell of which intention you broadcast within yourself," Arturia gave the sharky lady a small smug smile before turning back to Megumi.

Megumi frowned, being double-teamed by questionably sane women wasn't something he would have wanted to check in his non-existent bucket list.

"Forgot about that," Arturia waved her hand, "I would have never expected you to have played an instrument, who taught you to do so?"

Laurentina hummed in agreement with the other woman for once, resting her arms on her chair's armrest and crossing her legs once more.

Megumi's mouth opened, keeping the same expression as he had done before. At that moment, a memory of a time long since lost invaded his brain, of a certain white haired man too eccentric for his gloomy world. Those gleaming blue eyes which encompassed the skies themselves continued to glitter themselves within his mentalscape, lighting it up with only its azure permeance.

"...It was..." Megumi drew out his voice, swallowing the rough saliva down his throat "...no, nevermind." For some reason the words'you homewreckers!'echoed loudly in his mind, leaving a large amount of discomfort to pervade his body. "It doesn't matter."

Laurentina and Arturia continued to stare curiously at him.

Megumi gauged all the weapons in his arsenal right now. He remembered them all like the back of his hand, Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, his Glock turned Handcannon, Homusubisu, Samyojana, Inverted Spear of Heaven which could change forms, and were all Special Grade, seeing how the only requirement for Cursed Tools to become Special Grade is to possess a Cursed Technique imbued into it.

Imbuing Cursed Techniques obviously took a lot of time and was a complex process, like programming code only professional seniors would know into a program. It took years upon years of experience and even dedication, just like that Black Rope that Gojo Satoru had told him about.

He was glad that the Dharmachakra was practically a cheat code. It was like a self-learning AI which could code for him, and it was the Sorcerer's own will if he wished to learn how it did such things to utilize for himself. After all, the adaptations he gained were temporary, as turning off the Shadow Extension for Mahoraga would void all of them.

After getting a feel of how his Dharmachakra had guided him throughout the processes of creating Cursed Tools, Megumi was sure he could create a Cursed Tool of his own given enough time. However, the problem with imbuing Cursed Techniques was that it took time, something that he couldn't afford to do.

So why not utilize his current experiences and current adaptations to make a well-forged weapon? That was the best way he could do things, because the Dharmachakra wasalwaysaccessible to him.

Megumi remembered the first ever Cursed Tool he had received with the assistance of Gojo Satoru and his ungodly influence in Jujutsu Society. They were basically allowed to waltz straight into Jujutsu Tech's armory and nab a weapon of their choosing, andnobodycould say a thing about it. After all, who would speak up against the Strongest Sorcerer and his student?
That was how he had received the Jet Black Blade, an average Cursed Tool imbued with a standardized amount of Cursed Energy for any standard Sorcerer to utilize. The only special thing about it was the obsidian colored sheen that made it stand out from other Cursed Tools. The young Sorcerer had decided to choose it that time, because it matched the shadows of his Cursed Technique.

Gojo Satoru had also said it was one of the better options out of the other Cursed Tools.

So it was his responsibility to imbue his Cursed Technique overtime into the weapon to improve it. Megumi recalled he didn't have his Cursed Technique Reversal at the type because Reverse Cursed Technique was not accessible to him—making the crucial component of Positive Energy being inaccessible. That meant he couldn't imbue his Shikigami's features into them, something that he had realized ages ago.

What he did instead, however, was imbue 'Ten Shadows' into it, the general 'medium' that it uses to summon his Shikigamis. It was as anybody, including himself, could have guessed: shadow properties. The Sorcerer lingered upon the thought a little longer, remembering the fate of the Cursed Tool that had befallen it.

It was when he was trapped in that desolate cave with nowhere to go, and having cut down those damned whack-a-mole wannabes to oblivion. They were nothing more than shredded ribbons, but that was when the accursed Special Grade monster had popped out to deal a near fatal blow to him.

He had blocked the wind breaking jab with the Jet Black Blade, and it had borne the burden of the blow. With the grotesque pressure emitted from that physical blow, the Cursed Tool still being rushedly enhanced with Cursed Energy had been shattered on the spot. It was like watching a paned glass with black tints collapsing before his eyes.

The Sorcerer still had the scraps after exorcising the Finger Bearer, and it took it back for repairs. By the time Shinjuku had rolled about, all that was left of it was sectioned pieces of the blade that had been sitting in his shadow and rotting. Megumi didn't see much of a use for the weapon, seeing how he had all the other Cursed Tools in his inventory at the moment.

But... something that he took into consideration was that all of his current armaments were 'specialized' in doing something. Take for example, Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, it was a gigantic Nodachi which had jet propulsions that tore across battlefields. Its enormous size also made it a weapon not meant for traditional usages. Daiitoku and his Handcannon were self-explanatory, along with Homusubisu. Samyojana was better relegated as utility, just like how its unenhanced version had been.

The Inverted Spear of Heaven was a broken off portion of a spear, meaning it was the size of a shortsword in total. Fushiguro Megumi enjoyed using shortsword-esque weapons in their size, but he had grown accustomed to using all other kinds of weaponry. However, it still didn't seem like a standardized tool in which he could utilize in many situations, as its special feature was to disable his opponent's abilities.

It didn't have any other Cursed Technique attached to it that could assist a warrior in pure physical means either. The second one was only accessible via Ame-no-Sakahoko, and the Sorcerer wasn't sure what it even was yet. Besides, the spear mode of the large dagger could only be used if he infused Reverse Cursed Technique to repair the soul of the inanimate object. Using it as a 'standard' weapon when Ame-no-Sakahoko was the strongestCursed Tool in his arsenal wasn't productive at all.

With how draining it also was, he would only use it when the situation demanded for it to be used, lest he wished to balance his fickle life on a thin tightrope. With that in mind, the black haired man had decided he was going to createone lastCursed Tool to fit his final needs.

Donning his black haori with a swift movement, the black haired man stretched his arms for a moment. The outview leading toward the essence of Sturmland itself was a nice view, especially with the morning sun flashing its radiant gaze upon him. Looking across the city to spot anything that interested him, the black haired man had decided on his next course of action.

That was to seek out a Leithanien blacksmith.