Satoru cackled with laughter as massive bone spikes erupted from the ground, aiming to impale him in a deadly web of jagged stone and bone. They shot out so fast they would have skewered any other Sorcerer, but to Satoru, they moved like they were swimming in glue. He danced between the spikes effortlessly, weaving through them with the grace of a predator toying with its prey.
Ah, if only he were still his old self, Satoru mused; he'd be relying on Infinity like a crutch right now.
But that was a thing of the past - his Cursed Augmentation had progressed to a point where these attacks felt sluggish, his perception warped by the overwhelming power of Six-Eyes and, even without it, his senses were enhanced to such a degree that it wouldn't have mattered.
Still, Satoru had to admit that Mado's technique was impressive. Those spikes were fast, fast enough to end most Sorcerers in an instant. Hell, they'd probably even catch Sukuna off-guard if he wasn't paying attention. Well, maybe the Sukuna from his time.
"I was getting bored!" Satoru called out, his voice carrying over the battlefield as he ducked under another spike that tore through the air.
"Hardly!" Mado shot back, his body now coated in Domain Amplification, the shimmering aura surrounding him as he shot forward with blinding speed. Satoru's grin widened as he launched himself into the air to meet Mado head-on, rising above the deadly field of bone spikes below.
They collided mid-air, fists crashing into each other like thunderclaps, each strike sending shockwaves rippling through the atmosphere. Mado's Cursed Energy bursts were timed with surgical precision, releasing just before his fists hit Satoru's Infinity, allowing him to breach the barrier and land solid blows. It was genius - a near-perfect adaptation to Satoru's defensive technique.
Incredible.
Mado was fast, his bulk somehow not hindering his movement as he unleashed a barrage of attacks. His control over Domain Amplification was precise, each punch surging with explosive power. Nearly a hundred fists were exchanged in a matter of seconds, their arms a blur of motion as they clashed in a symphony of violence.
Satoru batted away Mado's right fist at the last second and countered with a devastating Red-enhanced punch to the Astartes' chest. The impact cracked Mado's breastplate, releasing a surge of cursed energy that twisted into the air like black smoke. The force sent Mado hurtling toward the ground, but to his credit, he managed to land on his feet, skidding to a stop in the dirt.
Hovering above, Satoru looked down at him, the ever-present grin on his face widening. "That can't be all, right? I haven't even warmed up yet."
Mado wiped the blood from his lip, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Let me show you!" His voice was filled with excitement as he leapt upward, hands coming together to form a familiar symbol. Satoru's eyes flicked to the shape of his fingers - not a Domain Expansion this time, but something else.
A maximum technique.
For a fleeting moment, Satoru considered letting Mado finish his technique. He was curious, after all. What kind of power did Mado possess when he pushed himself to his absolute limit? It might be fun to find out.
But then again, Satoru had wasted enough time here already. He was supposed to be unleashing hell upon the Space Wolves and the Orks - for some reason, he reminded himself. Honestly, the details of why didn't matter much to him. Caoimhe probably has some grand plan, but Satoru didn't particularly care about that, either. His reasons for being here were simple: he wanted to have fun, and eventually, he wanted to become a god.
That was a long-term goal, though. No need to rush it.
Oh, and save the galaxy from a waking star-eating god or something. That was important too. Right, that was kind of the whole reason he agreed to this whole thing.
For now, though, this battle was taking too long, and there were far more interesting things to do. He could handle a dozen Astartes at once if he wanted - and, now that he thought about it, that might be more fun.
With a snap of his fingers, Satoru summoned a gravity well of Blue behind Mado, the air distorting as the invisible force began to pull at the Astartes. It wasn't enough to create a swirling mass, but it was dense enough to yank Mado backward. The Space Marine's finger symbols faltered as he was violently pulled down, slamming into the ground with a heavy thud. The impact left a crater beneath him, the outline of his body imprinted into the dirt.
Before Mado could recover, Satoru unleashed a relentless wave of Red, the repulsive energy pressing Mado into the ground with enough force to pin him in place. The Astartes struggled, his armor creaking under the pressure, but he couldn't move.
Satoru floated above him, watching with a mixture of amusement and disappointment.
"I might have to end this a little sooner than I'd like, buddy." His tone was casual, but there was an edge of finality to his words. His fingers twitched as he began to bring Red and Blue together at his fingertips, the energies swirling into a single point of black nothingness.
Purple.
A void of destruction formed between his hands, the gravitational forces of Blue colliding with the repulsive energies of Red, creating something far more dangerous - a force of pure annihilation. The air around him vibrated with power, the ground beneath them cracking and crumbling as the imaginary mass intensified.
"Don't worry," Satoru said, smiling down at Mado. "This won't hurt at all."
Mado's eyes flared, recognizing the danger in that moment, his body straining against the force pinning him down. The Astartes wasn't one to give up easily, and Satoru could see the gears turning in his mind, desperately searching for a way to counter the attack. Or the escape.
But it was too late. Satoru had already decided. "Be thankful I'm not using the same technique I used to kill that other Devourer. It was not a pretty sight."
If all else failed, after all, he'd always have the True Negative Cursed Energy to call on.
With a flick of his wrist, he unleashed Purple, the void of destruction ripping forward toward Mado with a soundless, devastating force. And then, in the next moment, his enemy ceased to exist. And Purple bore a hole through the ground that extended for several kilometers.
Satoru turned from the smoldering crater where Mado had been obliterated, brushing off imaginary dust from his jacket with a smirk. As his eyes scanned the battlefield, a new group caught his attention. Five more Devourers stood waiting for him in the distance, their heavily armored forms unmoving like statues carved from dark stone. They had clearly been watching the whole time, assessing, calculating.
He grinned.
"Oh, great. More of you guys." The excitement was already bubbling in his chest. This was about to get very fun. The best part? Unlike the Space Wolves, who were little more than gnats to him, these Devourers actually posed a challenge. Well, sorta. It was rare for Satoru to come across opponents that made him exert effort. And since the Sword of Khaine had been itching to be unleashed, he figured these guys were more than deserving of that little extra spice.
One of the Devourers stepped forward, clearly the strongest of the bunch. This one had a presence that dwarfed the others, a walking mountain of power. He didn't carry a gun like the others but instead wielded a staff brimming with cursed energy. Around his armor were numerous talismans and wards, glowing faintly with enchantments. Satoru sized him up with a flicker of interest. Definitely stronger than Mado, he thought, noting the weight of the man's aura. Maybe three times stronger, in fact. And, Satoru admitted with a silent chuckle, this guy didn't look quite as freaky. If Mado was a monstrosity, this guy could at least pass for a regular, albeit ugly, person.
"You're the one who wrecked the Wolves," the leader said, his voice surprisingly smooth, though laced with a hint of admiration. "Congratulations. It's not every day a Curse User causes that much damage before we can intervene. And you killed Mado. Impressive. He was strong, but you'll go down in history for this. Stand proud."
Satoru couldn't resist a wide grin.
"Thanks. Do I get a medal or a certificate for this achievement?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, but he was genuinely amused.
The leader paused, turning to the others with a raised brow.
"Did…did we get him a medal or a certificate?" He seemed serious. "I feel like we did."
From the back, the weakest-looking of the group - shorter, lankier, probably the lackey of the crew—reached into his belt pouch and pulled out… an actual medal. A shiny, school-grade medal with the words "Best in Killing" etched in gold. It glittered faintly as he held it up.
"Does this count?" the weak one asked, tilting his head.
Satoru blinked. Then, he shrugged. "Cool. I'll take it."
The medal was tossed toward him, and he caught it in mid-air, examining it with mild interest. Definitely not a Cursed Object, he noted, then casually looped the ribbon around his neck. "How do I look?" He struck a mockingly heroic pose, puffing out his chest.
The leader of the group nodded, deadpan. "It suits you."
"Great!" Satoru's grin widened. His fingers twitched, a ripple of Cursed Energy sparking through his veins. "So, do we start killing each other now?"
The leader raised a hand, halting his comrades who were clearly ready to pounce.
"Not just yet," he said with a sigh, as if he too were impatient for the fight. "No matter how much I want to. Yamamoto Genryusai, Lord-Commander of all Devourers, has extended you an invitation to join us. Your Jujutsu prowess is undeniable, and your strength could be of great use to the Devourers."
Satoru raised an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and amusement dancing on his face. An offer? He had expected the conversation to shift straight into violence, but this was a new twist.
"Join you, huh?" He tapped the medal on his chest thoughtfully, though his answer had already formed in his head. "And sacrifice this handsome face for power?"
The leader didn't flinch, his tone flat.
"Your face will still be yours, just enhanced. But yes. All your crimes would be forgotten. The Space Dogs can't touch you. You'd be one of us."
Satoru let the silence stretch, a small chuckle bubbling up from his throat. They probably already knew what he was gonna say.
"And miss out on all the fun of wrecking you guys? Nah." He cocked his head to the side, flashing that dangerous grin.
"Besides, sacrificing this face for power?" He pointed at his own cheek. "No thanks."
The leader sighed, shaking his head like a disappointed teacher. The others mirrored him, all letting out synchronized sighs of defeat.
"I used to be handsome," the leader muttered under his breath before snapping his fingers. "Alright then, we can start fighting now. Lord-Commander Genryusai figured you'd say no, but we had to make the offer anyway."
"Nice!" Satoru replied, his voice gleeful. Before the word had fully left his mouth, his right hand was already raised. He didn't hesitate, unleashing a gargantuan burst of Red, the environment around him warping as a cataclysmic repulsive force tore through the air. Crimson energy exploded outward, shattering the ground beneath them, sending rock and debris flying as if the planet itself was rejecting their presence.
A crimson storm of pure gravity surged outwards, pushing away everything at such speeds and with such force that even the hardiest materials were turn apart and torn down to their basest forms, entire boulders and buildings reduced to dust in mere seconds.
AN: Chapter 55 is out on (Pat)reon!