The Earth Deity's cruel grin widened, a predator savoring the final moments of wounded prey. It would crush the conscious one first, then turn its attention to the broken body in the rubble. The game was nearly over.
It did not sense the authority woven into the blood now soaking the two fallen talismans.
As Nanami and Haibara's lifeblood seeped into the charms Kamo Itsuki had given them, the inscribed paper ignited with an inner light. They floated from the sorcerers' bodies, spinning once in the rain-laden air before dissolving into shimmering particles of cursed energy.
From these particles, two forms condensed. They were humanoid, clad head-to-toe in seamless, matte-black garments, with only their eyes visible—glowing with a cold, intelligent crimson light. They were not living beings, but programmable extensions of Kamo's will and power, perfect mirrors of their designated wards.
The figure beside Nanami's rubble moved first. As it sprinted toward the colossal curse, its right hand bled a stream of crimson that solidified in mid-air, forging a replica of Nanami's own short sword, its blade wrapped in dark, blood-hardened cloth. It moved with ghostly silence and impossible speed, becoming a black streak against the grey downpour. It leaped, bringing the blade down in a vertical slash that carried the distilled essence of Nanami's own Ratio Technique—a strike aimed not at random, but at the fundamental structural weakness of its target.
The Earth Deity, surprised by the sudden, potent aggression, raised a massive palm to block. The impact didn't just connect; it detonated. A shockwave of force slammed the deity's feet into the ground, cratering the stone plaza and sending a cloud of pulverized debris into the air.
Simultaneously, the second black-clad figure, formed beside Haibara, moved its hands in a flawless, rapid series of seals. From the space before it, a Straw Doll Shikigami manifested—but this one was different. Its straw was dark as burnt hay, and its sewn eyes glowed with the same hellish crimson as its summoner. An aura of profound, paralyzing dread radiated from it, a fear so potent it was a tangible force. The Earth Deity, mid-roar, faltered. Its limbs stiffened for a critical half-second, its will momentarily smothered by the artificial terror.
It was the opening the swordsman needed. Closing the distance in a blur, it enacted the technique it was built to replicate. "Ratio Technique: Lethal Spot." Its blade traced a perfect, inevitable arc, aiming for the nexus point of the deity's neck.
The Earth Deity struggled, a tidal wave of cursed energy erupting from it to break the psychic bindings. But the crimson-eyed Straw Doll responded. It disgorged thousands of whip-like straw tendrils, which lashed around the deity's limbs and torso with the strength of steel cables, anchoring it in place.
The black blade fell.
There was no thunderous clash, only a clean, severing silence. The Earth Deity's mournful roar was cut short as its head, eyes wide with disbelief, toppled from its shoulders. Its massive body shuddered, then began to dissolve from the neck down, unraveling into streams of harmless, fading energy that were whipped away by the storm.
With their purpose fulfilled, the two black-clad figures dissipated as swiftly as they had appeared, their forms dissolving back into the spent, blood-stained talismans that fluttered gently to the wet stone.
Time passed. The rain finally began to ease, shifting from a fury to a weary drizzle.
A groan came from the rubble. Nanami Kento stirred, agony lancing through his shattered arm as consciousness returned. Nearby, Haibara Yu coughed, pushing himself up on trembling elbows. Disorientation and pain clouded their minds, followed by a dawning, incredulous shock. The crushing, malignant pressure was gone. The plaza was a wreck, but it was empty. Of the god-like curse that had broken them, there was no trace—only the memory of a swift, dark intervention, and two damp, blood-crusted talismans lying nearby, the only proof their near-death hadn't been a dream.
The two young sorcerers looked at the spent, blood-caked talismans on the ground, then at each other. The truth was impossible to ignore. "Senior Kamo..." Haibara murmured, the name a mix of awe and profound relief. Nanami gave a slow, pained nod of agreement. Supported by one another, they stumbled away from the desecrated temple.
Their report to Jujutsu High triggered an immediate response. Ieiri Shoko arrived with her characteristic, calm efficiency, her Reverse Cursed Technique knitting shattered bone and torn flesh with cool, green light. Within hours, the physical evidence of their brush with death had vanished.
As soon as they were cleared, they made their way to Kamo Itsuki's quarters. Bowing deeply, their gratitude was wordless but palpable. "Thank you," Nanami said, his voice tight with uncharacteristic emotion. "We owe you our lives."
Kamo waved a dismissive hand. "It was a precaution, nothing more." Then, a playful glint entered his eye. "More importantly, where are my souvenirs from Hokkaido?"
The question hung in the air. Haibara flushed, scratching his head. "Ah! We... we were in a bit of a hurry to get back. We completely forgot!"
"You've forgotten your senior's only request," Kamo chided, though the smile on his lips betrayed his lack of real annoyance.
"We'll make it up to you! We promise!" Haibara vowed earnestly.
Kamo laughed. "I'm teasing. The trinkets aren't important." His expression softened into something more serious. "But this is: the talismans worked because they were pre-loaded with a significant charge of my cursed energy, patterned after your own techniques. That energy is now spent. They are inert paper. You cannot rely on them again. Your safety depends on your own strength from this moment forward. Understood?"
"Understood, Senior," they replied in unison, the lesson settling heavily upon them.
"Good," Kamo said, his tone shifting to one of gentle authority. "Now, listen. Your bodies are healed, but your minds have been through a crucible. That kind of trauma doesn't vanish overnight. You need real rest. Quiet. Allow the shock to settle, or it will harden into a scar that hinders your growth."
He paused, meeting each of their eyes. "But remember this: you faced a Grade One manifestation and lived. You stared into the abyss. If you process that experience correctly, if you integrate that survival instead of fleeing from it, it will become a forge for your spirit. Your cursed energy reserves, your resolve—they can leap forward from here. I have expectations for you both. Do not waste the lesson this near-death has given you."
His final words were not just encouragement, but a challenge and a roadmap. Dismissed, Haibara and Nanami left with more than just gratitude. They carried the weight of a debt, the stark reality of their own vulnerability, and the daunting, glittering possibility of the power that lay on the other side of properly conquered fear.
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