The following day, Gojo stood over the boy he'd been trying to mold into a sorcerer, his fists clenching until his knuckles turned white.
Subaru was a shell. His eyes weren't just vacant; they were a void where a soul used to be.
The only thing that could be made out was that constant miasma co-existing with the Cursed Energy.
"What the hell happened to him…? He was fine a day ago. Annoying, loud, but stable. Now? It's like someone reached inside and turned off the lights."
He grimaced, his Six Eyes scanning for a spiritual wound he couldn't find.
Did I push him too hard? No, Subaru wasn't that fragile. Words don't break a man like this. This is the look of someone who's watched the world end.
Crusch Karsten stepped forward, a slightly saddened look on her face.
"Then what are the odds it's a curse?"
Ferris shook his head, his usual playful ears drooping with genuine frustration.
"Nyil. I've combed every inch of his gate. Physically, he's perfect. But the boy inside? He's just… gone. If it's a curse, it's one that leaves no trace on the body."
"I'm truly sorry," Crusch said, her gaze drifting toward Rem. "If even Felix cannot find the thread to pull, then we are at an impasse."
Rem bowed, her smile thin and fragile as glass.
"Thank you. Both of you. For trying."
Gojo exhaled a sharp breath, tucking his hands into his pockets.
"I'm going with you. What kind of teacher ditches his student when he's been reduced to a vegetable? I'm seeing this through."
————————————
The fire crackled low between them, a small pocket of orange warmth against the suffocating black of the grassy plains.
They had stopped only because the ground dragons were flagging, and even Gojo's boundless energy couldn't compensate for the physical toll the journey was taking on Rem.
Subaru sat propped against a mossy log, his head lolling slightly to the side. He was awake, but in the way a doll is awake—glassy eyes reflecting the dancing flames without registering the heat.
Rem moved with a mechanical grace, dampening a cloth to wipe the dust from Subaru's forehead. Her hands were trembling, just a fraction.
"You should eat, Rem. Or sleep. Or both."
Gojo said, leaning back against a tree with his hands behind his head. His blindfold was off, his gaze fixed on the canopy above.
"I've got the perimeter. Nothing gets within a mile of us without me knowing."
"Rem is fine, Satoru-sama," she replied, her voice soft but brittle. "Subaru-kun needs me. If he wakes and finds himself alone in the dark, he'll be frightened."
Gojo lowered his gaze to her. The Six Eyes saw the jagged state of her mana—she was running on fumes and sheer devotion.
"He's not 'asleep,' Rem, don't be delusional~ You know that. And I know you've been sensing it too. That... smell."
Rem paused, the cloth hovering over Subaru's cheek. Her expression darkened, a flicker of the demon beneath the maid's mask.
"The Witch's scent. It has grown... it's always been overwhelming but this is just… too much."
"It's not just thick. It's different."
Gojo muttered, sitting up and resting his elbows on his knees.
"Yesterday, it was like a stain. Tonight? It's pulsing. Every time I look at him, the 'color' and 'amount' of his energy shifts."
Rem turned her head, her blue eyes searching Gojo's face.
"Satoru-sama... you… you see things others cannot. Please... tell me honestly. Is Subaru-kun still in there?"
Gojo looked at Subaru. He saw the way the boy's cursed energy was churning—dark, purple, and agonizingly dense, far beyond what any human should be able to produce. It was the energy of someone who had seen things worse than hell.
"It's a bit hard to describe but with how intense all that energy is… I'd say that either he's having a really crappy dream or saw something horrifying."
With a shrug, he stood up, the light of the fire catching the sharp angles of his face.
He stepped over and placed a hand on Subaru's head. He didn't use any technique; it was just a human gesture, rare for the man who was usually untouchable.
"Heheh, he called me 'perfect' yesterday~ isn't that something?"
Gojo said with a dry, humorless chuckle.
"Told me I wouldn't understand. Maybe he was right. I don't know what it's like to be that helpless after all."
"He isn't helpless!"
Rem snapped, her voice suddenly fierce. She stood up, facing the strongest sorcerer with her fists clenched.
"He is kind. He is reckless. He is the person who reached into the darkness and pulled Rem out when I was drowning in my own hatred. He is a hero, even if he is the only one who doesn't know it."
Gojo stared at her for a long moment, then smiled—a real one, small and appreciative.
"Hero, huh? Well, even heroes need a nap every now and then~."
He looked toward the dark treeline, his eyes narrowing as a sudden chill swept through the camp.
"Get some rest, Rem."
Gojo said, his tone shifting back to the authoritative 'Strongest.'
The air is getting sour.
Rem looked at Subaru, then at Gojo, and finally nodded. She sat back down, pulling Subaru's head onto her lap, her hand resting protectively over his heart.
"Rem's hero will be fine…"
She whispered into the night.
"I agree." Gojo nodded.
———————————————
The carriage wheels groaned as they cut along the dirt path.
Gojo sat in the back, eyes fixed on Subaru—who hadn't moved, spoken, or even blinked properly in a day. The only times he responded at all were when Rem gently coaxed him to eat or sleep. Even then, it was like guiding a ghost.
This just doesn't make sense. No wounds. No curse. Not even a hint of foul energy. If I didn't know better, I'd say he's... grieving..?
But grieving what?
He flexed his fingers, his brow furrowing beneath his shades. He could teleport them back to the Roswaal Estate in a heartbeat, but his current output had limits; bringing two people at once and making a return trip was a massive drain on his processing speed, especially considering the distance.
Splitting them up was too risky with Subaru in a catatonic state and the air turning sour.
Rem sat across from him, her posture as stiff as a soldier's, her knuckles white as she gripped her skirt.
"...It's too quiet," she murmured, her blue eyes scanning the darkening treeline.
"Right, Satoru-sama?"
Gojo nodded, his six-sense humming.
"Yeah. The birds stopped singing about a mile back. I'm in agreement——"
Suddenly, Rem's body jolted. She pitched forward, clutching her chest as her breath hitched in a ragged, panicked gasp.
"——Sister?!"
"What—what's wr——?!"
The air screamed. A projectile, faster than any bolt, cleaved through the ground dragon's neck in a spray of dark blood. The beast's body crumpled, its momentum launching the carriage into a violent, wood-splintering somersault.
Gojo moved before the first shard of wood could even snap.
He propelled himself from his seat, a blur of motion. In a flash, he snatched Subaru by the collar and yanked him into the air, twisting mid-arc to shield the boy as the carriage pulverized itself against the road behind them.
His boots hit the dirt with a heavy thud. He skidded several meters, the dust settling around them.
Rem'll be fine. She's an Oni; that hit was just a wake-up call.
But as Gojo raised his head, his expression shifted from concern to a cold, razor-edged amusement.
Dozens—scores—of cloaked figures were rising from the tall grass, encircling them. Strange, jagged daggers glinted under the fading light.
Gojo tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"The hell…?"
He let out a dry chuckle.
"Did we take a wrong turn and end up at a goddamn comi-con? Or is the dress code just 'edgy bathrobes' today?"
His stance shifted, heels digging into the dirt as his energy began to hum.
One cultist charged, a dagger aimed straight for Gojo's throat. Satoru didn't flinch. His smirk widened as he raised a single hand, a shimmering blue aura rippling the air—
SWOOSH——!
The cultist's body snapped forward, yanked off his feet by a gravitational force that defied logic. Gojo leaned into the motion, meeting the man halfway.
His fist tore through the cultist's chest, obliterating ribs and spine in a single, sickening crack. Before the body could even register the hit, Gojo's foot connected with the mangled remains, launching the man like a missile into a nearby tree. The trunk shattered, bark and blood misting the air in equal measure.
"Gross!"
A hooded head rolled to a stop near his feet. Rem's flanged mace boomeranged through the crowd, severing limbs and skulls with the efficiency of a meat grinder.
"GET AWAY FROM SUBARU-KUN, YOU BASTARD WITCH CULTISTS!!"
She roared, her horn erupting from her forehead in a flash of white light.
The cultists responded in a frenzy, hurling daggers toward her as she stood atop the wreckage. The blades never reached her. They slowed, then stopped, hanging suspended in the air.
Gojo flicked his wrist.
The daggers reversed course with violent, localized gravity, hurtling back into the crowd like a storm of jagged iron.
SHLK—SHLK—THUD.
"They're weak," Gojo noted, his eyes scanning the treeline for a real threat. "Infinity's got me and the kid covered, but they're starting to swarm."
He turned to Rem. She was fighting like a demon, her rage blinding her to the shallow cuts opening on her arms. She was relentless, but she was messy.
If I go full output with Blue, I'll wipe this part forest—and them. Guess I've gotta do this the old-fashioned way.
Another cultist lunged from the shadows, a dagger inches from Gojo's face. It stopped, vibrating against the invisible wall of Infinity.
Gojo's fist rocketed upward, catching the man's jaw. The ground cracked beneath them from the sheer force of the impact. The cultist's head didn't just move; it burst like overripe fruit under a hydraulic press.
He pivoted, seeing a hidden assassin aiming for Rem's exposed back. Gojo appeared behind her in a flicker, one hand clamping on her shoulder while the other intercepted the dagger mere centimeters from her spine.
"Not today fellas~"
He exhaled from the minimal effort required, thrusting the dagger backward with terrifying force.
It didn't just fly; it rocketed through the assassin, impaling him and the tree behind him like a harpoon through wet paper.
They landed together, Rem growling, her pupils shrunken to pinpricks, blood dripping from her forehead.
"Rem—listen to me!"
Gojo's voice sliced through her battle-lust.
She blinked, her chest heaving as she finally registered his presence.
"Take Subaru and go. Now. Run for the manor,"
Gojo commanded, his voice dropping into a calm, absolute register.
"I'll handle the rest. I'm faster without the cargo, and I don't want to worry about collateral damage."
"B-But—Satoru-sama—"
"Five minutes."
His eyes flashed behind his shades.
"I'll catch up. Go."
Rem bit her lip, then nodded. She scooped Subaru into her arms—the boy still staring at nothing—and bolted into the forest, vanishing into the foliage in a streak of blue.
Gojo's eyes followed them for a second, then snapped toward the scores of robed figures attempting to give chase.
"Not a chance."
He moved. He didn't teleport—he was just that fast.
One cultist was mid-sprint when Gojo flipped overhead, his heel crashing down into the man's spine.
The body slammed into the dirt, and Gojo rode the carcass like a surfboard, the friction tearing a line through the earth in a spray of debris.
He reached his hand out, Blue pulsing around his fingertips.
Two cultists closing in on Rem's trail were yanked backward as if by an invisible hook.
Gojo flicked his wrist, and they were launched, their bodies careening into the trees with enough force to splinter the trunks like glass.
Gojo stood still for a moment, the silence returning to the blood-soaked clearing.
"Haah... Been a while since I've had to hold back this much."
He reached up, slid his sunglasses down, and pocketed them. His eyes—those impossibly vivid, cerulean Six Eyes—shone like dying stars in the sunlight.
They weren't calm anymore. They were dark, focused, and finally unchained.
A terrifying grin curled on his lips.
"Now that I'm on my own I can finally let loose~"
He let out a slow breath, raising his hand, middle and index fingers crossed.
"Cursed Technique Lapse: Maximum Output Blue."
——————————————
Rem sprinted, ignoring the explosion in the distance from where Satoru was, the wind cutting at her cheeks as the foliage blurred past her in streaks of green and shadow. Her horn shimmered faintly in the darkness—like a beacon in the gloom.
Subaru...
She clutched his limp body tighter, the rhythm of her heart matching each step in frantic unison.
Satoru-sama will be fine.
She didn't know him well—but she didn't need to. She had felt it. The overwhelming pressure of his power. His control.
He's strong. Unbreakable.
She glanced down at Subaru again. His face was blank, eyes dull, his body heavy in her arms—like a porcelain doll hollowed out.
But her gaze didn't falter.
He trusted me. With Subaru. With this mission. So I won't let either of them down.
Not Gojo. Not my hero. Not the boy who saved me when I was nothing.
"I'll be the one to save him this time...!"
Then, suddenly—a figure.
Ahead, framed by twisted tree limbs like a grotesque painting, he stood unnaturally still. His limbs were loose, his spine slack, his face half-shrouded by a cloak drenched in shadows. Then, the silence broke with a wet, rhythmic twitch.
"I... can see it..."
The voice was sharp and airy—high-pitched and cracked like glass under the heel of a boot.
"Oh yes, yesyesyesyesss...!"
He staggered forward, his body convulsing. Bones cracked audibly as if his limbs were foreign objects he was still learning to pilot. His back arched at an impossible angle, then snapped forward again like a marionette on broken strings.
"How BLESSED am I," he rasped, eyes bulging until the whites were traced with red, "to feel the Witch's LOVE... so... so devoutly...!"
Rem froze. Every hair on her body stood on end as the stench of miasma rolled off the man in suffocating waves. She stepped back, her arms tightening around Subaru's limp, unresponsive form.
The man's head cocked to the side—his neck bending just a little too far, the vertebrae popping like dry twigs. His fingers flickered in the air, plucking at invisible strings.
"It's him, isn't it...? Yes... yes..."
His gaze dropped to Subaru, and his pupils shivered with ecstasy.
"From him... such dense love... it oozes from every inch of his blessed soul! It's aromatic! It's intoxicating! It's... it's..."
He trembled violently, then threw his arms wide as if trying to embrace the very forest.
"HE IS TRULY.. TRULY TRULY TRULYYYYY... BLESSED!!!"
The forest seemed to recoil with him—leaves fluttering, birds scattering into the night as he screamed the word to the heavens.
Rem's eyes narrowed, her teeth gritting until she tasted copper. Blood filled her mouth; she had bitten her tongue again without realizing it. Her voice came out low, a razor-edged contrast to the madman's screeching.
"Who are you...?"
The horn on her head began to pulse with a pale, cold light. Her grip on her morningstar's handle tightened until the leather groaned.
"Answer me, you FILTHY WITCH CULTIST!!"
"Who...?"
He echoed, his voice lilting like a lullaby played through static.
"Who am I...?"
He tilted his head again, bones crunching.
"Oh, no.. nono-nO..NONONOO!! HOW SLOOOOOTHFUL OF ME NOT TO INTRODUCE MYSELF...!!!"
Tears welled in his eyes, and he suddenly gripped both sides of his face, his nails tearing into his own skin until blood flowed freely. Then, with a sudden, jarring grace, he bowed—his spine nearly snapping—one arm extended out, his head hanging inches from the ground.
"I am but a humble vessel of LOVE!! Of WORSHIP... Of GRATITUDE!!!"
"Sin Archbishop of the Witch's Cult.. Representing Sloth... Petelgeuse Romanee-Conti!"
He snapped back upright, a manic grin stretching his mouth to its limits.
"Now.. where.. where was I..?!- Love! Yes! I can feel it! That boy—he reeeeeeks of it! The Witch's blessing, so potent it makes me TREEEMBLE!!"
"You won't touch him…!"
Rem growled, her breath steaming in the cooling night air. She shifted Subaru to her side, securing him with one arm while her other hand swung the heavy flanged mace into a low, threatening orbit. Mana radiated from her like a storm about to break.
"I'll crush every last one of you until there's no trace of this cult left in the world."
Petelgeuse froze. Then, he began to cackle—a dry, hacking sound.
"HhheheheHEHEHE!! Such LOVE!! In YOU too!! The strength to protect... such noble LOVE! But it is foolish, girl! It is the height of arrogance! It is SLOTHFUL!"
He raised both arms skyward, his body vibrating with uncontainable glee.
"Because the love of the Witch... cannot be defied!!"
"I'll make you regret ever trying to get your disgusting hands on Rem's hero!!"
Rem roared, her horn flaring into full brilliance.
————————————————
Satoru Gojo stood amidst a sea of shredded corpses, his expression one of bored irritation. Blood soaked the earth, and trees were splintered into toothpicks, but he remained immaculate. Not a drop of gore touched his suit; not a single silver hair was out of place.
He looked around at the carnage.
"So... this is the Witch Cult's doing?"
His voice was low.
"What the hell do they want with us? This is so tedious…"
He turned on his heel, intent on finding Rem and his student.
Now's not the time to linger. Rem and Subaru... time to catch up.
And then he froze.
His Six Eyes flared to full output on instinct. His mind sharpened to a needle-point.
Someone was there.
Since when? How?
A man stood just a few yards away. Yet, in Satoru's sensory world, there was no presence. No spiritual pressure. No heat signature. It was as if there was simply an ERROR in the very fabric of space.
Nothing. I can't sense him at all. Even Reinhard when he's trying to hide has a slight presence; this guy feels like... nothing.
The man was immaculate. Skin pale as bleached ivory, hair snow-white, and eyes—glinting gold, like molten arrogance. He moved with eerie poise, one hand tucked behind his back as though he were walking into a high-end gala rather than a fresh massacre.
Gojo's breath stilled for a micro-second.
My eyes don't lie. This guy is dangerous.
Even the ground beneath the man's feet remained untouched. He walked over blood and cracks as if he didn't exist in the same dimension as the dirt.
Satoru's expression tightened. He didn't lower his guard.
"...Who are you?"
The man stopped and smiled. It wasn't the smile of a predator, nor was it friendly. It was a smile of supreme, infuriating composure.
He raised a hand, graceful and deliberate.
"Ah, excellent. I'm glad someone here still has the decency for manners. Truly. Far too many these days rush forward like beasts without the slightest trace of etiquette. But you—you asked. That alone, sir, puts you well above the drooling masses I've come to expect."
He gave a slight, practiced bow, his golden eyes locked onto Gojo's.
"And so, in accordance with the natural laws of mutual respect, it would be unjust of me not to answer you."
He placed a hand on his chest, the smile never wavering.
".. Sin Archbishop of the Witch's Cult.. Representing Greed...."
"——Regulus Corneas."