here lives a swordsman who hungers for nothing less than perfection.
Not victory. Not fame. Not the hollow glory of countless battles.
No—his eyes are fixed on a summit far higher than any man-made dream.
The absolute pinnacle of swordsmanship.
A place beyond skill, beyond mastery—where the blade and the man holding it are no longer two separate things, but one.
He would not simply reach it.
He would shatter it.
And step into something greater still.
Perhaps… perhaps he is the man alive who has come the closest to that impossible height.
Closer, even, than the current Sword Saint himself—Reinhard van Astrea.
Cecilus Segmunt, the fastest man alive, trains without pause.
Every day. Every hour. Every moment not spent cutting is a moment wasted.
And yet… for all his speed, all his unmatched sharpness… even he feels it.
A ceiling.
A presence.
Something—someone—who stands in a place his blade cannot yet reach.
What kind of man lives there?
What kind of monster could already be standing at the top, waiting?
For Cecilus, the blade is an obsession—almost a sickness.
He breathes in its rhythm, sleeps in its shadow, bleeds in its name.
And yet he understands: no matter how far he runs, there is still a road ahead.
The path to the pinnacle is not a straight climb.
It twists. It vanishes. It forces him to through the unseen.
So then…
How does one improve when there is nothing left to improve?
How does one cut deeper when every cut is already perfect?
And more terrifying still—
Who has already reached that place?
The answer is not spoken often.
Not because it is unknown—
…but because speaking it aloud makes it real.
The Fool who reached the Heavenly Sword...
——————————————————
Reid Astrea grinned like a man who'd been waiting centuries for someone to entertain him. The spinning flash of steel tore through the air toward him—fast, lethal, inevitable.
"Hoh—?"
He didn't dodge.
Didn't even flinch, he merely grinned.
Instead, his leg rose in a sharp, effortless snap—not a block born from panic, but the kind of movement that came from knowing exactly where the weapon would be before it arrived. The sole of his foot slammed into the flat of the blade, stopping its momentum cold. A sharp clang rang out as he flicked his ankle, sending the weapon spiraling upward into the pale void above them.
Subaru was already moving.
Boots slamming against the invisible floor, teeth grit, blade raised—he closed the gap with every ounce of speed he could muster.
"C'mon! C'mon, you!" Reid barked, eyes lighting with manic joy. "All you gotta do—"
His grin widened until it was all teeth.
"—is make me move one step, y'hear?!"
An ebony blade shimmered into existence in Subaru's right hand, its edge drinking in the light around it. He didn't hesitate—the black sword whistled through the air in a diagonal slash meant to bite across the man's torso.
The strike was fast. Aggressive. Lethal.
Yet it never landed.
The movement that stopped it was so absurdly understated, Subaru's brain almost refused to register it. Two slender chopsticks—held in one hand, in the casual, traditional grip of a man eating dinner—pinched his blade in place with an impossible level of force.
That was it.
Subaru strained, twisting, wrenching, trying to break free. The chopsticks didn't even tremble. It was like his sword was caught in the grip of a mountain.
A frustrated snarl ripped from Subaru's throat, and he snapped his knee up in a vicious kick.
Reid's other leg shifted just slightly, the sole meeting Subaru's shin with a brutal, hammering impact that reverberated through bone. Pain flared, and before Subaru could recover, the chopsticks twisted, parrying his blade down and away, and Reid's elbow rocketed forward in the same motion.
The blow smashed into Subaru's face like a battering ram. Stars burst behind his eyes.
He stumbled back, weapon still trapped in those damn chopsticks.
"Don't look so surprised, you..." Reid said, his tone almost conversational—like they were discussing the weather. His grin never faltered.
"Ain't the typa guy to cheat ya see, so these are just any ol' ones you'd find hangin' off a tree or somethin'."
He gave the chopsticks a casual flick, finally releasing Subaru's blade, then spun them between his fingers like a street performer twirling a coin.
"Hm—?"
Reid's head tilted just slightly, his senses flaring like a predator catching the shift of wind before a strike.
Something dangerous was behind him.
He dropped instantly, a casual, yet incredibly swift ducking motion—and a foot sliced through the space where his skull had been, the kick ruffling strands of crimson hair as it passed overhead.
Gojo was there.
Still in motion, he twisted in midair, gravity bending under his control. That same foot came down in a vertical hammer-blow aimed square at Reid's head.
"Gyahahahaa—!!"
The Sword Saint didn't bother dodging.
His grin stayed fixed as the chopsticks in his hand snapped upward, catching the descending heel exactly at the moment of impact. The sound was sharp, final—like a door being slammed shut.
"—!? You gotta be kidding me—" Gojo hissed, feeling his own momentum halt against nothing but two sticks of wood.
Then Reid pushed.
The force rocketed through Gojo's body, sending him skidding and flipping across the white void until his feet dug into the ground again. He barely had time to stabilize before he was already moving forward, twisting his torso, a tight hook arcing toward Reid's jaw.
The blow never landed.
A breath... no, less than that—from contact, the air shimmered. Lines appeared on Gojo's arm—not one, but a dozen, razor-thin slashes that cut straight through cloth and skin. His punch sailed past harmlessly, his own momentum carrying him clear as he disengaged.
Blood beaded and ran, dripping down onto the floor below. Gojo's brow furrowed, his voice low.
That was with Infinity up… and he still cut me. How many people in this world can bypass it for god sake?
Reid didn't even seem interested in Gojo's surprise. He spun the chopsticks idly, turning away from the sorcerer entirely as Subaru rushed back into the fray.
Strike after strike came from the boy—desperate, rapid, wild. Reid parried them all without looking. Each deflection was almost lazy, a tilt of the wrist here, a flick there. His gaze wasn't even on Subaru.
"Tsk… I ain't interested in no shittin' small fry, y'prick."
TAP-
One chopstick tip kissed Subaru's ribs—and the air detonated. The shockwave blasted through his entire frame, hurling him back like a ragdoll. His body hit the ground hard, and blood splattered against the pristine floor as he coughed and retched.
Reid exhaled through his nose, casual as ever.
"Nooow, where was I… ah, right—"
His arm swung lazily upward, chopstick carving through nothing—and reality itself split. The very light in the void tore apart like fabric, a jagged fissure yawning open before sealing shut again.
"I can cut anythin' and everythin'." He smiled, tapping one stick against the other. "Be it light itself… or whatever odd barrier y'got 'round that pretty face o' yours."
One step forward, and the air shifted around him.
"Call me petty if you want… but I'm changin' the rules a bit."
His eyes flicked to Gojo.
"You gotta impress me to pass this."
Without even turning, he jerked his chin toward Subaru, still wiping blood from his mouth.
"And he's gotta make me take a step. You know, to dodge, to disengage. Doubt the 'lil shit has it in him what who cares?"
"Hmmm.. you got you 'n the small fry. That little unconscious missy down there don't count."
Subaru's voice came sharp from across the arena.
"How the hell is that fair?! Why do we have to do it individually?!"
Reid scoffed, like the question itself bored him.
"'Caaause I fuckin' said so, y'lil bastard. Stop bein' such a damn pussy 'n get up already. I coulda killed you then 'n there if I felt like it."
A shrug. A grin.
"But I'm feelin' generous!"
Gojo smirked and stepped forward, sinking into a low stance—the wounds along his arm sealing shut in an instant, skin knitting smooth as if they'd never been there.
Reid's brow arched.
"Mmmm… that little trick reminds me of—ehhh… who shittin' cares?!"
His knee bent.
The next instant, he was gone.
A blur of crimson streaked across the white void—then impact. Chopsticks swept for Gojo's neck with speed so clean it left a faint vacuum hiss in the air.
Gojo ducked low, body moving on instinct—but Reid was already twisting, his leg whipping around in a tight, brutal arc. The kick slammed into Gojo's guard, the shock traveling up his arms like a battering ram. His heels tore lines across the floor as he skidded back.
Reid wasn't much stronger.
He wasn't much faster.
He was just better.
Gojo clicked his tongue, scarlet energy coiling into his palm, glowing between the cracks of his clenched fist. The moment he drove it forward, the strike was heavier—denser—than anything he'd thrown yet.
Reid's body snapped low, chest brushing the air as Gojo's fist ripped the space above him apart. In the same motion, his torso twisted—chopsticks flashing in a horizontal slash.
"Oh?"
A ripple of danger hit him from the side.
"Gurgh!?"
Gojo hacked up blood, jerking just enough to save his guts from being skewered. The chopsticks carved through his chest instead, punching clean out the other side before continuing their path—slicing Subaru's incoming black pillar in half.
The darkness didn't die. It split, then branched into countless writhing tendrils.
"Hoh—"
Reid's grin twitched wider. He didn't step back. The chopsticks blurred—not once, not a dozen times, but a hundred, each thrust so fast they blurred into a single shape. In less than a heartbeat, every tendril was shredded into drifting fragments.
A shadow loomed—Gojo's foot slammed against Reid's guard from the side, forcing him to stagger two steps across the void. He caught himself instantly, spinning back into stance.
The grin sharpened.
"Y'see… you—you're a hell of a lot more entertainin' than that small fry back there, thinkin' he's slick tryin' to catch ME off guard."
Reid burst into laughter, head thrown back.
"Gyahahaha—!"
"You've not seen anything yet, former Sword Saint…" Gojo's voice cut through the noise, his tone sharp, brows knitting beneath the blindfold. He leaned forward, sinking into a low stance—legs coiled, every muscle primed.
Then he moved.-
He wasn't Reid's equal in skill—not by a long shot—but Gojo's precision, speed, and instinct were honed enough to overwhelm almost anyone else alive. When he decided to close a gap, it happened.
Because he was Satoru Gojo.
His first strike—a straight punch—ripped the air above Reid's head. But Reid pivoted under it like smoke, the motion flowing into a palm thrust aimed squarely for Gojo's gut.
It missed. Barely.
Gojo sidestepped, twisting into a rising kick aimed to take Reid's head clean off.
A flash—Reid's chopsticks reappeared as if they'd never left his grip. In the blink of an eye, they carved a web of deep lacerations across Gojo's leg before the kick could even land. Gojo fell back, but not far enough—Reid's vertical slash whistled upward, grazing along the side of his face.
Gojo's hand snapped up, fingers forming the shape of a gun. A vermillion sphere bloomed at his fingertips, pulsing with lethal force.
"Red—!"
Reid didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't care.
The grin just stretched wider. As the blast screamed toward him, he flicked his wrist—one clean motion—and the chopsticks split the approaching Red in two. The cursed energy tore into diverging paths, screaming harmlessly around the first Sword Saint.
Gojo's eyes widened behind the blindfold.
Impossible.
That shouldn't work. Couldn't work. His abilities weren't something you could just fundamentally slice apart like any physical matter. Yet it had happened, right in front of his eyes.
Reid rolled his shoulder at the sight of Gojo's evident confusion., scratching at his chest through the open part of his red kimono.
"Gah. As I said before, y'dumbass—there ain't nothin' I can't cut. Y'think I was fuckin' kidding back then or somethin'?"
Reid didn't take a step. He couldn't, not with Subaru on the attack. Instead, his spine bent backward in a grotesque ninety-degree arc, head tilted to stare at the endless white sky above. A spear of darkness screamed past where his skull had been—missing by a wide margin.
The weapon vanished before it even finished flying. Subaru was already there, bringing a heel down from overhead like an executioner's axe.
Reid caught it with one hand. Effortless.
"Y'gotta understand, small fry, I ain't—"
His words broke as something flickered in his vision—right from under Subaru's boot. Darkness burst forth at point-blank range, a spike lancing toward his face.
Reid's neck snapped to the side, the spear brushing past, before his hand clamped down on Subaru's ankle. One twist, one pull—and Subaru's world turned upside down. The next moment he was airborne, hurled like a ragdoll straight at Gojo.
Gojo intercepted cleanly, catching Subaru by the collar before setting him on unsteady feet.
"Argh… thanks, Gojo-sensei…"
Reid's expression flattened.
"Tsk. Tut tut tut… at this rate, neither of y'are passin' this trial at this rate…"
The shift in tone was followed by a wave of pure killing intent. It slammed into them like a collapsing ocean. Subaru's lungs locked; his body forgot how to breathe. He dropped to his knees, hacking and clawing for air. Gojo's brow twitched beneath the blindfold.
Then Gojo's hands clasped together.
"Maximum Output—Blue!"
The colossal sphere roared forward, dragging the world into it. Reid bent his knees and vaulted into the air—toward the attack with a wild grin on his face. His body twisted mid-flight, chopsticks flashing, and the Blue split apart in two perfect halves that screamed past him harmlessly as he descended.
He came down like a meteor. The wooden sticks slammed into Gojo's crossed forearms, digging deep enough to draw blood before Reid ripped them back and approached once more.
He pressed the assault. Each motion faster than the last, flickers of wood swiping like razors, never relenting. Every dodge from Gojo was a near-death—a crimson nick across the cheek, a tear along his sleeve, a slice that carved too close to tendon.
There's no openings whatsoever…!
His teeth clenched as he stepped and evaded to the best of his abilities.
It's like fighting a meaner, nastier Reinhard!
A single step back—
And space warped beneath his heel. Crimson light erupted upward, detonating between them.
The blast blew smoke and debris sky-high. Reid was already out of it, bursting forward, weaving around each fresh Blue hurled his way before he fully closed in, twisting his body into a spinning kick—
—and Infinity was severed cleanly through.
Not a blade. Not even steel. Just sheer force and unrivalled skill, cleaving along Gojo's legs like they were paper with slashing and brute force combined, the impact launching him off the ground into a spin.
"Hrk—!" Blood spat from Gojo's lips, hot and bitter.
He crashed onto the floor with a brutal thud. Reid's boot slammed down onto his chest, the force squeezing the air from his lungs in a savage, unrelenting grip. Gojo's spine arched painfully against the sterile white ground.
Reid exhaled slowly, his cold blue eyes boring down into the Sorcerer trapped beneath him.
"...Not impressed."
His heel pressed deeper, the pressure not just weight but a suffocating presence—an unyielding certainty that no matter what Gojo tried, it wouldn't change a thing. Maybe it wouldn't. But Gojo smiled through the crushing weight, teeth clenched, eyes sharp.
Reid's brow twitched, curiosity flickering behind his icy gaze.
"Hrr... fuck're you smilin' abo—"
Gojo's hands twitched—almost too slight to notice.
At this close, Infinity was useless. Reid had shredded it before.
So Gojo didn't fight it.
The air shifted around them—not with a blast, but a pull. Like an invisible force clawing everything toward Gojo's chest, the gravity of Blue swelling, condensing into a singularity.
Reid's stance wavered, just the barest hint of imbalance.
Gojo's right hand flickered, fingers curling into wide open palms before clapping together. The vermilion flare of Red ignited instantly—and then, impossibly, it layered over Blue.
They screamed together.
Hollow Technique: Purple.
No time to parry. No space to dodge.
The sphere bloomed at point-blank range, a ravenous orb consuming all void between them.
BOOM—!
A searing light swallowed them whole. A shockwave tore through the endless white space, shaking the very air.
Subaru flinched, shielding his face as the roaring void crashed down.
When the brilliance faded, Gojo knelt, one hand gouged into the scorched floor. His uniform hung in tatters, bandages shredded and fluttering, revealing the cerulean blue orbs lingering beneath. But the grin on his bloodied face was defiant—pain and pride mingling.
Reid stood several meters away, unscathed but marked.
A faint black scorch stained his kimono; a shallow cut traced his cheek. His hair smoked faintly.
And he was laughing.
"Gyahahaha—! Now that was somethin', you sly bastard!" He jabbed a finger at Gojo. "Didn't think you'd blow yourself up like that just to land a hit!"
The grin faded, replaced by a nod of reluctant respect.
"Bah... fuck it... I am a man of my words so you can go sit off to the side 'n twiddle yer thumbs or somethin', consider me a little impressed, you."
Gojo exhaled heavily and pushed himself upright, giving one look to Subaru before dragging Shaula along with him.
"Alright then... small fry's turn, huh? You got any more tricks? Or just that fancy black shit of yours, you?"
Reid's smirk deepened, now barehanded. The chopsticks had been eviscerated by Purple—but that was meaningless. Reid had been the sword itself this entire time, wielding a blade was nothing more than a way of amusement and simply not needed.
Subaru's stomach churned. The clash he'd just watched had been barely within his ability to follow—and Gojo's last attack, the one that could have erased Subaru entirely, had left Reid almost untouched. Laughing.
Even so, Subaru lunged forward, cursed energy flooding his limbs. His fist shot out in a clean jab toward Reid's face.
"Haa… listen here—"
Reid tilted his head at the last instant, letting the punch pass by a whisper.
"You're boring, you. This again? Did seein' stars not clue you in that rushin' me is stupid as hell, you prick?"
He didn't counter. He didn't need to. He simply stood there, parrying every hook, jab, and kick with mechanical precision. It was like fighting something inhuman. Every movement Subaru made was read, dissected, and nullified before it could matter.
CRACK—
Subaru's head snapped back, blood trailing from his nose. He staggered, blinking, unsure what had even hit him.
By the time he realized, Reid was already there—closing the gap quicker than sound could register. His bare hand sliced upward like a blade, aiming to split Subaru open.
Subaru twisted away, replying with a desperate hook that skimmed inches from Reid's cheek. Reid simply leaned back, balancing effortlessly on one foot—then whipped the other upward in a blur, hooking Subaru's chin and launching him into the air.
The boy twisted mid-flight, landing hard and shaking his head to banish the haze.
"Urgh… I can return by—hrkk!"
The cursed energy roared hotter in his veins, burning through his body. He blurred forward again, faster this time—
Reid's nose wrinkled.
"Tch. That stink—fuckin' disgusting…"
His palm caught Subaru's punch like it was nothing despite being stronger. His elbow slammed into Subaru's face a heartbeat later, snapping him backward—then a barefoot drove deep into his ribs. The sharp crack of bone carried through the white void as Subaru was flung across the space.
Reid was already there when Subaru's tumbling body reached its arc, twisting into a kick that could have folded him in half—
A black wall erupted from the ground, shielding Subaru on instinct.
Reid's brows lifted, then drew together in mild annoyance.
"Y'not get me or somethin'?"
He shifted his angle of attack slightly—and his bare foot sliced through the barrier like wet paper, smashing into Subaru's side and sending him rolling. He coughed blood across the pale floor.
"Listen, you. I can cut light—"
"—The opposite won't make a damn difference, you prick."
Gojo watched with a frown, brows knitting in quiet unease.
Reid is still holding back massively… but at this rate, there's no way Subaru can make him retreat eitherway. Not with how he's fighting right now.
Subaru was doubled over, hacking and retching gastric acid and blood onto the pristine floor—a pitiful mess—yet he still forced himself upright, swaying like a dying candle flame.
"I can return by—rhk!"
Pressure built inside him, a boiling surge that made his eyes go wide.
"I can… return by—hagk!!"
Blood streamed from his tear ducts. And still, he stepped forward. Then sprinted.
No, charged. Like a rabid dog.
Reid tilted his head, smirk curling. The speed was new, noticeable.
"Hoh?!"
An onyx blade bloomed in Subaru's grip, its edge cloaked in swirling miasma and cursed energy.
"Bah—your sword skills are lousy as hell, you—"
In Reid's hand, a stick appeared from nowhere. He met Subaru's slash in a clash that flared for just a moment before his weapon slid downward, parrying the blade aside with lazy precision. His leg whipped around in a roundhouse for Subaru's face—
Subaru narrowly ducked under it, surging up with a rising swing.
"Hraagh!"
Reid caught the full-powered strike on his stick with insulting ease. The black blade wrenched from Subaru's grip and sent hurtling through the air before dissipating into nothing.
"Tsck, tsck… stop tryin' to be somethin' you ain't. A sword ain't for everyone—and clearly, it ain't for you."
Crude, but true. Subaru had no real swordsmanship just yet—only raw power duct-taped into rookie-levels of technique that most half-decent knights could dismantle if not for the strength difference.
"Rhh… you!!"
His snarl warped into something feral as his hands erupted into talons—purple claws of cursed energy—slashing in a storm toward Reid. The swordsman ghosted around them with lazy precision, though one strike grazed close enough to shear several crimson strands from his head.
Reid's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. His stick swept down in a perfect vertical arc toward Subaru's centerline—Instinct roared. Subaru dropped low, knees folding before he sprang back, landing on all fours like some cornered beast. His head jerked up, legs tensing.
Then he pounced.
A kick—parried with a flick of the stick.
Another—parried.
Again—parried.
He barely touched the floor before his leg retracted and his claws came forward in a savage rake. Subaru let out a screamed of wrath and rage, aiming to carve Reid in two.
"Bah—stop fuckin' yellin, you tryin' to give me a headache, y'bastard?!"
Reid's stick twitched once—splitting the cursed energy itself. The claws shattered like glass and vanished despite his overwhelming negative emotions kindling them like flame, vanishing mid-swipe. Subaru's pupils shrank—not with fear, but with a surge of blind, boiling rage.
"Rhh… I.. CAN RETUR—"
"Subaru!!"
Gojo's voice cut through the haze. Subaru's head snapped toward him.
Satoru shook his head once.
Subaru froze. Memory struck—back to the mansion, back to Elsa—back to when pushing his body like this nearly killed him, Pride or no Pride. He didn't have it in him now. He never should have been doing this. And yet he had to be reminded… by someone who couldn't even remember what happened.
What a fool I am, huh?
"How boring, you."
Reid suddenly said, stepping forward—and his leg shot out like a guillotine.
The kick caved into Subaru's side, a bone-crunching impact that lifted him off his feet and sent him spinning through the air. His limp body hit the ground near Gojo's boots.
Reid dropped into a cross-legged seat, yawning before resting his fist on the side of his face.
"Whatever. You get as many tries as y'want for this trial anyway. The small fry's gonna need a shit-ton if he wants to pass. He's outta his depth with people like us—hell, he shouldn't even've been invited—"
"Shut the hell up."
Reid blinked.
"Gah?! What you—the hell you say you?!"
Gojo crouched, scooping up Subaru with one arm and Shaula with the other. His jaw was tight, his voice flat.
"Subaru's gonna pass this trial. That I can promise, Reid Astrea."
Reid's tongue clicked.
"Tsck tsck tsck… That borin' guy? You don't know what the fuck you're talkin' about, you…"
Gojo turned away, heading for the exit without another word.
Reid sighed as the sorcerer vanished from view, muttering under his breath.
"I prefer 'Stick Swinger' anyway. Tsck."
——————————————————
The Green Room door creaked open with a lazy kick from Gojo's foot. He stepped inside, setting Subaru down gently—right as the boy groaned awake from the trip down the absurdly long staircase to floor four: Alcyone.
Shaula was lowered next, still unconscious—though Gojo suspected that was much less "injury" and more "terror-induced shutdown."
The lesser spirits wasted no time rushing over Subaru, threads of warmth knitting into his battered body. Gojo crouched nearby, sighing.
"Well… I'd be lying if I said I didn't see this outcome coming…" he said casually.
Subaru grunted, shifting upright despite the sting in his ribs.
"Yeah, yeah… I know. But what else could I do? I went all-in and couldn't even scratch him."
Gojo chuckled.
"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly do thaaaat much better…"
He smirked faintly, then shrugged.
"It's annoying being under someone's foot like that… but I'll take my small win for nuking us both and actually landing a hit. Even if it didn't do much in the end."
Subaru only shrugged back, eyes trailing toward the ground as he lets out a sigh.
"Is it over then?"
"Ahh.. nah… Reid probably would've just killed you if we had only one attempt for this trial. That's why we're out here, and I'm not fighting for my life still inside of the trial room." Gojo replied with a flick of his wrist.
Subaru's gaze flicked back toward Gojo.
"…So now what? He knows everything I can—"
Gojo pressed a finger to Subaru's lips.
"Tsk. You don't have to beat him. You just need to play the game differently. The Subaru I know wouldn't try to brute force through someone ten levels above him—he'd play smart instead."
He grinned.
"After all… it's just one step to victory."
Flick!
The hit to his forehead made Subaru flinch—not yelp. His hand rose to his chin instead, gears already turning.
Pride is my biggest card besides Return by Death… but I've only been using it for shadows and darkness. There's another usage of it I've been ignoring 'cause I just can't understand it.
He clicked his tongue.
When Pride used it, eye contact made people completely unable to touch him. Not like a barrier, but like his gaze altered the trajectory of any attack that came it's way. Even Reinhard had to attack from the flank instead. But…
Images of Reid slicing through Gojo's supposedly unstoppable attacks flashed through his mind.
"No… he'd just cut through it. Like everything else."
If not that… then maybe—
"GAAAAAH!!"
Shaula shot upright, spinning into wild martial arts strikes before bouncing back on her heels.
"Uh… you good?" Gojo asked.
"Ah—yep! Totally fine! Where the heck—oh!"
She froze at the sight of Subaru's condition.
"Gahhh! What the hell happened to Master~?!"
"Tsck… maybe if someone hadn't passed out at first sight of—" Subaru started.
"Wh-what?! I would never faint from fear on such a serious occasion! Are you trying to make this tender maiden cry?!"
Gojo just sighed.
"Yeah, well, it happened. Subaru even bonked your head off the floor."
"Hey, that was an accident—!"
Subaru growled, sitting up before pain forced him back down.
Gojo leaned forward, smirking.
"Let's jog your memory, Shaula. A silhouette appeared in the white room—fiery red kimono, crimson hair… blue eyes—"
Shaula shrieked, instantly leaping toward Subaru's body on the ground, as if a reflexive reaction—only to be caught by her cape and plopped back down.
"W-w-WHY is that guy here?! This is bad, real bad!! I told you he was freaking unkillable!"
Gojo glanced at Subaru, whose blank stare made it clear he had not been told.
"Reid! The Stick Swinger!! That demon, that monster, that… thing! He's come back hundreds of years later to fondle my chest again—!"
Reid Astrea. The most skilled swordsman in history—slayer of Witchbeasts, master duelists, Dragons, and even Witches themselves. His existence alone forged the Astrea family name into what it is today, and he alone reached the Heavenly Sword. Four centuries ago, he stood toe-to-toe with the Witch of Envy herself, and could hold his own.
A man in form. A monster in truth.
Subaru exhaled slowly.
"…What is it with that family pumping out walking cheat codes? Never thought I'd say this but he's gotta be on par with Reinhard… right?"
He glanced at Gojo—after all, Reinhard was his knight, and the two often quite sparred.
Gojo tilted his head.
"Well… I'm inclined to believe Reid held back when we fought, but still pushed me hard. Reinhard's done the same. Neither went all out, so…" He shrugged. "Hard to say."
He frowned.
"What is weird… is that Reid's even here. Why would he be part of the watchtower's trials?"
Neither Subaru nor Shaula had an answer.
Gojo sighed.
"And he didn't seem to know Shaula despite ehh, her 'trauma'… but he was definitely alive.. if not that then sentient at least I suppose. If I had to guess—maybe this 'version' of him is before when you'd have met?" He gestured to Shaula.
"Best theory we've got I guess…" Subaru said.
"But… is this even possible for me? When you two fought, I could barely follow your movements. If he decides to go even slightly serious on me, I'm just bound to get my ass kicked for a second time."
Gojo thought for a moment. "…Then I guess you just… get lucky?"
"Great plan Gojo-sensei…" Subaru said flatly. "Luck against that guy? Genius."
Gojo leaned toward Shaula.
"Anything you can give us about him? Weaknesses? Habits?"
Shaula growled.
"That guy was human garbage!!"
"Yeah, got that part already, saw it in action too…" Gojo said. "We need something we can actually use."
She crossed her arms, thinking.
"Hmm… oh! After doing something—like groping me, or in this case beating you up—he'd always scratch his chest!"
"…That's useless." Subaru deadpanned.
"Gah! Your words cut me deeply, Master~! Okay, fine errrr—he's a total FREAK for women. That's aaaall I've got…"
Gojo smirked, eyes sliding toward Subaru.
"Well… if we had a wig, you could totally—"
"Urgh—" Subaru shuddered. "I'd rather rot here for eternity than—"
"Wahh… forever with me, Master~?" Shaula's eyes sparkled.
"Back to the serious note…" Subaru said, shaking his head.
"I might have… something. But I can only try it once. And I don't know if it'll even work."
Gojo leaned back, crossing his arms.
"Well… I've got nothing better. Hit me with the plan Subaru!"