Four years had passed since my first real fight. Four years of silent observation, careful calculation, and ruthless refinement. My puppets had grown. Arthur and Lancelot were no longer clumsy beyond hope—they moved faster, reacted sharper, obeyed instinctively. The new puppets, though still awkward and ugly as hell, were learning. They were no longer toys; they were tools, weapons, and extensions of my goddamn will.
But tools weren't enough. Obedience alone wasn't power. I wanted more. I wanted versatility. I wanted them to be killers that could fight like real curses, not just clumsy blocks swinging at rats.
It's time to make them fucking dangerous.
The Beginning of Vow Two
I crouched in the shadows of the alley, eyes narrowing at the faint flicker of movement. A small curse slithered forward, weak, harmless—but I didn't waste my time.
"Arthur, Lancelot… the new ones, pay attention," I whispered, hands twitching with cursed energy.
I had been experimenting mentally for weeks, testing the possibility of puppets absorbing curse techniques. Until now, they had only used basic cursed energy attacks, blocky swings, and crude strikes. But the potential had been there all along—tiny sparks in their obedience, hints of what could be.
If they consume the energy of a curse, they can copy its technique. Fuck yes…
I focused. The curse flinched. Arthur lunged, Lancelot followed, and the new puppets moved clumsily to surround it. Arthur's golden fist struck first. Lancelot's shadow pulse cut through the air. The curse hissed, releasing fragments of cursed energy.
Perfect.
I directed the new puppets to absorb the fragments. They shivered as the cursed energy passed into them, awkward, unrefined, but unmistakable. I felt it too—the energy connecting, flowing, integrating into their crude forms. For the first time, they weren't just obedient—they were learning a fucking skill.
This is it. This is Vow Two coming online.
The Test
The small curse wasn't enough. I needed something bigger. Something dangerous.
A twisted, hulking curse emerged from the darkness. Its body was covered in jagged growths, spikes jutting out like goddamn swords, eyes glowing with hatred. This was no weak scavenger. This was a predator.
I crouched, analyzing every twitch, every shadowed movement. My puppets lined up. Arthur and Lancelot in front, the new ones flanking, awkward but obedient.
"Obey. Learn. Kill. Don't fuck this up," I hissed.
The curse lunged. One of the new puppets, still crude, absorbed its first attack. Pain coursed through its wooden frame as the cursed energy integrated. Another puppet followed, learning instinctively how to mirror the attack with a minor pulse of cursed energy. Arthur and Lancelot moved with near-perfect precision, swinging, striking, absorbing.
The fight was chaotic, brutal. Shadows twisted, cursed energy exploded in fragments, puppets shattered slightly only to rebuild. I didn't flinch. I didn't panic. I cataloged every reaction, every twitch, every success and failure.
The curse shrieked, lunging again, but this time one of the new puppets shot out a pulse of stolen energy—a technique the curse itself had used, now mirrored clumsily by my creation. It hit the curse directly, staggering it.
Yes… yes, yes! This is exactly what I fucking wanted.
Observation and Ruthlessness
After the fight, I crouched in the shadows, watching my puppets absorb the fragments of cursed energy from the defeated creature. They shivered, twitching, crude but alive. Arthur and Lancelot moved like extensions of my mind. The new puppets, still awkward, were beginning to mimic the curse techniques.
I didn't feel empathy for the cursed creature. I didn't feel pride for my puppets. I cataloged, I analyzed, I planned. Every mistake, every flinch, every fragment absorbed was a lesson. Obedience under extreme pressure was everything, but skill had just started to matter.
They will learn faster than anyone expects. They will obey flawlessly. They will become fucking unstoppable.
The Tenfold Pact Looms
Vow Two was technically active now. My puppets could replicate curse techniques by consuming cursed energy directly. But that was just the start. The Tenfold Pact, my first Binding Vow, still limited me to ten puppets, but now each of those puppets could potentially wield the power of any curse it consumed.
Ten puppets. Special Grade. Versatile as fuck. Unstoppable. All obedient.
I let my mind run through scenarios, calculating every possible fight, every possible curse, every possible battlefield. I grinned faintly—cold, sharp, ruthless.
The world doesn't know it yet. But it will. And when it does… it's going to fucking regret it.
Reflection
I wasn't a kid. I wasn't weak. I wasn't a soft little orphan crying for attention. I was Von. Seven in body, twenty-one in mind. Ruthless, patient, precise. Every small curse I destroyed, every fragment absorbed by my puppets, every lesson learned brought me closer to perfection.
I imagined my army one day—ten perfect soldiers, Special Grade, using every curse technique they had consumed. Coordinated, lethal, and utterly obedient. My mind, my cursed energy, and my puppets—these were weapons. And I would wield them without mercy.
Obedience. Power. Ruthlessness. Everything else is a fucking distraction.
Closing Thoughts
The alley was silent now, littered with cursed fragments and the faint scent of decay. My puppets, crude but alive, shivered and pulsed faintly with energy. Arthur and Lancelot were ready for anything. The new puppets had begun their first lesson in real combat and cursed technique absorption.
Vow Two was live. Tenfold Pact was imminent. And I… I was Von.
The world wouldn't see me coming. The world wouldn't survive.
This is only the fucking beginning