The tension in the air was heavy—thick enough to make even the bravest Onmyoji pause mid-step.
"Yo~ miss me~"
The voice came from behind, calm and edged with teasing amusement even in this situation.
Turning slightly, Seigen Amawaka gave Gojo Satoru a flat, unimpressed look.
"Not with your little girlfriend anymore?"
Although Gojo's strength was ridiculous—enough to tear through the laws of space itself—his romantic record was just as legendary for all the wrong reasons.
First, a flirtation with the Saintly Queen among the Twelve Heavenly Generals.
Now, apparently, a high school girl from Tokyo.
Seigen clicked his tongue. Unlike me, he thought grimly, who hasn't even looked at a woman since my divorce.
"You shouldn't gossip so much, Uncle Wastewood," Gojo said casually, appearing right beside him and clapping a hand on Seigen's shoulder.
The older man's face darkened. "Don't touch me."
"And," Gojo continued, grinning, "aren't you planning to get back together with that ex-wife of yours?"
For a moment, Seigen froze.
His expression hardened. Then he replied evenly, voice flat but betraying something deeper.
"No. I'm not interested in her. Or in any woman."
Gojo raised an eyebrow, smirk tugging at his lips.
Yeah right.
He knew that Seigen's divorce had never been about falling out of love—it was protection. The man had too many enemies, both human and demon.
To keep his family safe, he had chosen solitude.
Before Gojo could tease him further, Seigen's expression shifted suddenly. His eyes flashed with spiritual light.
"There's a demonic presence."
"I know," Gojo murmured, releasing Seigen's shoulder. His tone changed—still casual, but with an undercurrent of focus. "Been feeling it since the barrier fell."
The black miasma that had covered the amusement park was slowly dissipating, revealing faint silhouettes within the smoke. From the shadows ahead, something emerged—a towering figure, easily five meters tall.
Its skin looked like it was made from… various different skin—
Pale, smooth, and disturbingly human, yet stitched together by some grotesque design. Two heads sat on its shoulders, both wearing twisted smiles. Every step it took corroded the ground beneath it, leaving a trail of hissing decay.
Gojo's nose wrinkled.
"Gross. Seriously, who designs these things? Some demon interior decorator?"
He rubbed his arms with mock disgust. "Ugh, I'm getting goosebumps just looking at it. You handle this one, Uncle Firewood."
"You really like to dump your work on others," Seigen muttered, though a ghost of a smirk touched his lips.
Without hesitation, he crouched and picked up several shards of broken stone from the ground. A faint blue glow enveloped his fingers as spiritual power surged into the rubble.
"Void-rending Magic Bullet" (Rekku Madan)
The words left his mouth like a spell-triggered spark.
The stones shot forward, streaking through the air like blue comets.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A symphony of explosions echoed as each piece struck the demon. Arcs of blue lightning crackled violently, tearing through its limbs.
Both legs shattered.
Both arms fell limp.
The grotesque body toppled, crashing to the ground with a sickening thud.
""Damn Onmyoji—!!"" the two heads screamed in unison, their voices shrill and grating, like nails clawing glass.
Seigen exhaled slowly. "Intelligent enough to speech, huh? You're a special one."
(You are my special~~~)
He lifted one final stone between his fingers and flicked it.
Crack.
Both heads burst like overripe melons, spraying sickly green blood into the air.
As the remains began to disintegrate, one mouth—barely intact—murmured,
"The master… will punish you…"
Then the body dissolved into ashes and vanished with the wind.
Gojo blinked, tilting his head.
"A 'master,' huh? So there really is a big boss behind all this."
He smiled lightly. "But seriously, doesn't this feel like a movie? We beat one monster, it drops some cryptic line about its master, and then we just wait for the final boss to show up."
Seigen didn't even look at him. "Less commentary. More work."
He pointed upward, his tone grave. "That magic formation in the sky—it's still active. Can you break it?"
Gojo followed his gaze.
Above them, the clouds churned unnaturally. Suspended in the air was a massive black formation—an intricate circle veiled in dark mist.
Faint blue light pulsed from its core, flickering like a heartbeat.
"Hmm…" Gojo hummed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Looks familiar. Big, scary, mysterious. I like it."
"Gojo!."
"Relax." He raised his hand lazily, index finger pointing at the heavens. "I'll blow it away in one shot."
Energy started gathering around him—the air itself trembling under the pull of cursed and spiritual power blending into something vast, infinite.
But before he could release it, his hand froze midair.
He let out a soft sigh and lowered his arm.
"Sigh.."
Seigen frowned. "What's wrong?"
"There's… a distraction," Gojo said quietly, eyes shifting to the right. His voice carried an edge now, but there was still a faint trace of amusement beneath the seriousness. "A pretty noisy one."
Seigen turned sharply, following Gojo's gaze.
And there—standing just a few paces away—was a man who hadn't been there a second ago.
His presence was disturbing—
Elegant, yet suffocating.
He was tall, with pale skin and long hair streaked in deep blue and black. His ears were pointed, his smile faint and disturbingly polite. Beneath half-lidded eyes were dark circles that gave him a haunting charm, like a painting that moved when you weren't looking.
Seigen's muscles tensed immediately. "White Tiger — Beast Claw Form."
Blue energy flared around him, his stance tightening.
The stranger chuckled softly. "My, my… no need for such hostility~"
"You are?" Seigen's tone was flat, but his spiritual aura crackled like fire.
The man tilted his head, almost amused.
"The great White Tiger of the Twelve Heavenly Generals… and the strongest, Gojo Satoru. To be called 'a distraction' by you—now that's a bit rude~."
He stepped fully into the open. His movements were graceful, refined—like a nobleman strolling through a ballroom.
"But if it's not too much trouble," he continued, eyes drifting upward toward the floating formation, "I would prefer if you didn't destroy that. Breaking it would make me rather… distressed."
Seigen's voice dropped to a growl. "You're a demon."
"Ah, forgive my manners." The man bowed lightly, placing a hand over his heart. "My name is Astaroth. It's a pleasure to meet you."
The name hit Seigen like a thunderclap.
His breath caught for a brief second.
Astaroth… one of the sons of the Demon King Satan. One of the Eight Demon Princes—the Corrupt King.
Even Gojo's grin faltered for a moment before stretching back into its usual smugness.
"Oh? So we're skipping the mid-boss and going straight to one of the big eight, huh?"
Astaroth's faint smile didn't waver. "Ah, so you've heard of me."
He spread his arms, posture impeccable, voice dripping with aristocratic poise.
"Yes, I am one of the Eight Demon Princes—the Corrupt King himself."
He smiled kindly, though his eyes glowed faintly crimson.
"Now then, may I humbly request that you refrain from interfering? I'm quite fond of that little magic array. It's… delicate work."
Gojo cracked his neck lazily. "Hmm… let me think."
Then he grinned. "No."
Astaroth blinked once. "…Excuse me?"
"I mean," Gojo said, waving a hand dismissively, "you're kind of in the way, 'Chicken King.' Or should I say 'Duck King'? Either way, I don't take orders from poultry."
That smile—the one that could unnerve gods—curved across Gojo's face again, bright and dangerous.
Seigen exhaled slowly, spiritual power flaring beside him.
"You just had to provoke him, didn't you?"
Gojo smirked, lowering his blindfold slightly, revealing those impossibly blue eyes that seemed to swallow the world.
"Of course. Otherwise, where's the fun?"
Wind roared through the broken amusement park as the Corrupt King faced the Strongest Sorcerer, while the White Tiger General prepared his claws for battle.
The real fight was only just beginning.
...
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