The collapsed shrine, the crumbling Domain, the upright Sōjun Minamoto, and the shattered Aragami—
Together, they painted a strangely harmonious scene.
The Aragami wasn't dead yet. It was still trying to shift its essence into one of the remaining statues, planning to escape from the man in front of it.
Unfortunately, Sōjun Minamoto and the others had already anticipated this. The trap was set—they were just waiting for the turtle to walk into the jar.
Not even counting what Suguru Geto had prepared.
Sōjun Minamoto gave it no chance whatsoever.
He had already crouched before the largest remaining piece of Aragami's torso. With a light touch of his fingertips, crimson bloomed. A blood-red glow spread across the fragment, and it slowly morphed back into the form of a god statue:
A fire serpent coiled around its arm, fanged green face, long flowing hair, a towering, muscular build. Ash-gray stone patterns lined its muscles, evoking a mix of divine power and strange beauty.
The rest of the scattered fragments dissolved into black mist and vanished.
At that moment, inside the village chief's home, all the Aragami statues that had been gathered began to glow faint red. Then, they began to melt away, corroded by the spreading crimson.
No—across the entire village, every statue connected to the Aragami, whether buried underground or hidden in secret corners, was swept clean by the red glow and completely dissolved.
The Aragami remained the same. Sōjun Minamoto hadn't fully assimilated it yet.
Domains were a powerful thing. Cursed Energy + Technique + Innate Domain.
So what was an Innate Domain?
It was an internal world—a heartscape. A domain of the mind that everyone possessed, even non-sorcerers.
If he were to fully assimilate the Aragami and erase its ego, then its Imaginary Domain would vanish along with it.
That would be a waste.
So he needed to find a way to solidify that Domain first.
It could be done. He wasn't sure it was possible with other Domains, but with the Aragami's, it had to be. Even if it couldn't—it would.
Because even before they arrived at the village, the Aragami's Domain already had an unusual structure. It had taken semi-solid form, reflected in the village as a grand shrine, with the small temple in the real world serving as its entrance—linking surface and depths.
That meant it could be relocated—bound to something else, and fully anchored in place.
He thought the White Bone Tree would be a perfect match.
Sōjun Minamoto already had a plan. His hands moved without pause.
He brushed off the dust and picked up the village's only remaining Aragami statue. He plucked out one eyeball, sprinkled a few flecks of gold dust into it, and as the heat from his palm rose, wrapped it with Cursed Energy and kneaded it a few times. The eyeball condensed into a smooth, round golden core, which he pressed into the statue's forehead. The golden eye blinked twice, then shut.
Satisfied, Sōjun Minamoto nodded, compressed the statue into a thumb-sized swirling orb, and tucked it into his pocket. Then he walked straight out of the small temple, heading toward the village chief's house.
A deafening crash erupted behind him.
The small temple had collapsed as well, but he didn't glance back.
A real man never looks back at the explosion.
As Sōjun Minamoto walked through the village, he extended his five senses outward. He found no lingering traces of the Aragami, and not a single living creature. The silence was absolute.
Of course it was. Everyone was gone. The entire village had become a dead zone. The Aragami hadn't acted often, but when it did—it moved on a massive scale.
After finishing his sweep, Sōjun Minamoto returned to the village chief's house.
Suguru Geto shook his head. He'd searched inside and out, multiple times. Not a single survivor—not even a chicken, duck, or dog remained.
The only good news was that the mission was complete.
But completing it like this… reporting back was going to be a headache.
As for the Grade 2 sorcerer involved in the mission, he was essentially a Curse User—collaborating with the Aragami. He was pulverized along with the shrine by Sōjun Minamoto just moments ago.
The only people left in the village were right here—just the two in front of them. Oh, and the village chief's parents were still around too.
With the Aragami gone, they were finally freed. From now on, they would exist in the form of spiritual bodies made of Cursed Energy.
But don't mistake that for a blessing. The dead who can't pass on, and the living who can't see them—what's left is neither here nor there. They're like wandering ghosts, unable to touch or affect anything, left to drift aimlessly until time gradually erases them.
The village chief sat blankly on the ground. His wife stood beside him, cradling his head against her chest. At a moment like this, even she couldn't bring herself to say anything harsh.
Suguru Geto was outside, recalling the Cursed Spirits he had deployed.
The two pale-blue spirit forms exchanged a glance, then approached Sōjun Minamoto. He was the only one who could see them—Suguru Geto could only sense faint traces of Cursed Energy.
They tugged at the corner of Sōjun Minamoto's sleeve, a soft pull that brushed against his soul.
?
Help us—free us from this curse.
That was the impression Sōjun Minamoto received from their souls.
Back when the Aragami was still around, they had been trying to hang on, doing what little they could. But now that it was gone, they had nothing left tying them to this world.
They'd spoiled their son too much in life—so much that even in his fifties, he still acted like a child.
They glanced back at the village chief.
Now was the time to finally let go.
Existing in this state was painful. They had barely held on because of unresolved feelings. But once that knot in their hearts loosened, all that remained was suffering.
They weren't confident they could stay conscious of who they were as they continued to exist like this.
If the curse overtook them, who knew what kind of harm they might do?
That was why they turned to Sōjun Minamoto for release.
If even the one person who could see them couldn't help...
Sōjun Minamoto extended his hand, gently pressing his fingertips to their foreheads. Cursed Energy flowed out, outlining their forms.
Their figures solidified into temporary bodies. No longer floating, they gently settled onto the ground. A single crimson thread wound itself around their index fingers.
This kind of temporary body didn't require something as rare as a Golden Core.
The village chief's face froze in shock as he stared wide-eyed at his suddenly reappeared parents.
"Foolish child..."
That line, of course, came through Sōjun Minamoto's automatic translation.
The two took a few quick steps toward the village chief. As they raised their hands, he instinctively ducked his head and tensed up, expecting a slap.
But instead, two warm palms rested on his head, gently ruffling his hair...
The village chief couldn't hold back his tears.
His parents' spirits began to dissolve into white motes of light. They whispered words of comfort and guidance as they stroked his face. At the end, his mother pressed her forehead to his—then her face, too, turned into light and drifted upward, leaving behind just a lingering trace of warmth.
There's a term used for moments like this—whether in the jujutsu world or among ordinary people.
"Becoming a Buddha."
Suguru Geto came to stand beside Sōjun Minamoto. The two watched the scene unfold in silence.
So really—how could longing ever be considered a negative emotion?
It was only because of the Aragami's interference.
In truth, lifting their curse had been simple.
There are two ways to break a curse: one is exorcism, the other is for the caster to release it themselves.
Sōjun Minamoto was an expert at the former.
But the one who cursed the village chief's parents—was the village chief himself. All it took was guiding him to undo it on his own.
At that moment, he truly understood—it was time to part ways with his parents. Time to grow up. Even if he was already a child in his fifties.
Once he let go of his emotional baggage, the curse lifted as well.
And the spirits moved on to where they were meant to go.
As Sōjun Minamoto watched the fading glow in the sky, his mind was already elsewhere. All shikigami users know—the gods and spirits they serve aren't from this world...
So maybe there really is a place where the dead belong.
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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