"𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐰." - 𝑵𝒂𝒐𝒚𝒂 𝒁𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏
⟶ He was born a king, and he reigned as a god. Gojo didn't walk-he crushed. His laughter slapped the w...
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The walls of the forbidden prison still reeked of clotted blood, mixed with the scent of rust and extinguished curses. Where silence now reigned, the foundations still trembled from the battle that had nearly torn everything apart.
They had all witnessed it: the roar of curses, the cracking of bones, the spray of blood like wild brushstrokes. Two men had clashed in the depths — Naoya Zen'in, the golden beast of his clan, and the Kamo General, the Red Painter, a refined torturer and master of blood.
They had broken each other.
Torn, lacerated, gutted.
Naoya had been found sprawled across the floor, mouth full of blood, his arm dislocated, eyes fixed on the other body lying a few meters away — the General, jaw shattered, chest crushed, but still alive, still crawling in agony. Both had nearly died — and each had wanted to be the last one standing.
The Council merely murmured behind curtains of incense: "Two dogs bit each other. Let the masters pick up what's left."
The Kamo clan retrieved their general in a healing coffin, limbs wrapped in living blood bandages. The Zen'in clan carried Naoya out on a stretcher, silent, teeth clenched, but with his pride intact.
And at the center of it all stood Chihiro — no longer an exorcist. That was the only condition. She was allowed to live, but stripped of her purpose. A mute priestess, without role, without assignment. A woman with clean hands — but a voice no longer heard in the circles of sorcerers.
