Before the main hall, Aomori waved his hand, causing Yuji and the others to regain consciousness.
When putting on a show, the more spectators, the better.
"Huh... where are we?" Yuji muttered, still groggy from sleep.
"Those guys are..." Megumi Fushiguro's eyes immediately locked onto the Cursed Spirits. "That's Hanami, the Special Grade from last time! Are the ones next to it its allies? I can't believe there are so many Special Grades. What are they doing?"
Shoko Ieiri stared intently at "Suguru Geto," her brow furrowed. "Suguru Geto... No, you're not him. Satoru made a mistake back then."
Mahito, who had been awake for a while, grinned at Jogo. "Ah, did you guys come to rescue me?"
"Mahito!"
Seeing that Mahito was unharmed, Jogo let out a huge sigh of relief. The fact that the self-proclaimed God hadn't killed him immediately meant there was a chance to bring him over to their side. Compared to Ryomen Sukuna, whose attitude was even more ambiguous, Jogo felt it would be better to recruit Aomori, who was a fellow Cursed Spirit.
"Ah! I remember you, Volcano Head! The one who got trashed by Gojo-sensei!" Yuji pointed at Jogo, shouting.
"You brat!" That battle was the ultimate stain on Jogo's pride. To have the wound reopened in public made him want to kill Yuji on the spot.
"Hey, you'd better be quiet! This is the momentous occasion where the Great God manifests His power!" Nanako barked angrily.
Seeing their confusion, Mimiko briefly explained the current situation to them in a few words.
"One move to defeat the enemy? Interesting." Megumi felt his condition was fine; he wasn't bound and could flee at any time. However, having experienced Aomori's techniques in the underground cavern, he didn't want to make a futile effort. He wouldn't move until he saw Satoru Gojo.
"The audience is assembled. Let it begin," Aomori declared.
The group immediately entered "spectator mode."
Jogo watched Aomori's every movement without blinking, mentally gauging the gap between them.
The ever-cautious Kenjaku naturally wouldn't take Aomori lightly. Anyone who claimed the title of "God," even if they were just seeking fame, had to have some skill. Thus, he released all the Cursed Spirits he had absorbed in one go, forming a massive wall in front of him.
"Eh, that's Geto's Innate Technique! He can even steal that?" Shoko Ieiri said in surprise.
Suguru Geto's Innate Technique was called Cursed Spirit Manipulation. As the name implied, he could absorb defeated Cursed Spirits and control them at will. According to the rank conversion, if the gap was more than two grades, he could bypass the subjugation process and acquire the spirit almost unconditionally.
As one of the four Special Grade Sorcerers, Suguru Geto had captured over five thousand Cursed Spirits, including several Special Grades, all of which were released during the "Night Parade of a Hundred Demons" incident last year. A one-man army. Cursed Spirit Manipulation was a technique with immense potential.
Now that Kenjaku occupied his body, he had gained Cursed Spirit Manipulation and had collected many spirits himself. To face Aomori's single move, he unleashed a tide of grotesque Cursed Spirits.
However, in the environment saturated with Holy Light, even Special Grades like Jogo felt uncomfortable. The "trash" spirits fared much worse; they were purified into nothingness the moment they emerged. Only those at Grade 2 or higher managed to survive.
Seeing this, Kenjaku deployed his elite forces, at least a hundred spirits, all Grade 2 or higher. Leading them was one of his few Special Grades, "Blue-Skinned Ogre," a monster wielding a spiked club, possessing incredible durability and strength.
What did a Grade 2 Cursed Spirit represent? In terms of monsters humans could encounter, it would take at least a shotgun to stop one. A Grade 1 was difficult even for tanks to handle. And for a Special Grade, even carpet-bombing with cluster munitions would be useless.
Looking at the layers upon layers of Cursed Spirits before him, Kenjaku felt a surge of security and smiled confidently. "Just one move? I can definitely block it. How could I lose?"
"Whoa, that's a lot of Cursed Spirits. Can he really get them all in one move?" Yuji expressed his doubt.
Megumi looked deeper. "If he uses that energy surrounding us... he might."
You dare release a bunch of bottom-feeders?
Aomori smiled. He rose from his high chair and flew into the sky, looking down at Kenjaku and his horde. The "Sun" behind him moved to stand at his side. He reached out and grasped the "Sun," gathering ten thousand rays of light into his palm. As he absorbed the surrounding light energy, his entire hand became as dazzling and brilliant as a diamond.
"Such a powerful energy reaction!" Jogo marveled. To easily harness such a massive amount of energy was something far beyond its own reach.
Kenjaku watched solemnly, his previous confidence vanishing. Should I fight, or flee?
But fleeing now meant years of meticulous planning would go to waste. Who knew how many more years he would have to wait for another opportunity like this?
Maybe... I'll wait just a bit longer? Kenjaku knew he was gambling, but if he won, he would have the chance to fulfill his long-held wish!
Aomori's clear voice echoed in everyone's ears: "Have any of you heard of a palm technique that descends from the heavens?"
"?"
While everyone was confused, Aomori turned his palm and struck downward. The Holy Light in his hand detached, forming a colossal palm that blotted out the sun. Carrying a terrifying, boundless aura, it hurtled straight toward Kenjaku.
"Holy Passage: Tathagata Palm!"
As the Divine Palm descended, all demons fled!
Wherever it passed, the cold Cursed Energy was utterly obliterated. Before the palm even landed, the Grade 2 spirits were instantly turned to ash, and the Grade 1 spirits screamed in agony as green smoke rose from their bodies. Only the Special Grade, Blue-Skinned Ogre, roared at the palm of light, seemingly defiant of its fate.
"Blue-Skinned Ogre, hold the line!" Kenjaku hadn't expected Aomori's move to counter him so perfectly. All his hope vanished.
This isn't an opponent I can face. Escape! Escape! Escape!
Kenjaku made a split-second decision to "cut the tail to save the body." Fearing Aomori's pursuit, he even abandoned Suguru Geto's physical shell, seeking only a sliver of a chance to survive.
"I cannot die!"
He flipped open his own forehead, revealing his true form—a brain with a mouth. Kenjaku summoned a shadow-like Cursed Spirit and gave it one final command: "Transfer me immediately!"
"Roar!" Blue-Skinned Ogre jumped into the air, swinging its club at the descending giant palm of light. But the moment they touched, the club shattered like fragile porcelain. First the club, then the arm, and finally its entire body crumbled.
A Special Grade Cursed Spirit had fallen!
If even a Special Grade couldn't last a second, the lower-level spirits stood no chance, turning into ash the moment they were touched. Kenjaku's army had bought him a fraction of a second, just enough for him to use the spirit's spatial teleportation to escape before the light palm reached him.
After a shift in space, Kenjaku, now nothing but a brain, successfully escaped the third layer of the barrier. He looked around at the familiar black surroundings and realized he had been sent to the first layer.
"Is it the influence of the Curtain? Did it stop me from teleporting far enough?"
"Damn it! So close!" The thought of years of planning going down the drain made Kenjaku's heart ache, but as a thousand-year-old monster, he quickly adjusted his mindset. The priority was to recover his strength; in his current state with his Cursed Energy depleted, even a nameless nobody could take him down.
"God! I acknowledge your strength, but just you wait. I will return!"
Just as he was making his hollow threat, several shing-shing-shing whistling sounds rang out. Kenjaku felt his body being pierced. The long-forgotten sensation of pain made him groan.
But he had no time to worry about pain, because he felt a foreign Cursed Energy invading his body, and it seemed to be reacting.
"Wait... Wait a minute!" Kenjaku understood immediately what this was. His soul nearly left his body in terror. "Don't activate the technique! I am—"
Before he could finish, he heard a sharp cry: "Hairpin!"
The foreign Cursed Energy buried inside Kenjaku exploded, and his body was instantly torn into pieces, shattering completely.
How could this happen? If I still had my energy... if I had fled sooner... if I hadn't looked at those spirits out of curiosity... if... Kenjaku's thoughts grew blurry and finally faded into chaos.
There are no "ifs" in this world. The ambitious Kenjaku had finally met his end.
"Nobara, what happened?"
"Nothing. Just a disgusting low-level Cursed Spirit. Handled it easily."
"Good. We're still a distance away. Stay alert."
"Got it, got it."
…
Boom!
The Tathagata Palm slammed into the ground. The earth sank several centimeters, leaving a crystal-clear palm print. Jogo and the others weren't even as large as a single fingernail of that print.
"So strong!"
"Is this the power of a God?"
"This move... it's divine punishment, isn't it?"
"Hey, hey, can Gojo-sensei really beat him?"
"We have no choice. Gojo-sensei is our only hope."
Everyone had witnessed it. All the efforts of the mysterious and powerful Kenjaku were like a castle in the air before a single strike from the God. That unstoppable momentum was deeply branded into their souls. Had they been the ones defending, they would have also been turned to ash.
Jogo, being the strongest among them, saw much more than the others.
That energy... it actually suppresses Cursed Spirits. Is it positive energy, the polar opposite of our dark Cursed Energy? But... isn't he a Cursed Spirit too? Why can he control this energy? Could it be...
Could it be that he was no longer just a Cursed Spirit? But a higher lifeform transcending them. If that were true, then regardless of power or stage of life, he was a God in every sense of the word!
No wonder he looks down on us. No wonder he calls himself a God. Because he truly is one!
Realizing this, Jogo's arrogance vanished. Before a God, what did "natural disasters" like them matter? A casual strike from him was a natural disaster.
Aomori, unaware of Jogo's mental gymnastics, looked at the corpse of Suguru Geto lying in the center of the palm print. He huffed softly. "It escaped, but I suppose this counts as fulfilling your wish."
Since it had escaped, Aomori didn't intend to waste more time chasing it.
"Yes, yes!" Mimiko and Nanako knelt again, bowing to Aomori. "Thank you, Great God!"
"Now that your wish is fulfilled, you may leave." Aomori descended from the air and sat back in his high chair.
The two girls bowed once more in gratitude, then went to Suguru Geto's body. Looking at the face of their beloved master, they both broke into tears. Supporting his shoulders, they struggled to carry him out of the palm print. Before leaving the barrier, they gently set Geto down, turned back to bow again, and spoke with absolute devotion: "Great God, once we have settled everything, we will return. We wish to serve you for the rest of our lives."
"Unnecessary."
"Very well..." Facing the majestic Aomori, they didn't dare cross him. They agreed, but in their hearts, they were already prepared to dedicate their lives to him. They would just come back and try a few more times; surely the God would be moved by their sincerity.
With that conviction, the two of them left the barrier.
With Kenjaku dealt with, Aomori's gaze landed on Jogo. "Did you come here to challenge me?"
"No!" Jogo lowered his proud head without any hesitation, bowing deeply. "We have had the honor of witnessing your power. We are by no means your match."
"And so?"
"A God sees all. You must know the inherent flaws of humanity. If we Cursed Spirits were to replace humans as your subjects, it would surely benefit you. Therefore, we implore you to act and kill Satoru Gojo! As long as Gojo is gone, we can reclaim everything!"
"Bullshit!" Before Aomori could speak, Yuji shouted, "I know there are bad people among humans, but Cursed Spirits aren't exactly better! Everyone is working hard, doing their best to survive. I won't let you do whatever you want!"
"That's right," Megumi said with a smile. "Even if Gojo-sensei isn't here, we can stop you. Don't look down on humans, you bastard!"
"You human brats!"
The Cursed Spirits and Yuji's group were at each other's throats, on the verge of starting a fight.
"Enough." Aomori gave them a casual glance that sent a shiver down their spines, instantly silencing them.
"Your struggles mean nothing to me. All I care about is whether there is a strong person among you who can become nourishment for my continued evolution. Even without you saying it, I will fight Satoru Gojo. However, I will not kill him. A powerhouse like him deserves to stay alive, to provide me with a constant sense of novelty."
"Unless... you prove you have the potential to replace him."
Potential to replace Satoru Gojo? What a joke! While Cursed Spirits were born strong, becoming even stronger required a vast amount of time. By the time they reached that level, Satoru Gojo would likely have died of old age.
Wait, if it was about potential...
Jogo looked at Mahito. Mahito had the highest potential among them. Jogo didn't doubt that in a hundred years, Mahito could possess power surpassing Satoru Gojo.
After much thought, Jogo asked, "Respectable God, how should we demonstrate our potential?"
"Simple." Aomori held up a finger. "Have a battle with my subordinates. Defeat them, and you will be worthy of replacing Satoru Gojo. Time is not an issue."
As he spoke, Absol, Pidgeot, Darkrai, and Ditto (in its favorite form) all struck poses before Aomori.
"Four on four. Perfectly fair, isn't it?"
Subordinates?
Jogo saw Absol, which it already considered a handful. The others likely possessed similar strength. Defeating them would be difficult.
It hesitated and looked at Mahito. "Mahito, you are our leader. You decide."
"Hmm, this is tough." Mahito pondered for a moment, then suddenly broke into a wide smile and shouted, "I've decided, let's take them down! At worst, we'll meet again in a hundred years!"
"Fine!" Jogo's pride surged. "For the sake of reveling in the wasteland a hundred years from now... let's give it our all!"
"God, we accept the challenge!"