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28 years after the death of Himmel, the Hero
Central Lands, the Royal Capital
Horse-drawn carriages rumbled down evenly pressed cobblestone roads, passing by all manner of homes, inns, and artisan shops, magical and not, their walls composed of wattle and daub, crisscrossed with wooden beams. Windows hung open, with dangling clothes drying in the midday sun as its beams bore down on shingled roofs, while overhangs stretched over the streets provided much-needed shade to the crowds of passerby below.
The city was surrounded by stone walls manned by guards, with fortified gates providing the only entrance and exit. Yet their daunting presence was dwarfed by the magnificent castle perched atop the tallest hill within its borders, standing taller than even the great spire of a nearby cathedral. The castle was composed entirely of shaved granite and adorned with hues of azure and gold at the most prominent locations.
Whether by magic or the grit of its inhabitants, the Capital was immaculately clean and its people were welcoming and kind. Truly, this was a time of peace and prosperity, when arms could be laid down and, instead, tools of craft were taken up in their place. Threats against their lives were but a distant thought, far beyond the horizon.
That alone told Yuji Itadori this wasn’t his world.
A visit to yet another dying friend, Fumihiko Takaba, had ended with the elderly man giving him one last joke for the road.
“You need a vacation, kid.”
It was the first time in a long while that Yuji had laughed; the thought of leaving Tokyo and the world of sorcery, even for a moment, seemed just too preposterous. He continued to chuckle as he left through the lobby and out the front door, until a light appeared at his side and a truck with an ‘Isekai’ license plate rammed into him, transforming into some kind of portal that dumped him in this strange, fantasy land with no way back.
That damn Comedian Technique.
And now, Yuji found himself sitting on an old oaken bench beneath the shadow of a large tree in a public market, oblivious to the occasional resident eyeing him as he kept his face hidden in his hood’s shadow, lost in thought about what would happen without his presence.
Oh well. It didn’t matter. The number of Curses was at an all-time low, concentrated in one place, and they were so weak that none could pose much of a threat whenever they were culled by him or his remaining friends, but it left a lingering question.
What should he do now?
Yuji had no idea. For so many years, his biggest concern was Cursed Spirits, as he tried in vain to preserve the change his sensei’s sacrifice had made possible. But there were always those who couldn’t accept peace. The generation that came after his own didn’t understand those lessons, and rather than give them the opportunity to grow into themselves before an early death, his interventions left them stunted, never tested, and unable to reach their fullest potential.
Sorcerer Society had become dependent on him, with many ramifications.
At times, it was hard to believe Iori Okkotsu was the son of his senpais. The bright-eyed boy who seemed excited about everything had grown into a cynical man more reminiscent of Yuji’s own mother than either of his parents, obsessed over power that wasn’t his own.
Itadori blamed himself, but couldn’t bring himself to act against the deteriorating man out of respect for his parents. So he avoided Iori’s attempts at stalking, just as he had begun to shirk his responsibilities as a sorcerer, hoping things would work themselves out.
Maybe he was just tired.
The former vessel might look like he’s in his early twenties, but he was really pushing seventy.
Seeing no point in complaining, Yuji stood up and began exploring what was around him, wandering by merchant stalls full of spices, dragon bones, ores, and tomes. He encountered a preacher rambling on about the end times and felt oddly nostalgic for the ceaseless blur of RPGs that released every year in Japan before coming upon a well-maintained group of bronze statues placed atop a pedestal, surrounded by recently planted flowers.
A priest, a dwarf, a swordsman, and the only woman of the group, an elven mage with large, pointy ears.
Definitely an RPG.
“Hm. Not even a name to read?” Yuji asked no one in particular.
A nearby elderly woman approached, using her cane for support as she left a nearby vendor, “That’s because the King and so many others expect the Heroes who saved our world to be remembered for all time, young man. Haven’t you heard of the story of Himmel, the Hero?”
“Can’t say I have.” He answered plainly.
Seemingly content to educate the ‘next generation,’ she smiled up at him, “Care to accompany an old woman on her walk home? I’ll gladly tell you.”
Itadori had no reason to decline, and so, he picked up her bags without needing to be asked, then matched her snail-like pace as she greeted nearly everyone they walked by, learning of the legendary man’s decade-long journey to defeat the Demon King alongside his three companions before retiring in this very city, dying nearly thirty years ago, while the others remained more obscure.
The priest was Heiter, a holy man who became a bishop after their journey had ended. He retired some years ago, and no one knows if he is still around.
The dwarf was a warrior named Eisen. Like the last member of their party, Frieren the mage, he had all but vanished from the spotlight, but their long lifespans meant they were likely still kicking.
Upon arriving at her house, a humble little cottage near the corner where two walls met on the edge of town, Yuji carried the groceries into her kitchen and placed them on a small table. She appeared at his side, wrapping both hands around one of his own, shaking it in thanks, “Now, would a strapping adventurer like yourself enjoy a warm cup of tea?”
“Adventurer?” The sorcerer asked.
The woman looked perplexed, “Oh, you aren’t? I assumed that with the strange outfit, you must be one of those brave folks taking quests out there in the world, but I suppose you not knowing of Himmel explains things, and who am I to judge modern fashion? This sweater is older than you! Now, you sit right there while I make you a cup.” She jokingly demanded.
“…I guess I did something similar to that for a while, adventuring, that is,” Itadori said, quietly taking a seat at the table. “It felt like that was all there was for me, but now, for the first time in a while, I don’t have to. Without it, I’m just aimless.”
She smiled, bringing a kettle to a slow boil. “That sounds like retirement, all right. I made and sold clothes for almost fifty years, and you know what I did on my first day without a job? I knit my grandson some gloves in the middle of summer, and I loved it.” She turned to give him a glancing stare. “Did you like what you did?”
“I don’t know,” Yuji responded as a glass was set in front of him on a small plate. “Maybe at first, but it was a long time ago.”
Taking a seat across from him, she stirred some sugar into her drink. “Responsibility does that. You prove yourself as competent, and all you get is more work. Things slowly go from fun and gratifying to tiresome, back-breaking work.” She nudged him. “A piece of advice: if even a small part of you still wants to do it, then try things the way you would do them, not how others want them done.”
“…Why are you trying to help me? I just carried some bags for a little info. It’s not like you owe me anything.” The former vessel questioned, staring into his hidden reflection in the brown liquid.
She slowly sipped her tea, placing it back down, “The same reason I wanted to tell you of a great man who inspired many others.” She put a hand on his shoulder, lightly squeezing it, “It’s what Himmel the Hero would do. At your age, it’s okay to feel like there’s no direction. It’s the job of those who came before to set you nice and proper.”
“Thank you.” Yuji would say, wrapping his hands around his mug before bringing it to his lips, knowing they were likely around the same age.
She watched him for a long moment with affection, “Any time, dear.”
Eventually, the sorcerer would depart from her house as she waved him goodbye.
“How would I do things?” Yuji asked himself.
He didn’t have much of an answer, but given how long the sorcerer had been in Tokyo, something in him just knew the answer wasn’t here within these fortified walls.
It was out there, somewhere in the world.
[x]
Yuji departed with only the clothes on his back, passing the indifferent, sleeping night guards without a word. He headed through the gates and onto the open road, deciding that north was as good a direction as any. The moonlight accompanied him into the unknown.
First came the farmland that surrounded the Capital. The plowed, carefully planted fields reminded him of rural trips taken with his grandfather. Even those remote places in Japan made this world seem primitive by comparison, not that he minded.
When was the last time the ageless man had even touched a phone? His contact list had dwindled away with each funeral; it just got too depressing to look at, so he tossed the thing in a dumpster and never looked back.
After the farms came grazing pastures, then undeveloped plains, and finally, Yuji Itadori was left to his own devices, wandering the roughed-out roads without a purpose. He later settled to nap on the thick branches of one of the few trees in this otherwise open grassland.
His slumber was interrupted by a thrown acorn sailing above his head, which he caught between two fingers before his eyes could open, hearing an impressed huff below. Below him stood a somewhat well-dressed man with a groomed mustache, wearing an old suit with a pet squirrel on his shoulder, riding a cart full of wooden crates pulled by two horses.
“Hmph. Good enough reflexes. Looking for work, adventurer? I’m heading to the Turk Region to trade for this year’s harvest, and could use the assistance.”
Seeing little else in his plans but walking, he nodded. “…Sure.”
Just like that, Yuji Itadori became a hired hand, sitting beside the merchant. He felt compelled to ask, “You’re a bold guy. I could’ve been a bandit for all you know.”
“Hah! Banditry hasn’t been seen in these parts since my father’s day, and they’re more keen to conceal themselves in ditches and caves than rest out in the open. Those resting places are reserved for those with nothing to hide, my friend,” the trader answered with bravado.
Itadori didn’t respond, but he could feel the sincerity in this man’s words.
This was a world at rest.
The road drifted northeast, past a gently flowing river and into an expansive forest that stretched in all directions but south. They crossed an old stone bridge, built by some ancient empire or other, the gallop of horses filling their ears with each step.
They rode into it, the wind sweeping through lush green leaves, providing a canopy of safety to the woodland creatures that scampered about. Having little else to do, the former vessel tried to detect any possible danger with his senses extended, yet Yuji Itadori felt almost no Cursed Energy except his own.
There were no Cursed Spirits to be found here.
But apparently, that just meant doing something other than fighting.
It came as quite a surprise when they reached their destination, a humble little farming village, and the villagers asked the sorcerer to harvest the crops and load them into the wagon after unloading its cargo. They were even more surprised when he completed the entire job in just a few hours, a task that normally took multiple people days.
They tried to offer the former vessel a small sack of copper and silver coins for his efforts, but considering their humble appearances and Yuji’s utter lack of need for anything, unable to even get drunk at a local tavern, he refused, just asking if there was more work that needed to be done instead.
This warmed the locals to him greatly, and after some discussion, they came to the conclusion that he should approach the local apothecary, directing him toward a small hut down a dirt path in the forest, run by a surprisingly young witch-doctor with green hair and freckles, who led him into a small bedroom with an ailing mother resting on a bed, her two children sitting beside her as she panted in her sleep, concern riddling their faces.
“Bitten by a winged serpent, she was. They come down from their nests in the foothills and hunt birds in the trees. Every now and then, an orchard worker’s hand reaches too close, and you can assume the rest. She won’t die, but it’s very painful as the body fights it off.” The small woman said, mindlessly chewing on some medicinal herb.
Yuji eyed the fang marks on the ailing woman’s wrists. “Can you make an antivenom out of one of those snakes?”
“Of course, I can. But remember, monsters disappear once killed. You’ll need to bring it to me alive, and their nests have colonies in the hundreds.” She replied, indifferently walking away with a wave, “Best of luck, adventurer.”
The sorcerer waited for her to leave the room, then faked checking the mother’s temperature, putting a hand to her forehead, and then burned the poison out of her using the Reversed Curse Technique. Her rapid breathing and sweating calmed almost immediately, and with a nod, he departed, putting a finger to his lips and shushing her awe-stricken children into secrecy as he left.
Deciding he wanted to see these monsters for himself, Yuji moved through the town, off the roads, and into the woods, following the gently rising slopes into the wild until civilization had disappeared, marching through the trees and shrubs toward distant cliffs that rose high into the air.
Snakes like dark places, and having seen more than his share of Curses with similar traits, he spotted an opening on the rockface, several dozen meters above the ground. He hopped up and landed inside the cold, damp place, hands firmly resting in his pockets, delving deeper as the sounds of slithering masses filled his uncaring ears.
With light nearly nonexistent, a flicker of motion above was followed by the hissing howl of a creature denied its daytime slumber, and dozens, then hundreds, of glimmering red eyes shot open in unison.
They were disgusting, unsightly things. They had the elongated body of a snake, at least three feet long, covered in scales, with large, dragon-like protruding wings that flapped to keep them airborne while a fanged mouth hissed, venom dripping from their sharpened fangs.
They swarmed, spiraling around the sorcerer like a tornado of writhing flesh, and as one finally broke rank, flashing toward his neck-
The air vibrated-
The land shook-
Reality itself seemed to distort-
And within the blink of a serpent’s slitted eye-
The flesh that surrounded their ocular lenses was sliced into perfect cubes, dividing their bodies a hundredfold into perfectly symmetrical blocks of meat, sliced so immaculately that not a single drop of blood flowed for that moment as the entire colony was destroyed down to nothing, their remains disintegrating to ash.
The one charging the former vessel met a different fate, however, losing its wings, a pair of fingers clamped down around the top of its head, locking it in place as it helplessly thrashed about in a hold it had no chance of escaping.
Yuji left the cave with the monster in tow, completing yet another quest in record time, once more refusing the reward, arguing that the woman who had miraculously recovered no longer needed it.
The locals decided they liked him that much more because of it, and he found himself invited to feasts and holidays several months in advance.
He declined, asking instead where more work could be found.
The villagers obliged, and for the next few days, Yuji Itadori did all manner of tasks, but no matter what they gave him, or even made up, just to get him to stay a bit longer, he accomplished them in nearly no time at all.
Materials were gathered, creatures were slain, and structures were built. It was almost inhuman how fast he worked.
When it came to more mundane things like offered dinners, requests for his stories at the inn, or curious locals wanting to speak to him one-on-one, he either declined or said very little. His hood was always up, too, so none of them even had the faintest idea what he looked like, but he was helpful, and so they remained hopeful that one day he would accept.
Until he decided to leave.
As abruptly as he arrived, Yuji had suddenly asked the town's elders, who were mostly a collection of drinking buddies at the pub, nearly a week later, what was transpiring across the kingdom.
A rancher, who frequently spoke with travelers passing through his lands, was the one to answer, stroking his long beard in thought, speaking in a thick accent with a mouth missing more than a few teeth after breaking out a map, “From wha I ‘eard, thems folks up north still be fightin’ them remnants of that there Demon King army. Mmm-mmm. If you’s keen on gettin’ there, you’ll need to pass through that there city of Waal.”
They tried to throw him a celebratory goodbye, but the sorcerer had left as soon as he stepped outside, leaving only the memory of that strange adventurer who worked for nothing but did more than countless others who charged far more for doing much less.
[x]
Multi-headed hounds.
Carnivorous plants that walked on leg-like roots.
Even fish that flew through the clouds like water.
It was a realm straight out of fantasy, yet it just felt like more of the same.
Fire rose from a long-abandoned keep, the outer walls of a former castle having crumbled in ages past, littered with the obliterated corpses of dozens of goblins, their scattered, deteriorating limbs and lifeless heads marking a bloody path inside, down a spiraling stone staircase that led to a system of caverns lit by glimmering gems.
“GOBOBO!” A shaman would shout, pointing his makeshift staff forward as his underlings rushed into the fray, the tip beginning to glow before a single slice ran through it, down the length of his arm, and bisected his body in half as his allies met a similar fate.
Yuji didn’t care to address the fat goblin wearing a crown when he approached. A step like any other sent a spiderweb cracking through the floor, causing it and its throne of human bones to plummet to their demise to a much lower level of the cavern, leaving the sorcerer alone with a hoard of treasure.
Gold as far as the eye could see, with chests filled with fine jewelry and glimmering coins.
Crates of weapons, scrolls, and armor.
Selling any of that by itself would leave him a very rich man.
It was all so pointless.
He turned around and left, taking absolutely nothing with him.
[x]
“Hey, Yuji. You’ve gotten stronger, and you’re almost as tall as I am! When did that happen?”
“It’s your responsibility to watch out for your juniors, Itadori.”
“It’s an older brother’s duty to protect his siblings. I have no regrets.”
“Take better care of yourself, idiot.”
“I’m sure my mom knows you tried your best.”
Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Fushiguro, and even Junpei, and others. The sorcerer was surrounded on all sides in a foggy mountain pass.
He lifelessly stared at them from beneath his hood until one tried to get closer, and they were all immolated in an instant, blasting away the wind and the skeletal specters of the creatures trying to mimic those he lost.
It was a poor imitation.
He knew the real ones would all be disappointed.
Yuji just kept walking.
[x]
Waal was somewhat similar to the Capital, but with much less decor and focused entirely on being a fortress, meant to keep out whatever horrors lay to the north, to the point that, from a distance, even the buildings looked to be made of impenetrable rock, with high-rising defensive walls laden with visible archer holes on all sides.
This was the only way to the northern frontier, as the rest of the land was blocked off by a magical barrier, and not knowing if it could repair itself if he broke through, Itadori settled on walking through town. Getting in from the south was as easy as strolling through an almost unmanned gate, but the northern side was another situation entirely.
Ballistas, sentries, ramparts, and more lined the barricade, staffed by countless defenders, staring outward into the wild, just waiting for some inevitable terror to rush their positions.
“HALT!” An armored knight held out a hand, standing nearly a head taller than the former vessel, “By Royal Decree, travel to the northern frontier is prohibited until what remains of the Demon King’s forces are- HEY!”
The sorcerer paid him no mind, walking right past, and when the guard tried to block his path, threatening to imprison him, a single indifferent stare from a set of vibrant red eyes told this honed warrior a single, immutable fact when placed against whatever monstrosity had entered their city.
‘You are nothing.’
He froze in his tracks, too terrified to breathe as Yuji grabbed hold of the gate and lifted it with ease, letting it slam down behind him, leisurely walking over the bridge that crossed Waal’s defensive moat, gentle waves crashing against its sides.
It took a second for the man to recover, but as he did, he looked to his confused and equally scared compatriots above, roaring, “What are you fools doing!? FIRE!”
Drawstrings were pulled.
Bolts were set.
Projectiles launched, darkening the skies as they came crashing down onto a single humanoid target from behind and above, meeting an invisible wall that annihilated anything that dared come too close, breaking them down to fragments of wood and metal, leaving heaps of scrap in his wake.
It ended, not because their foe had died or they had run out of munitions, but because the futility of continuing had set in.
The hooded man kept walking until he was out of sight, and they could only watch, unable and unwilling to pursue.
[x]
‘Grandpa. How much longer will I feel like this?’
That was the question Yuji Itadori asked himself upon coming across his first demon.
Undead ghouls ravaged the remains of a destroyed supply carriage, chewing the skin off the dead and dying men and women who braved the wild to feed the place they called home for a few more days.
Resting on a nearby tree stump, a young man, more a boy than anything, with dull green hair, observed the wires wrapped around his hands with his deep purple eyes, holding them up in the space between the curved horns on his head. He was wearing some formal outfit or other with suspenders.
“Lemme guess. You did this ‘cause you felt like it…right?”
Draht mechanically lowered his head, feigning surprise, unaware of the hooded man standing right beside him until now. Seeing that he was observing the undead feed, the young demon went to work, giving a fake whimper, “N-No-no-no! You’re wrong! I had called for help and stayed here to make sure the creatures didn’t go anywhere!”
He swallowed, “D…did you bring anyone else?”
“No,” was the curt answer he was given.
The boy smiled, “Oh…is that so?” The wires on his hands began to stretch, and as he whipped them toward the hooded man’s unseen face, glimmering red orbs appeared at the tips of each barbed edge, bringing him genuine surprise, “That’s Lügner-”
A trail of supernovas exploded, knocking the wire back, wrapping it around the demon’s own neck. He hardly blinked before the sorcerer was behind him, pulling the threads like a cord with a single finger, severing his head from his shoulders.
Yuji sighed, letting the dissipating corpse fall without any kind of respect, “At least own up to it.”
[x]
Inside the cellar of the crumbling remains of a colosseum, headless undead groaned, standing at attention in old suits of armor, guarding each entrance. Others, meanwhile, stood at attention in rigid, line-like formations that led up to a throne illuminated by burning candles, casting shadows over a young woman’s figure.
“The preparations are made, Lady Aura,” spoke an elegantly dressed man, standing in an emotionless daze, projecting none of the feelings their kind pretended to have as he waved a hand through his long blonde hair. “We will initiate diplomatic talks with the humans in Graf Granat’s Domain and convince them to lower their defenses as a sign of common trust, as you requested. We only need to await Draht’s arrival.”
At his side stood a young girl, much shorter, wearing something similar to a tavern maid’s dress. She silently crossed one hand over the other, the simple motion sending her short-cut pink hair bobbing up and down. She looked much like an innocent young girl, too meek to speak for herself.
Crossing one leg over another, a beautiful woman appeared in the light. Her sleeveless bodice, short running skirt, and long dark boots, along with her azure eyes and braided magenta hair, were meant to entice any human she encountered. The demon waved a hand indifferently. “No, Lügner. Newborns like Draht are too hot-blooded and prone to rushing ahead to take the first bite. You will take Linie and achieve what’s been demanded of you, with or without his presence.”
“Of course.” He bowed, the facade of the handsome envoy coming into full play. “Then, we’ll be-”
“If you mean the green one-”
“He’s dead.”
It happened all at once.
The dozens of undead protecting the main entrance were thrown into the air by an unseen force and ripped to shreds, their falling remains coming down like rain as a hooded figure appeared in the center of the chamber, ignoring the wailing, ferocious growls coming from every darkened crevice around him as all eyes lay on him.
Aura leaned back in her seat, a smirk crossing her face as she rested a cheek against her outstretched hand, “Hot-blooded indeed.”
Lügner sharply exhaled, placing a hand over his chest. “Y-You said he’s dead? My brother, Draht…has perished? How?…” He stepped back. “How can this be?”
“Is this your only base, or am I gonna have to go looking once I’m done here?” Itadori replied, completely ignoring the man’s prompting, hands still in his pockets.
The blonde demon took in everything there was to see about this new arrival, but with so little to go on, he relied on his usual act, “Please, sir. We… We are on a diplomatic mission to promote peace between our peoples. Aren’t you tired of this war?”
“…Are you done-” Yuji turned, leveling the man with a stare that sent him into an immediate defensive posture, “With this?”
That simple statement spoke a million words.
No deceit or facade of normalcy would convince whatever had entered their lair to lower his guard.
Lügner’s pleading eyes and open frown receded, becoming blank as blood began to flow down from his sleeves, coating the length of his wrists and arms, “I suppose I am. Balterie.” He took flight, sending out a barrage of fluid-filled tendrils toward the former vessel, calling out, “Linie!”
“Erfassen,” her dull voice responded, flipping through the air as sheer darkness materialized into a massive battle axe, breaking through the wind as she brought it down toward the sorcerer’s head.
‘This is a bit nostalgic.’ Yuji mused to himself, casually hopping back, drifting along the stone floors, sparks billowing from around his feet, carrying him away as countless bloody spikes crashed in his wake, with more branches shooting off of one another in pursuit, and intermingled within the all-consuming horde was a small figure, who would emerge from the visceral shrubbery to strike, only to miss each and every time with the most basic of movements, done at such speeds she had no hope of keeping up.
The approaching undead were annihilated by their owners, their scattered bodies crashing into the walls, sending layers of built-up dust airborne.
Yuji rounded a support pillar, feeling the ground tremble as projectiles impacted it, and, as he wrapped around again, he flew into the air like he was gliding, meeting Linie halfway as she brought the serrated edge of her axe down toward him, her eyes dilating as she saw both her and his reflection on her weapon’s polished surface. However, their apparitions drifted upward, as did her tool of war-
And it was then she realized that her arms were missing, severed at the shoulders, hands still clenched around her axe’s grip.
The surprise didn’t last. The hooded man grabbed her by the face and threw her like a javelin toward Lügner, who had no qualms about blasting straight through her, but before he could, the sound of clasping palms echoed into his ears, and an arrowhead of blood erupted through her chest and into his own, tearing through his innards and out his back, with countless others blasting out in each direction, impaling whatever undead remained in their vicinity, exploding in concussive bursts that tore them apart.
Blood and bile erupted from the blonde demon’s mouth as he met the same fate, watching his ally dissipate, he was left staring at the sorcerer, surrounded by spiraling spheres of red liquid, “Y-You?… You’re like…me?”
“Something like that,” Yuji said in response.
Lügner scoffed, looking down before his eyes burned away, “Honestly. I despise geniuses like you...”
“Anyone looks like a genius after enough time.” The former vessel said with utter monotone.
Do the same thing, day in, day out, you’re bound to get good at it eventually.
A giggle emanated from the throne, “And what would you call enough time, human? I’d wager that I waited your entire lifetime to take the Granat family down.” The leader of the demons rose, sauntering down a few steps toward the sorcerer, “My five-hundred years on this planet will make whatever number you say seem oh so small, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Time doesn’t make a difference if your goals aren’t achieved anyway. What’s your five-hundred years to the five minutes it took me to take everything from you?” Yuji said, remaining in place, asking, “What would you even do after killing those people? Kill more?”
She nodded as if it were the most basic of facts, “Of course. I’m Aura the Guillotine, one of the Demon King’s own Seven Sages of Destruction. Killing every last man, woman, and child has always been our objective. That human territory just happens to be in the way. Removing the riff-raff is an inconvenience at most. I can always find more demons, just like I can slaughter more of your kind on a whim.”
“’Without a second thought,’ huh?” The former vessel shook his head, “You’ve lived that long a life, and you still can’t see that the world doesn’t need any more dreamers.”
The beautiful demon smiled, raising a golden scale with a gloved hand, bringing it to an imbalance, “Don’t you get it? We’re entering a contest of wills, and you’ve exposed that you have none to spare.”
“Hm?” Yuji looked down, feeling an ethereal hand reach into his person, “Aiming for my soul, are you?”
Aura giggled, a burning black sphere emerging from her chest, resting on the left side of her device, “I couldn’t help but notice, you have no mana to speak of. Something else powers those spells of yours, but the Scales of Obedience only weigh the former when looking at our souls. You’ll belong to me, soon enough, and we’ll rebuild what was lost, just like before.”
“I wouldn’t try that,” Yuji replied, not even bothering to fight back.
Aura flared her mana, forcing the matter, “We’ll see about th-”
In that instance, reality shifted.
No longer were they tucked away beneath the ruins of the Demon King’s Empire-
But instead, they were standing in the midst of a snowy field, a peaceful calm washing over the land as snowflakes fell from the skies above.
“You’ve done it, now,” Yuji said, sitting on a rock protruding from the snow.
Aura looked around, watching her breath come out as steam, “This is…magic? But I can’t sense any mana? Has humanity come this far? To replicate an entire environment while suppressing their reserves? No... This isn't a spell cast with mana. This is different."
“I dunno about all that, but you went and entered my Innate Domain when I warned you not to,” the former vessel yawned, “I could kill you with a thought, but I’ll be fair and give you a chance. This place makes you answer honestly, so don’t go and lie. I’ll know if you do.”
“If I let you live, would you stop all this?” Itadori asked.
Aura confidently grinned, raising a scale that was no longer in her hands, “No. I wouldn-”
A single slice tore her head in half, ending the illusion in an instant.
In the real world, Aura’s headless body fell to its knees before crashing into the ground, blood erupting from the stump of her neck and jaw while she dissolved into dark mana, her magical tool clattering until it stopped moving.
“I’ll be taking this. Hope you don’t mind,” Itadori said, picking up the inactive Scales of Obedience. Figuring they might provide some new insights into souls, he pocketed the device for later study and was on his way.
At best, he could add to Tsukumo’s notes, or at the least, destroy or eat this thing to take it off the board like any other Cursed Tool.
Part of him considered telling that family they were safe, but he reasoned they’d get the message when the attacks stopped, and he didn’t want to deal with so many people at once. They might offer him a statue like that of Himmel the Hero, and the last thing Yuji Itadori wanted was to be remembered.
[x]
Standing on the shores of the Gulf of Granat, the former vessel examined the Scales in the moonlight and came to a simple conclusion: understanding mana was like trying to read in a language you didn’t know. Pictures gave you the gist, but not the meat of the matter. The thing shaped like a heart could read your own, but how it did that without an imbued Technique? Who knows.
Whatever. This was more of a passing thought anyway. He let the magical object dangle in his grasp, beginning to make his way off to wherever he decided to wander. But a faint flicker of emotion close by brought him to a stop.
Fear.
If he weren’t a Death Painting, Yuji might not have even noticed it, given how watered-down negative feelings were in this world compared to his own…like faint scents on a morning walk compared to the dump-truck of emotional bile present in Tokyo alone.
Was he being followed?
Oh well. At least checking it out gave him something to do.
[x]
“Miss Frieren…if it’s really a demon, you’ll kill it, right?” A young man with red-and-black hair asked as he passed through the forest brush.
A robed girl around the same age blankly responded, methodically dodging the bristles and branches that threatened her long purple hair, “Mister Stark, perhaps you should apologize for calling her an ‘old hag.’”
“You’ll never let me forget that one, huh?” He replied, sadly hanging his head.
Ahead of both of them, a pale elven mage hummed indifferently, “I’d rather avoid the trouble if possible, but Fern would get angry if we didn’t at least look.”
Said grape-girl pouted, and it made Stark jump. ‘Scary!’
After a bit, Fern dully noted, “It’s concerning. From how Miss Frieren described demons, retreat would not be an option unless they were losing, but the war was an active stalemate. If Aura is really such a threat, why is her mana getting weaker? I almost can’t sense-”
“Kids are always so curious compared to us older folk,” An unknown voice said from behind.
They whirled around, seeing a hooded man no more than a few feet away from the two teens, but his focus was entirely on the elf, “Right…Frieren?”
The clang of steel was met with the vibrant burn of magic as the younger members of the trio drew their weapons, yet another axe and a wooden staff.
Fern remained passive, aiming the tip of her weapon at the man’s chest, “Don’t move.” She took note that not once had his hands even tried to leave his pockets, “You know my Master? How?”
“There’s a statue of her in every town,” was his answer, blunt and to the point.
That was…fair.
Stark, meanwhile, was shaking, no…he was trembling, the sensation running far beyond his hands and down every inch of his body. He had felt afraid before, but there was something about this guy-
It was his stare.
No emotion. No feeling. Just glimmering dots of red over the silhouette of a face, watching him in the dead of night like some horror story. It took everything he had just to remain standing.
“What do you want?” The hooded man asked.
Stark swallowed, “Y…You’re the one who snuck up on us. What do you want?”
“To know why you’re following me,” came yet another blunt response.
That was…also fair.
This time, it was Frieren who spoke, “We weren’t following you, but that scale attached to your waist.” She briefly eyed the glimmering magical tool, “That belongs to Aura the Guillotine. Why do you have it?”
“’Cause I killed her and took it.” He said in the exact same monotone.
Both Fern and Stark tensed, waiting for the elven woman’s response, but in a near identical fashion to the sorcerer, Frieren blinked, “Oh. Alright then.”
Stark blinked, “Huh?…just…alright then?”
She stared at him indifferently, “Graf Granat wanted her defeated, and she is.” Pivoting back to the former vessel, she asked, “Are you planning to collect the reward?”
“Miss Frieren…” Fern disapprovingly said, knowing where this was going.
“No.” Was all the hooded man answered.
The ancient mage gained the faintest of smiles, “Then you wouldn’t mind accepting the Grimoire and giving it to me, right? In exchange, I’ll show you the great magic it’s hiding.”
“Just tell ‘em I said you could have it.” He said, turning to leave, apparently having lost interest in the conversation.
As the leaves crunched beneath him, she asked, “Are you busy with some task?”
“Not really.” Was his reply.
Frieren blankly watched his retreating form, “Then, why don’t you just come with? It’ll save the trouble of explaining.”
He stopped moving, and they could see his mouth slightly ajar, yet no words came out.
[x]
The next morning [noon in Frieren terms], Fern and Stark shared an incredulous look, following their resident elf as she groggily skipped, sing-songing her excitement about her next grimoire, and trailing behind her was the mystery man from last night.
Apparently, his name was Yuji.