Lin Mu's fingers twitched slightly. Now he understood why Fushimi Takumi thought the nickname Umekawa Kuko had given him was so fitting.
His own title was no better.
But this also confirmed Lin Mu's suspicion. This ritual really was connected to Prince Sawara.
Fushimi Takumi was very likely Prince Sawara's descendant.
"The ritual has just been completed. His Highness still needs to sleep for a while. During that time, we'll entertain you properly."
"Move!"
Fushimi Takumi gave a light wave of his hand, and the seven black-robed figures behind him shot forward.
As for the one conspicuously missing, it had to be the black-robed man sacrificed that night.
He was Grade One. At present, only two people here were stronger than him: the leading black-robed figure and Fushimi Takumi.
Suddenly, the space around him seemed to solidify in an instant. No matter how Lin Mu struggled, he could not break free.
"Well? This is the power of the prince's bloodline—space-based cursed technique!"
"In the ancient times you know nothing about, space-based cursed techniques were supreme techniques capable of standing alongside the King of Curses!"
Fushimi Takumi slowly walked up to the immobile Lin Mu. The space in his palm constantly twisted and warped.
At times, it became a portal; at others, it transformed into a sharp blade.
"I know you're strong, but under this space-based cursed technique, which can suppress even the flow of cursed energy, there's no way you can use your technique."
"You're just an ordinary person now."
Lin Mu raised an eyebrow slightly, though the spatial suppression prevented him from completing the motion.
So, Fushimi Takumi had been treated as an ordinary person all these years because his space-based cursed technique suppressed his cursed energy.
That was why, on the surface, he appeared no different from a