Combat training

Rain poured down in torrents, and layers of dark clouds completely swallowed the dim daylight.

The water splashing onto the muddy training field did not seep into the ground. Instead, as though given life, it defied gravity and wound its way upward through the air.

The streams rapidly gathered and took shape, forming identical bodies.

Countless copies of Feng in dark uniforms rose through the curtain of rain, crowding every blind spot around Satoru Gojo.

The joints of every body loosened beneath the washing rain.

In perfect unison, they lowered their centers of gravity and gripped their elegantly curved swords-replicas of Mikazuki Munechika-with both hands.

Hundreds upon thousands of cold blades reflected a chilling gleam in the gloomy rain, like a pack of wolves silently watching the prey at the center of their encirclement, ready to pounce.

Behind his lenses, Satoru Gojo's azure eyes swept swiftly across the water clones.

The terrifying analytical power of his Six Eyes worked at full speed, trying to find a weakness in this mass of uniform cursed energy.

"You've completely assimilated the texture of your cursed energy into the environment within your domain, using the rain to multiply endlessly.

Here, every one of you is an illusion, but any of you can become a real killing blow at a moment's notice."

The sphere of cursed energy at his fingertip, already compressed to its limit, gave an unstable hum. The surrounding rain was ripped apart by its terrifying gravitational pull before it could even get close.

"A pretty good diversion. Now that Limitless has been neutralized, using numbers and cursed tools to make up for your close-combat shortcomings is a levelheaded decision. But-"

Satoru Gojo's smile abruptly vanished, and cold battle lust flared in his blue eyes. He slammed the sphere at his fingertip toward the ground before him.

"You can only build a tower out of sand if the wind doesn't scatter it! Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue!"

The air gave a piercing shriek.

A visible gravitational singularity erupted at the center of the encirclement.

Like a miniature black hole, its violent suction dragged the surrounding rain, turf, and a dozen sword-wielding clones who failed to dodge straight into its center.

Under that overwhelming gravitational pull, the bodies of water twisted violently and shattered into harmless spray.

But the remaining clones did not retreat.

With dull splashes as they stamped through the mud, the nearest figures sprang into action.

Their blades wove an impenetrable, icy net, slashing viciously toward Satoru Gojo's vital points from four directions.

Amid the aftershocks of the gravitational eruption, Satoru Gojo abruptly ducked, avoiding a blade aimed at the side of his neck by a hair's breadth.

He raised his right leg, reinforced it with a thick layer of cursed energy, and swept it into a clone's chest like a heavy hammer.

Bam!

With a dull impact, the clone burst apart in midair, scattering into rainwater.

But in the instant after he had spent his momentum, before he could gather it again, another cold blade silently cut through the rain, heading straight for his ribs.

Satoru Gojo frowned slightly and had to wrench his waist around to evade it. The blade skimmed the hem of his shirt.

The faint sound of tearing fabric was barely audible in the rain. Yet a small, strangely crescent-shaped wound appeared on his flank.

It did not bleed immediately. Instead, a strange fluctuation of cursed energy rippled along its edges, as though something alive were trying to tear through his muscle fibers and spread swiftly toward the organs deeper within.

Satoru Gojo immediately slid backward to create distance, and the pure white light of Reverse Cursed Technique flared at his waist.

Positive energy brutally scoured away the cursed energy trying to spread, forcibly closing the crescent-shaped wound.

He glanced down at his torn shirt. Rain ran from his drenched white hair into the back of his collar, bringing a distinctly real chill.

Without Limitless's automatic defense, the tangible sensation of blows landing against flesh, of even being grazed by a sharp blade, brought the warrior's blood within him to a full boil.

"You've made that sword pretty dangerous. Anyone who doesn't know Reverse Cursed Technique would be worn down to death in this rain, even from a little scratch."

Satoru Gojo shook the droplets from the backs of his hands and slammed his fists together before him with a deafening crack.

Rather than staying put and passively defending, he charged straight into the dense flash of blades, meeting the sword-wielding figures as they rushed him again.

"But all I have to do is smash every source before the wounds can spread!"

The gap in cursed energy efficiency is too great. Even with the domain's advantage suppressing Satoru Gojo's cursed energy, and the rain's spreading damage added on top, the wounds I'm leaving are still far too shallow...

As Feng considered this, he kept rapidly transferring his consciousness and true body through the rain.

His Heavenly Restriction was itself constructed through the effects of a sorcerer's technique, so which physical body belonged to him did not actually matter.

Thus, every clone was both a clone and Feng's true body.

And thanks to the domain's sure-hit effect, every Mikazuki Munechika could unleash the same power as the original.

The howl of the downpour nearly drowned out the dull sounds of blades tearing through flesh.

Water Clones lunged from every direction, their swords forming a dense, silvery net.

Satoru Gojo darted through the flashing blades, his afterimages mingling with the flying spray. Yet the domain's sure-hit rule forcibly corrected the blades' trajectories.

Three dark red lines of blood bloomed without warning across Satoru Gojo's shoulder, flank, and cheek.

Before the blood could run down with the rain, dazzling white light erupted from deep within the wounds.

Reverse Cursed Technique brutally crushed the crescent-shaped cursed residue trying to spread.

His flesh healed in the blink of an eye, leaving not even a scar.

Using the momentum of his turn, Satoru Gojo slammed a whip kick into the neck of a clone beside him, blasting him into a cloud of mist.

Feng stood motionless in the rain ten paces away. His gaze remained fixed on the center of the battle as he observed every move Satoru Gojo made amid the flashing blades.

With a shift of his intent, the surroundings underwent another drastic change.

The raindrops within five meters of Satoru Gojo abruptly froze in place. Under the pressure of cursed energy, the soft droplets stretched into thousands of sharp Water Blades.

The Water Blades tore through the air, their sure-hit lock driving them like a swarm of bees to shred the white-haired sorcerer at the center from every direction.

Satoru Gojo did not recklessly underestimate them.

He swiftly tightened his defenses and clapped his palms together before him.

A tangible blue shock wave of cursed energy erupted outward from him, shattering the first wave of approaching Water Blades.

But the rain was endless. The shattered spray reformed in midair and continued to hound every opening in his defenses.

"You've applied the domain's sure-hit effect directly to natural rainfall, cutting out even the time it takes to swing a sword.

You really know how to make the most of what you've got."

Satoru Gojo reinforced the surface of his body with cursed energy to withstand the scattered blades that slipped through while keeping up his rapid movement to evade the denser attacks.

His azure eyes swiftly scanned the tightly packed Water Blades, searching for the cursed energy nodes that kept the domain running.

"But manipulating the environment at this density while tracking targets with a sure-hit effect must consume an astronomical amount of cursed energy.

A pure battle of attrition doesn't favor you either. How much longer can your reserves hold out?"

Water Blades sliced through his sleeves, leaving small cuts across his arms that healed almost instantly.

Satoru Gojo had no intention of passively taking a beating. He crossed his fingers before him, and a terrifying heat that brought the surrounding moisture to a furious boil began gathering at his fingertips.

A dazzling dark red light flared in the downpour-the opening move of Cursed Technique Reversal.

"If this whole curtain of rain is your weapon, then all I have to do is vaporize this space, water and all, before it can reform."

The red sphere of cursed energy swelled wildly at Satoru Gojo's fingertips. The surrounding rain vaporized before it could approach, and great clouds of white steam rose with a shrill hiss.

Through the steam, Satoru Gojo locked onto Feng's position, his lips spreading into a dangerous grin.

A violent repulsive force stood poised to erupt, ready at any moment to tear this domain of water apart.