One minute passed.
Five minutes passed.
The two girls in the Combat Arena remained in their respective positions. Neither moved first.
Utahime's Solitary Zone had long since fully expanded, its invisible field enveloping the space several meters around her. Her cursed energy flowed much more smoothly than usual, and her maximum output had increased, but her expression showed no sign of relaxing.
Because across from her, the sphere in Kogi Rin's palm was still changing.
No-it shouldn't have been called a "sphere" anymore.
Over the past few minutes, it had slowly extended, stretched, and twisted from a fist-sized sphere into an indescribable, pitch-black, constantly writhing mass. It contracted and swelled by turns, like a living creature breathing, or a pot of boiling tar bubbling away.
Utahime couldn't stop breaking into a cold sweat.
This isn't right.
She had certainly seen the Construction Technique before. At previous Goodwill Events, in mission briefings, in Kyoto Jujutsu High's intelligence reports-she had seen all sorts of constructs. Weapons, armor, tools, traps... without exception, they were quick to form, simple in structure, and highly practical.
She had never seen a Construction Technique user spend nearly five minutes still shaping a single thing.
Just how complicated is this thing?
Countless thoughts flashed through Utahime's mind, each one sending a chill down her back.
Seriously, girl, what are you making?
She stared at the ever-changing black mass, the corner of her mouth twitching.
It's been this long and you're still not done. Are you making a missile over there?
The more she thought about it, the more panicked she became.
Take it up with the person responsible—that White-Haired Jerk is the one who slapped your schoolmate out of the ring and embarrassed your school! Not me! Go get revenge on him! Don't come after me!
She cursed