Mere mortals

"Fenghua."

Kashimo's voice carried through the howling wind, as calm as if he were standing on solid ground.

"The Ruyi Staff."

Fenghua did not hesitate.

She did not even ask why, or how she should throw it. In free fall, she twisted her body with all her strength, pulled the emerald-green staff from her back, and hurled it toward Kashimo.

The staff traced an arc through the blood-red space, flying straight toward the figure in white with blue-green hair.

Kashimo reached out and caught it.

"Kenjaku."

He held the Ruyi Staff, his gaze sweeping over the monsters poised to attack.

"I need you to create a barrier sphere strong enough to protect you and Fenghua."

Kenjaku raised an eyebrow.

He glanced at the monsters packed densely over the lumps of flesh, then at the bottomless crimson abyss below, and made a quick calculation.

"I can," he said, "but with this many monsters attacking-"

He paused.

"I can only hold out for seven minutes."

Kashimo slowly infused the Ruyi Staff with an electrical charge while tightening his other hand around the Soul-Devouring Blade again. The blade gleamed with a dark chill in the bloody light.

"That's enough."

Kenjaku said nothing more.

He brought his hands together and began forming seals. The gestures were intricate and ancient, his fingers shifting rapidly as faint ripples of cursed energy gathered around him. His lips moved slightly, and a low, obscure incantation slipped between his teeth.

"Born of evil and defilement-"

As the first phrase fell, the cursed energy around him began expanding outward, forming a faint outline.

"Approach not my flesh-"

The second phrase. The outline grew clearer, like a transparent membrane slowly taking shape.

"Calamity Seal."

The instant the final phrase fell, a translucent spherical barrier sprang open, enveloping Kenjaku and the still-screaming Fenghua.

The barrier looked fragile, yet it radiated ancient, weighty pulses of cursed energy.

Calamity Seal.

An ancient defensive Barrier Technique from the Heian era. It had originally been created to keep Buddhist disciples alive amid surrounding demons, but over time, it had gradually evolved into Barrier Techniques like Hollow Wicker Basket, designed specifically to counter domains.

As sorcerers' fighting styles changed, this purely defensive barrier had also been abandoned entirely.

Now, perhaps only Kenjaku and Tengen still knew how to use it.

Inside the barrier, Fenghua finally stopped screaming. She gulped down air, still shaken, and stared at the blue-green-haired figure receding farther and farther outside.

Outside the barrier.

Kashimo continued falling, the Soul-Devouring Blade in his hand.

Countless monsters fixed their eyes on him.

His eyes were closed.

The blade pointed downward.

He waited for the instant he landed.

Suddenly, Kashimo moved.

With a flick of his wrist, the Ruyi Staff shot from his hand, plunging straight into the bottomless crimson abyss below. It left an emerald-green trail through the air and vanished from sight in an instant.

A second later, he disappeared into thin air.

Boom!

A deafening crash erupted from the bottom.

The Ruyi Staff, infused with cursed energy, slammed into the flesh below like a meteor striking the earth. Flesh splattered and shattered bones flew as a massive crater blasted open at the bottom. The monsters gathered on the lowest level had no time to react before the impact crushed them into pulp, without even a chance to scream.

Blood surged up like a fountain, spraying through the blood-red space.

And Kashimo had already reappeared at the bottom.

He stood in the center of the crater, twitching lumps of flesh and scattered severed limbs beneath his feet. He held the Soul-Devouring Blade horizontally before him, its edge glinting with a cold black light in the crimson glow.

Overhead, the monsters on the fleshy walls froze for an instant.

Then they moved.

They surged toward him like a tide.

Packed together.

Blotting out everything.

Countless greedy eyes, countless hideous faces, countless outstretched claws rushed from every direction, descending upon the blue-green-haired figure in white at the center of the crater.

Kashimo lifted his head.

He drew a deep breath.

His leg muscles suddenly tightened. Cursed energy surged into his legs like an electric current and burst beneath his feet.

Then-

He charged.

Blade first, his body following, the blue-green-and-white figure struck the oncoming tide of monsters head-on like a bolt of lightning.

His first slash sent three heads flying.

His second swept sideways, severing five bodies at the waist.

His third cleaved downward, turning seven or eight monsters into splattering flesh beneath its edge.

Blood splashed across his face. He did not even blink.

The Soul-Devouring Blade became a blur in Kashimo's hand.

Wherever the blade flashed, bloody mist erupted and limbs flew. Named demon generals and nameless foot soldiers made no difference beneath his blade; all it took was one slash. Heads rolled and bodies broke. The monsters that had stared greedily at him moments earlier were now chunks of corpses strewn across the ground, piling into a small mountain beneath his feet.

He did not have Sukuna's devastating, wide-ranging slashes.

Nor did he have Satoru Gojo's Cursed Technique for clearing the battlefield.

But fighting many alone-

Was not necessarily beyond him.

Suddenly, he stopped.

The electrical arcs around him exploded at that instant. Blue-white light poured from his body, leaping and bursting wildly around him. The sharp crackling merged into deafening thunder. The light was so blinding that it briefly illuminated the entire blood-red space.

Cursed energy far greater and more terrifying than that of the original Hajime Kashimo surged from his body like a tide.

The sheer pressure made every monster around him falter.

Kashimo raised his head, his gaze piercing through layer upon layer of monstrous figures to settle ahead.

There, at the center of the gathered monsters.

An enormous figure sat upon a throne of flesh. His skin was scarlet, his face a hideous demon's visage, and a sake gourd hung at his waist. Cursed energy so dense it had almost become tangible coiled around him.

Shuten-dōji.

The corners of Kashimo's mouth slowly curled upward.

"A bunch of..."

He spoke quietly, yet his voice reached every monster's ears with perfect clarity.

"Mere mortals."