Sukuna stood in the center of the arena and briefly closed his eyes.
Nearly a thousand cursed techniques flowed slowly through his meridians without the slightest obstruction, as though they had been born into this body.
A long-lost sense of power surged through him. He had not savored such an enormous improvement in who knew how many years.
"How does it feel, Lord Sukuna?" Kenjaku stood in the stands, smiling with his arms folded, as though he had anticipated the result.
An arrogant smile curled Sukuna's lips. This body's compatibility was even better than he had expected.
He pondered for a moment, then looked up toward the highest tier of the stands and called, "Uraume."
Uraume immediately hurried over, the hem of her clothes brushing the rubble on the steps, and bowed to await his orders.
When she heard that Lord Sukuna wanted Ice Formation, her whole body trembled. Then intense reverence and joy welled up in her eyes, as though the moment to offer herself had finally arrived.
"It is my honor to be of use to Lord Sukuna."
Her voice was soft, yet utterly resolute.
Without the slightest hesitation, she raised her hand and formed a cursed blade. Cold light flashed, and she severed her left arm at the shoulder.
Blood instantly stained her miko garb red, dripping from her fingertips and spreading into dark flowers on the ground.
Her face was deathly pale, and beads of sweat seeped from her temples, but she gritted her teeth without making a sound. Steadily supporting the arm that held Ice Formation, she presented it to Sukuna.
Watching blood gush from her severed shoulder, Sukuna frowned slightly and said quietly:
"There was no need to do that."
He ignored the severed arm and instead took two steps forward to Uraume's side.