Several people gathered at Training Field No. 5.
Despite nearly being killed by Toji Fushiguro during the Star Plasma Vessel incident, Satoru Gojo survived—while Toji was pushed to the brink of death by Sōjun Minamoto.
But all of that happened under very specific circumstances.
Toji Fushiguro, known as the Sorcerer Killer, specialized in taking down sorcerers. However, Sōjun Minamoto was an unconventional sorcerer, a bit of a natural counter to someone like Toji.
Now, Sōjun Minamoto and Satoru Gojo stood face-to-face at the center of the field.
Gojo began stretching, while Sōjun had already gathered his momentum, fully ready for battle.
He extended his hand. Shiko Mishima stepped forward and handed him the Scythe of Damnation before retreating to a fixed distance behind him.
Suguru Geto and Shoko Ieiri stood not far behind Gojo.
Sōjun slowly ran his hand along the scythe's long handle, as if stroking a piece of smooth jade. It had a satisfying feel.
He spun the scythe halfway, then held it inverted before his chest, the blade pointing outward.
The war scythe was made for sweeping attacks with powerful slashing force. As a long weapon, positioning was crucial—not just in front, but to the sides as well.
Sōjun casually positioned himself at a diagonal angle to Gojo.
His mind was already analyzing:
While Gojo's Cursed Energy wasn't infinite, he had the Six Eyes, allowing him to control his energy with such precision that technique consumption was practically zero—essentially granting him limitless Cursed Energy.
That meant a prolonged battle was off the table.
Gojo's technique created an untouchable zone around him. It might look like you could hit him, but in reality, your attack was separated by an infinite gap—a cosmic void at his fingertips.
The key was to land a hit first.
Maybe...
Sōjun suddenly lunged at Gojo, slashing upward on a diagonal. As expected, the blade felt like it had struck an invisible quagmire, slowing rapidly.
He wasn't surprised—it was exactly what he anticipated. He twisted his body into a follow-up slash, sparks flying from the motion.
Their bodies passed by each other.
In just a few seconds, Sōjun had already thrown out several strikes, though each was only at 40% of his full strength.
Gojo didn't counterattack. He just stood there, observing Sōjun's movements. If his opponent couldn't even touch him, then there was no point in calling it a fight.
Though he had long understood how powerful the Limitless Technique combined with Six Eyes was, actually facing it made him realize he still wasn't taking it seriously enough.
After that brief exchange, Sōjun felt the pressure.
He held his scythe upright, still and focused. His opponent was the strongest in the Jujutsu world—he needed to bring out the real stuff.
Otherwise...
How was he supposed to put on a proper demonstration for Shiko Mishima... huh?
His blood surged, breath turning hot as it escaped his lungs. The sound of his inner engine roared, warping the air around him and plunging everything into a strange rhythm.
His figure flickered, charging at Gojo with overwhelming force. The blade accelerated—faster, faster—wind pressure bending the grass and trees, sand and stones lifting into the air, the sheer momentum becoming deafening.
Still, not a single strike landed. Gojo's technique blocked every one of them.
Faster. He had to be faster—so fast that even the technique couldn't react in time.
Now!
With a twisted grin, Sōjun ramped his power to 70% and swung out a wide, sweeping strike.
Boom—
Gojo raised a hand, conjuring a glowing azure orb between the blade and his body to absorb the blow head-on.
"Hiss~"
The impact neutralized both sides, and Sōjun Minamoto rubbed his temples.
The hit had definitely landed.
Even though his physical body was well protected, he hadn't defended his soul—and he could still feel the force of that slash.
Satoru Gojo grinned.
"Oh? So you kept probing the limits of my technique's defense. Once you found the threshold of its reaction speed, you used a normal slash to bait me, then followed up with a more powerful one to actually land a hit?"
He looked up at Sōjun Minamoto and couldn't help but praise him.
"Your combat instincts are sharp."
"If that's all your technique can do, then I only need two strikes to hit you every time," Sōjun Minamoto said with a relaxed smile, not the least bit winded.
"There's no way it's that simple. I just need to focus a little, and I can adjust the response limit of my technique on the fly," Gojo replied, holding his thumb and index finger in the air to demonstrate. "That limit is constantly shifting. So, how are you planning to hit me next?"
"My reaction speed is above yours. No matter how you change it, all it means is I need one more attack. The first two test the waters, and the third lands the blow." Sōjun Minamoto waved his hand. "Come on, Gojo. Show me what you've got."
"Otherwise..."
Before he could finish, his figure blurred and vanished—he closed the distance in an instant. The scythe swept out again, forcing Gojo back.
The speed was so fast that to the three onlookers, it looked like a single slash. In reality, he'd swung three times.
"...otherwise, when you get hurt, don't come crying for comfort."
Ha! Ha! Ha!
With a wild grin, Sōjun Minamoto ran a hand along the blade. The edge shimmered, now stained crimson.
He had activated his Cursed Technique: Lapse.
Almost simultaneously, the Scythe of Damnation was raised high again.
Hiss—hiss—
A slash cut through the air, grazing the side of Gojo's neck.
Crimson clashed with Cursed Blue. In the next moment, the blade spun effortlessly around Gojo's neck—shattering the Blue barrier.
A jolt ran through Gojo. Every instinct screamed—don't let that Crimson touch you...
He crouched low to dodge and pushed off, retreating several steps. At the same time, he raised two fingers toward Sōjun Minamoto.
A sphere of Cursed Blue shot out, cutting off Sōjun's follow-up strike.
Sōjun Minamoto sliced cleanly through the light orb with a sweep of his blade.
Boom—Boom—
Twin explosions rang out behind him.
But Sōjun had already closed in again. The blade tip arced high, stabbing straight toward Gojo's head...
Sōjun Minamoto, the master of rhythm! He had a talent for controlling the flow of battle.
That was something all ten of his coaches had agreed on.
Satoru Gojo could keep the reaction limit of his technique in constant flux, making it unpredictable.
In turn, Sōjun Minamoto could bury his true attack behind the third, fourth, or even fifth strike—never placing it in the same spot.
It became a game of feints and mind games, both falling into a battle of wits.
And this was precisely Sōjun Minamoto's domain.
At this point, Gojo had already been pulled into a contest of pure reflexes—and when it came to that...
Sōjun had the upper hand.
He casually tossed the Scythe of Damnation back to Shiko Mishima and let out a long breath of visible heat.
He was getting fired up.
Sōjun stomped down, cracking the ground beneath him like a spiderweb as he charged at Gojo.
A sphere of Cursed Blue hurtled toward him.
He curled his right hand into a claw, Crimson energy flickering between his fingers. As it met the Blue orb, the colors clashed—until the Blue was overtaken and dissolved into his palm.
Cursed Energy Assimilation!
Even before the process was done, another Blue orb came flying. He raised his left arm, muscles hardening in an instant to take the impact.
His body skidded back several steps, the skin on his arm scorched black.
But in the next moment, a flash of blue surged—and the injury was gone.
Sōjun Minamoto didn't seem to care.
The energy he used and the energy he absorbed had nearly balanced out.
Which meant... he could go even harder!
...
Unfortunately, neither of them went all out. It was just an exchange of techniques, nothing close to a real fight. No trump cards, no devastating moves.
Gojo clutched his head, feeling a splitting headache coming on.
He couldn't see souls, so the Reverse Cursed Technique he mastered couldn't heal his soul either.
It was Sōjun Minamoto who helped relieve the discomfort.
Gojo picked up the Scythe of Damnation. It felt heavy in his hand. He twirled it a few times, but it just didn't sit right—completely awkward.
He tossed it back to Sōjun Minamoto.
"So this is what hurts that bad? Doesn't feel all that special."
Sōjun chuckled and handed the scythe to Shiko Mishima.
"This thing recognizes its owner. If anyone else tries to use it, they won't be able to wield it properly—unless they're the one it's bound to."
He was, of course, the exception. He'd forged it himself.
That function existed to prevent enemies from turning a powerful cursed tool against them. The stronger the tool, the more dangerous it would be in enemy hands.
Shiko Mishima, showing off a little, shrank the Scythe of Damnation and hooked it onto her earlobe like an accessory.
The others couldn't help but stare in amazement.
It wasn't hard to do, really—just that most smiths never thought of it.
"Oh, right. Shoko was looking for you," Gojo finally said, revealing the reason he came.
He stepped aside, making way for Shoko Ieiri, who had been standing behind him.