If you're prepared, there's no need to panic when the time comes.
Sōjun Minamoto had long been ready for the concept of a Cursed Form.
If his body symbolized the pinnacle of violent offense, then his Cursed Energy embodied unpredictability and strangeness. He had discovered early on that he possessed a strange aura that easily influenced the emotions of others. Later, he learned to suppress it under control.
This was the outward manifestation of Perfect Control over Cursed Energy—just as his physical self neared perfection and his soul reached a state of harmony, his Cursed Energy also developed its own external traits.
If emotions were stirred recklessly, the effect would only be magnified.
Now, he planned to take that amplified influence and construct a pure Cursed Form made entirely of Cursed Energy. What kind of effect it would have, even he couldn't predict.
But that was fine—he'd know once it was created.
Sōjun Minamoto lounged lazily on the throne within the Shrine Domain.
Ever since he had been clearly targeted, he preferred staying inside the Domain. It was quiet here, and the environment bent to his will—if he wanted the sun, it rose; if he declared it day, night would reverse; the seasons cycled at his whim, and the temperature shifted with his thoughts...
Outside, most matters could be delegated to the Fly Head and other specialized clones.
His three clones served distinct roles: one remained in the Medical Department, indispensable as a primary source of Cursed Energy; another managed contact with the outside world, handling daily tasks; the third occasionally substituted for Noriyuki Zenin and split off to keep the elderly company or play in the band.
Three was the perfect number—not too many, not too few.
Sōjun Minamoto propped an elbow on the throne's armrest and rested his head on his hand, watching as his various clones bustled about, each engaged in their own tasks.
A few were already fast asleep, clearly having entered the dream realm to train on another level.
Some practiced Taijutsu, others refined Cursed Energy or developed new techniques—each contributing in their own way.
Even Mahoraga had been summoned, currently sparring with one of his clones to mutually enhance their physical capabilities.
His body had yet to hit its limits, and he intended to find them.
As for the soul, it likely had no such limit.
He was in high spirits—there were still many paths to power. So long as he remained within the Domain, the balance mechanism couldn't touch him.
Strictly speaking, this Domain belonged to the Aragami.
Pulling his thoughts back, Sōjun Minamoto calmed his mind, sat upright, and began preparations to forge the Cursed Form.
The throne behind him endlessly channeled curses.
He absorbed them just as endlessly, turning them into his own and compressing the Cursed Energy inside his body.
Originally vast and gaseous, his Cursed Energy began to condense into a liquid form. As expected, its volume dropped by more than half, and it now flowed sluggishly within him.
Still not enough—it needed to reach a solid state.
The denser it became, the stronger the resulting cursed form would be. He needed more.
But he wasn't in a rush—the real fruits of the Starlight Project hadn't even begun to show. This was just the beginning.
Step by step, he was making solid progress.
The clone stationed at the Medical Department would periodically deliver new batches of Cursed Energy sources, which he absorbed and integrated into himself.
The idea of illuminating his full body map was still far off, but he was closer now, and the steady pace gave him real hope of achieving it.
He had even assigned a few clones to focus solely on refining Cursed Energy—assimilating and filling in the new sources.
For a while, Sōjun Minamoto remained caught in this cycle: absorbing, compressing, merging, and assimilating.
...
Months later, the New Year arrived once again.
Sōjun Minamoto returned home from the outside. No matter how busy things got, their family always gathered for the New Year—it was tradition.
Otherwise, there was a real chance Mrs. Minamoto would storm Jujutsu High and drag him back herself.
This time, Sōjun Minamoto came prepared with gifts.
For Mrs. Minamoto, he had crafted a set of flying shuttles—ten in total, shaped like raindrops.
Aerodynamic and sleek, they boasted soul-damaging and highly durable properties. Together, they reached the level of Special Grade Cursed Tools.
They were tailor-made for Mrs. Minamoto and perfectly suited for her puppet manipulation techniques.
She was thrilled. The first thing she wanted to do was give him a hug to show her affection—but Sōjun Minamoto casually pressed a hand to her forehead and shifted her to the side.
She sat beside him, clearly unhappy, and kept poking his arm with her finger.
Sōjun Minamoto ignored her and took out the gift for Mr. Minamoto. It was a pendant composed of interlocking rings, deep blue in color, intricately engraved with ornate patterns.
At its center was a sealed metallic vertical eye. Its functions were soul and body protection, with some healing properties—also a Special Grade Cursed Tool.
Mr. Minamoto accepted the pendant without saying much. With his ability to manipulate flesh, he saw through it immediately. The flying shuttles were ten fingers, and the eye was indeed an eye.
Receiving a set of flesh-and-blood Cursed Tools from his own child on New Year's...
He didn't know the full details of Sōjun Minamoto's current situation—only that he was doing well and had grown very strong. In past years, the gifts had been more ordinary. This time was clearly different.
Still, he didn't ask questions. Sōjun Minamoto had always been independent, never one to cause them worry.
Seeing them accept the gifts, Sōjun Minamoto's eyes flashed with a hint of amusement. He turned to Madam Minamoto and suggested trying out her gift.
Her attention immediately shifted. She opened the gift box, revealing ten beautifully crafted, ornate flying shuttles. Her eyes lit up—she loved them instantly.
She activated a technique to connect with one of the shuttles. With a thought, it rose slowly into the air, then shot through the space at blinding speed. The transition between motion and stillness was seamless, smooth as silk. The entire process was silent—no sound at all.
Madam Minamoto liked the gift even more. She carefully put away the entire set, keeping them close to her body. In no time, her earlier irritation had vanished.
Effortlessly handled.
Friends from Jujutsu High also sent their New Year's greetings. After seventeen years here, Sōjun Minamoto had made a few solid connections.
Looking back on the past year, he had gained much and accomplished every goal he had set—though there were a few bumps, like that troublesome mechanism. Still, overall, he was very satisfied.
A new year meant a fresh start, and his plans were entering a brand new phase.
...
Inside the Shrine Domain, the various Sōjun Minamotos also welcomed the New Year. They began to tidy up, finally preparing to construct the Cursed Form in earnest.
All preparations were complete—there was no need for hesitation.
His flesh and blood began converting into Cursed Energy. Previously, the ratio was one part Cursed Energy to seven parts flesh, and the Cursed Energy existed in a loose, gaseous state. Now, under his control, it was being compressed into a solid form, achieving perfect equivalence.
It was worth noting that over the years, the quality of his flesh and soul had been refined to a level that couldn't be compared to the past.
In other words, the three components—flesh, soul, and Cursed Energy—were now equivalent, but each continued evolving.
His flesh was remarkably dense, and turning it into solid-state Cursed Energy had taken considerable time.
At this point, Sōjun Minamoto had vanished from the Shrine Domain, leaving behind only a massive, inky-black mass of Cursed Energy. It pulsed and contracted, squirming and trembling.
The mass was immense—it had swallowed the entire throne and even spread outward, engulfing the surrounding thorned flowers and broken swords.
Within the mass, a faint blue humanoid silhouette flickered into view.
As more Cursed Energy poured in, the nine-tiered platform was now empty—no throne, no flowers, no blades. Only a towering 2.5-meter tall, egg-shaped object stood at its center.
"Thump... thump..."
A slow, rhythmic heartbeat echoed from the giant egg. It was faint, yet it subtly resonated through the entire Shrine Domain, making the structure tremble along with it.
Special Grade Sōjun Minamoto stepped into the Domain and looked at the massive black egg. Silently, he calculated that hatching would still take some time, but with a large influx of curses, the process could be accelerated.
That, too, had already been factored into his plans.
In a few more months, the curse surge period would begin again, and the Starlight Project was nearly complete. Expanding it further would require going beyond the Church of the Stars...
But that could wait.
What mattered now was that the current phase was on the verge of eruption. The harvest was near, perfectly timed to carry forward this process and help him move quickly through the Cursed Womb stage.
Sōjun Minamoto looked forward to it. He still didn't know exactly what form the Cursed Form would take. Even though it was born from his heart, its nature remained elusive.
It was like breathing—something people never consciously think about. The moment you try to, the answer slips away.
The true essence of a curse was the same. Only when it emerged from the cocoon would its real form be revealed.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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