The Forbidden Vault, including its deepest chamber, had been placed under the exclusive watch of Sōjun Minamoto.
Within it were stored and sealed the vast majority of cursed objects the jujutsu world had collected over the past thousand years.
As the name suggests:
"Forbidden"—things considered unfit and thus avoided;
"Vault"—a place or container for storing valuable items.
The Forbidden Vault existed precisely to store cursed objects that were both valuable and dangerous—or rather, it was a domain created specifically to contain such threats. Entry was strictly prohibited without proper authorization. The risks inside were as great as the potential rewards.
That was why, during the handover, Tengen had only entrusted Sōjun with a single key.
The vault wasn't located anywhere in the physical world—it was more like a Domain, a space carved out separately from reality. The key served as the gateway.
Naturally, Sōjun Minamoto met all the conditions to enter—both in power and clearance.
He planned to see if there were any suitable cursed objects inside. Things like the thousand-year burial shroud, century-old coffin nails, or bones buried in a blood pit that hadn't decayed over time...
The principle was the same: if something had soaked in emotion long enough, even an ordinary item could transform into something strange—a cursed object.
Which again reaffirmed a fundamental truth: humans are the source of all curses.
Sōjun arrived beneath the White Bone Tree.
He had anchored the Forbidden Vault within the shrine's storage chamber. Across all of Jujutsu High—no, the entire jujutsu world—there was no place more secure, inside or out.
This was his second time entering.
The moment he stepped inside, everything dimmed.
Black mist drifted through the air, trembling slightly as twisted shapes emerged one after another. Strange figures swelled and dispersed, swarming him, only to dissolve back into mist and merge again behind him.
Grotesque shadows closed in, some whispering at his ears, others sobbing eerily, some laughing maniacally—all trying to burrow into his mind, reach his deepest memories...
Sōjun raised an eyebrow and said softly,
"Quiet."
The voices stopped immediately. The illusion vanished. Even the faint breeze around him stilled.
The scene shifted.
Talisman papers lined the surrounding walls. Dangerous cursed objects were either sealed inside peachwood boxes or chained in place. Everything looked a bit chaotic.
Cursed tools lay scattered without order. Crimson runes covered the surfaces, and the chains were entwined randomly across the room...
But this was the true face of the Forbidden Vault.
The cursed objects within were of extremely high rank. Instinctively, they sought to escape their seals, using illusions and manipulations to draw the attention of intruders.
If anyone other than Sōjun had entered, they would likely have been trapped in hallucinations, drawn closer to the objects, compelled to touch them.
The objects would then seize the chance to possess their bodies and be reborn through them.
That was the danger of stepping inside.
And if any of those cursed objects managed to resurrect and escape, the bloodshed they'd bring to the outside world would be catastrophic.
That was the danger the Forbidden Vault posed to the world beyond.
The higher-ups had handed over the vault so easily because it was of no practical benefit to them—worse, it came with liability. The guardian bore the responsibility if anything went wrong.
If even a single cursed object in the vault could be tamed or destroyed, it would be a win for the entire jujutsu world.
But for Sōjun Minamoto, his strength made the risks negligible—what remained was all gain.
He stood unaffected by the cursed objects, eyes calmly lowering to the center of the room, where nine test tubes were arranged, each containing an embryo-like cursed object.
They floated in the fluid, each at a different stage of development:
The first was still an unformed mass, like a fleshy ulcer. Then came a stage resembling an iron chopstick, followed by a shoe last, a float bladder... gradually, limbs and a head began to take shape, then elbows, knees, the nine orifices. The intestines began forming. A thousand tendons grew—two hundred and fifty each on the front, back, left, and right. Eventually, the embryo reached completion.
The nine embryos were in different stages of this transformation.
Their fleshy bodies drifted up and down in the fluid, seemingly alive.
And in a way, they were.
These nine were relatively quiet—they weren't causing any chaos.
Grouped together, they formed the Special Grade cursed object known as the [Cursed Womb: Death Paintings].
Sōjun Minamoto tilted his head slightly, listening.
They were speaking.
"Brother, are you there?"
"I'm here."
"Brother, it's so cold."
"It's alright. Let's talk."
"If we talk, it won't feel cold anymore."
"..."
Sōjun Minamoto's interest was piqued. The Star Eyes fixed on the nine test tubes.
He hadn't heard them speak—not the last time, nor just now.
Historically, the concept behind the [Cursed Womb: Death Paintings] originated from the Buddhist meditation on impurity.
During the early Heian period, there was a queen of peerless beauty—so stunning that anyone who saw her was captivated. Her beauty stirred impure thoughts in many.
Yet she was virtuous, compassionate, and kind. Before her death, she left a final will: her body was not to be buried for 49 days and 49 nights, but left exposed in the wild. She wanted people to witness how her once-beautiful body would decay—from fresh and lovely in death, to bloated, rotting, leaking pus and blood, stinking, bruised, devoured by maggots and beasts, disintegrating...
Until only scattered bones remained—then buried, and finally reduced to ashes, indistinguishable from the dirt.
These are the nine stages of post-mortem decay: fresh death, bloating, blood staining, disintegration, being consumed, bruising, bones connected, bones scattered, returning to ash.
Through this, she meant to show that beauty is an illusion, that all things are impermanent, fleeting as dreams and mirages.
Some Buddhist scriptures also describe this post-mortem process as a form of cultivation. By visualizing these nine stages, one could attain insight into life's truths. This practice became known as the "Nine Reflections."
Sōjun Minamoto had always been curious about the [Cursed Womb: Death Paintings], but after seeing the real thing, he felt the jujutsu world's version leaned more toward Shinto ideology.
He understood their origin.
During the early Meiji era, a woman with a unique constitution became pregnant with a Cursed Spirit's child. When her relatives discovered her inexplicable pregnancy, they subjected her—and the child in her womb—to cruel torment and relentless curses.
The fetus became stillborn. The woman fled with its remains, seeking refuge in a temple.
But that was just the beginning of her true suffering.
There, she encountered Noritoshi Kamo—or more accurately, Kenjaku.
Kenjaku used her for a series of experiments: nine pregnancies, nine forced terminations...
Eventually, she gave birth to nine Cursed Wombs, into which Kenjaku infused the blood of Noritoshi Kamo.
Thus was born the Special Grade cursed object—[Cursed Womb: Death Paintings].
Because of this, Noritoshi Kamo's name was etched into history as the most vile jujutsu sorcerer—a stain the three great families could never erase.
As for how the experiments were conducted, or what became of the woman, all records were destroyed.
This origin reflected the fusion of religious ideology in Japan: life governed by Shinto, death by Buddhism. During the Meiji period, state policy began to favor Shinto, shifting from the previous blend of Shinto and Buddhism to a dominance of Shinto.
That's why the Cursed Wombs aligned more with Shinto beliefs.
They were born from the union of humans and Cursed Spirits—through blood and childbirth. While they symbolized new life, what they embodied was ultimate filth and evil.
After closely examining the Cursed Wombs, Sōjun Minamoto still found contradictions. Compared to the historical [Death Paintings], these were their inverse.
He reached out, drew a wisp of aura from one of them. It coiled around his fingertip as he briefly recorded it, then dispersed it.
Just incidental work.
His main objective this time was to find a suitable cursed object.
The Special Grade ones were immediately off the list.
Like the desiccated finger wrapped in layers of talisman paper, sealed using the [Demon-Rousing Curse of Resentful Binding]; or that living barrier that resembled a Rubik's cube...
He had no interest in any of them.
Special Grade cursed objects were indestructible. Their existence was safeguarded by a Binding Vow—to end life, yet not harm others.
Otherwise, Sōjun Minamoto would've devoured them by now.
Still, techniques like Blood Manipulation, slash-based arts, and the karmic barrier imbued with the "living" attribute—all capable of sealing anything—held tremendous value.
He brushed those thoughts aside and moved to another section.
There, the cursed items were below Special Grade—exactly what he'd come for.
After carefully sifting through the selection, he picked out several suitable cursed tools. Combined with his own strength, they were more than enough.
He formed a hand seal, closing the Forbidden Vault. Silence returned. Black mist filled the chamber once more, and indistinct shadows clung to the walls, their gazes fixed unwaveringly on the sealed entrance.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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