Crack—
A jagged bolt of lightning tore through the obsidian sky of Tokyo, momentarily turning the dead of night into a blinding, clinical white.
BOOM!!!
A pillar of electricity, thick as a massive water main, slammed into Satoru Gojo. The sheer kinetic force sent him skidding backward, while the residual current detonated like a series of high-explosive charges, vaporizing the surrounding architecture into dust.
Satoru shook his numbed arms, his eye twitching with a mix of annoyance and exhilaration. "As expected of the Gojo ancestor," he muttered, his voice sharp. "An attack that can actually bypass Infinity... that's a new one."
High above, suspended in the heavens, stood Sugawara no Michizane. Clad in archaic divine robes, his expression was a mask of cold indifference. He acted as a living lightning rod, drawing the celestial wrath of the storm into his own silhouette.
The majesty of the heavens descended. It was a scene of the apocalypse. Every casual flick of his wrist brought down a bolt that could trigger a mushroom cloud, illuminating the entirety of Tokyo's ruins.
As the progenitor of the line that produced the Six-Eyed twins and Yuta Okkotsu, Michizane's cursed energy pool was more than just vast—it was an ocean. It was a weight that rivaled Sukuna himself.
"You've been dead for nearly a thousand years, Great Ancestor. You really ought to stay down," Satoru called out, his tone a mix of mockery and steel. "Resting in peace and heading for reincarnation—now that's a virtue a ghost should cultivate!"
With a sharp grunt, Satoru leaped into the sky.
"Black Flash!"
He unleashed an explosive punch, simultaneously using Blue to pull Michizane's body toward him. By manipulating their relative speeds, he magnified the impact to an impossible degree.
CRASH!!!
The terrifying blow punched a massive hole through Michizane's midsection. The resulting shockwave rippled outward, flipping hundreds of meters of asphalt like a deck of cards, sending debris and dust shrieking into the air.
But in the next heartbeat, Sugawara no Michizane's flesh and blood dissolved into crackling arcs of lightning. The gaping wound in his torso knitted itself back together with the speed of a thought.
"Cursed Technique Release: Takemikazuchi."
Michizane's entire form became a translucent, ethereal blue. He ascended further on a throne of thunder, his glowing eyes looking down like a god upon an ant. With his hair streaming wildly, he was the literal incarnation of the God of Thunder.
He simply waved a hand.
A bolt of heavenly lightning descended, shaping itself into a roaring dragon of electricity that lunged at Satoru. The mere sonic boom of its roar was enough to shatter every window for blocks.
Satoru laughed, not holding back his praise. "Impressive, Ancestor! Truly impressive!"
"But a thousand years have passed," Satoru continued, his eyes flashing behind his blindfold. "We descendants haven't exactly been standing still."
"Maximum Output: Space."
In an instant, the surrounding reality shattered and reformed like fractured glass. Up became down; the stars themselves seemed to shift. The world plunged into a kaleidoscope of warped logic.
The lightning dragon surged into this bizarre space, but a strange phenomenon occurred. Its body was segmented into several pieces—not severed, but rather appearing as if it were traveling through multiple wormholes. Its head emerged from one point while its tail swung from another, its massive form fragmented across different coordinates of the warped dimension.
Satoru toyed with the ferocious dragon as if it were a common plaything. But before he could savor the triumph, a thunderous boom shook the space.
Michizane, in his Takemikazuchi form, tore through the spatial barriers with brute force, dragging ten thousand volts of celestial wrath behind him. The berserk electricity flooded every inch of Satoru's warped world.
"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."
"Cursed Technique Reversal: Red."
The two clashed in a blur of divine violence. Satoru grinned savagely as he launched two "marbles" of concentrated energy. Michizane, sensing the impending catastrophe, accelerated to the speed of a lightning strike to stop the two spheres from colliding.
The warped space twisted further, repelling both Blue and Red into a hidden pocket of dimension. Michizane's hand grasped only empty air.
Then, a terrifying violet light erupted.
Satoru's grin widened. "My maximum output Hollow Purple... consider it a parting gift, Ancestor!"
BOOM!!!
A hemispherical wave of pure annihilation expanded, erasing everything in its path. The warped space, the roaring dragon, the god-like Michizane—all were swallowed. At the final millisecond, Satoru himself slipped into a spatial rift.
The shockwave leveled everything within a kilometer. Buildings, greenery, and the very crust of the earth vanished, leaving behind nothing but a perfect, smoldering crater.
At the bottom of the pit stood a charred, motionless figure.
Sugawara no Michizane stood silently. More than half of his body had been reduced to charcoal; glowing embers pulsed within the cracks of his blackened flesh.
Zzzt—
A stray spark of electricity crackled, throwing off a few dying embers.
The space in front of him tore open. Satoru Gojo stepped out, his clothes in tatters. Half of his face had been scorched away, but under the influence of Reverse Cursed Technique, the flesh was already knitting back together with a wet, squelching sound.
"That was a hell of a fight, Great Ancestor!"
"Ah... yes, it was."
Satoru froze, almost reaching up to rub his ears in disbelief.
Michizane slowly raised his head. Half his face was a burnt husk, but the remaining half bore a gentle, weary smile. His eyes were no longer clouded with the madness of a Vengeful Spirit; they were clear, seeing the world as it was.
He looked at Satoru with genuine pride.
"I apologize. Over the long centuries, the erosion of time allowed my resentment to overcome my reason. I have caused much trouble for you."
"However... seeing a genius descendant like you, I can finally rest in peace."
Faced with such sincere praise from the progenitor of his bloodline, even the arrogant Satoru Gojo scratched his head awkwardly. "Ah... haha..."
Michizane's form began to flicker. "My consciousness is fading..." His voice was weak, his words fragmented.
"The one... who woke us... the sorcerer... Kenjaku..."
"His true name... is Ashiya Doman..."
With those final words, Sugawara no Michizane's body crumbled into fine ash and vanished into the wind.
"Ashiya Doman?!"
Satoru stood stunned. Even for someone who had skipped most of his history and culture classes, that name was inescapable.
"A legend from the myths themselves..."
The Great Three Families each possessed their own inherited techniques: Limitless, Ten Shadows, and Blood Manipulation.
Yet, in the eyes of the world, Blood Manipulation had never quite reached the heights of the other two. In this generation, the Six-Eyed twins were the undisputed peak. Megumi Fushiguro had already mastered Domain Expansion, and once he could tame Mahoraga, his ascension to Special Grade was inevitable.
In contrast, Noritoshi Kamo's performance had been underwhelming—peaking at the ceiling of Grade 1. Even Choso, who possessed an "optimized" version of the technique, remained within the realm of a Grade 1 sorcerer.
So, was Blood Manipulation truly the weakest?
In this moment, as Suguru Geto stared at the figure of Emperor Sutoku, he finally found his answer.
"So this is... true Blood Manipulation?"
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