The next set of battles had already been slated. Most of the top Outer Court disciples had finished their matches, narrowing the crowd's attention to just two arenas, Arena 7 and Arena 9.
On Arena 9, Gojo was scheduled to fight a strikingly beautiful girl, her style laced with a pirate-like charm. Gold earrings swung beneath messy braids of dark brown hair, and her confident smirk bore the ease of someone used to dancing at the edge of danger. Her presence drew hoots and hollers from male disciples and nervous glances from female ones.
Gojo sighed as he rolled his neck. He had nothing against fighting women. In combat, gender was irrelevant. But the expectations always shifted. When battling arrogant young masters, he could break bones and leave bruises with impunity. But against a woman? He could already feel the weight of eyes watching for even the slightest excess. It annoyed him.
Still, a match was a match. He took a step forward. And stopped. No, not because of reluctance. Something else had snagged his senses, like a hook dragging across his consciousness.
His attention snapped to Arena 7.
There, amidst the din of the tournament, a different kind of silence seemed to settle. Not the absence of sound, but the kind that grew when something unnatural entered the stage. It was the match between Han Yan and Luo Feng. And something was deeply, fundamentally wrong.
Han Yan stood in the center of the platform, dressed in gray battle robes, his long dark hair cascading past his shoulders. His posture was relaxed, too relaxed, like a man floating between dreams and reality. His handsome face wore a calm, unreadable expression, but it was the eyes that unsettled Gojo. Twin abysses, darker than midnight, devoid of any mortal light.
The Yuan Power surrounding him was unlike anything Gojo had sensed in this realm. It wasn't merely foreign, it was wrong. Not demonic in the conventional sense, not merely twisted by some dark cultivation. It was deeper. Older. Something primal and hostile.
Gojo narrowed his eyes, the familiar crystalline glow of the Six Eyes activating.
He rummaged through the fragmented memories left behind by that silver-haired ancient being, the Spatial Master whose soul remnants had long since fused with his own. Within those memories was a war, vast and apocalyptic, where humans and cultivators fought against an invading force not of this world, the Yi Mo. Devils from beyond the void. And Han Yan's aura wasn't just similar to theirs, it was more refined. More pure.
A frown creased Gojo's brow.
'This guy… he's not just touched by the Yi Mo. He might be one of them… or something worse.'
Despite the creeping dread, none of the elders appeared concerned. They watched the match with mild interest, their senses either dulled or deceived. Not a single one of them sensed what Gojo was seeing so clearly.
He turned toward Arena 7 again as the match reached its climax.
Luo Feng was no pushover. Gojo recognized him as Luo Ping's cousin, a proud youth whose spear arts were admired even among core disciples. He moved with sharp discipline, every thrust precise, his footwork honed through years of painful repetition.
Han Yan, by contrast, seemed almost lazy in his movements. He flowed around the storm of spear shadows with dreamlike elegance, his hands coated in a viscous, tar-like Yuan Power that made the air shimmer wherever it passed.
He's not even trying. Gojo thought, tension threading his jaw. He's just… playing.
BOOM! BOOM!
Each clash sent thunderous ripples across the stage. The two streaked across the arena like blazing comets, a blur of motion and destruction. The audience roared, torn between awe and dread.
Then, everything shifted. Han Yan deflected three spear strikes in rapid succession, one to the ribs, one to the throat, one to the eye. Then, like mist, he vanished.
Gasps rang out. He reappeared a breath later, directly in front of Luo Feng, his palm outstretched and cloaked in that same suffocating black mist.
"Abyss Devil Palm," he whispered.
Luo Feng's eyes widened. He barely had time to react, spinning his spear into a defensive guard. A whirl of wind erupted as he activated a layered defense.
The palm struck. An audible crack split the air as Luo Feng was blasted backward, his feet carving twin trails in the stone. He staggered at the edge of the arena, his grip on the spear wavering.
On the high platform, the First Elder stopped mid-puff of his pipe. His aged eyes narrowed, gleaming with sharpness.
"That Yuan Power," he murmured, "it's unnatural. Devilish."
MeiYing, seated beside him, noticed the sudden change in his expression.
"Grandfather… what is it? What's wrong with that Han Yan?" The old man didn't reply. But his silence was enough.
She turned to Gojo, whose gaze was locked on the battle. His expression, usually aloof or amused, was now carved from stone.
MeiYing felt a chill. If even these two are disturbed, then something's truly wrong.
Then—
Han Yan froze.
His body locked up. His eyes widened slightly. A tremor ran through him. And then came the sound, a low, guttural gasp that turned into a strangled moan.
He collapsed to his knees. "No… I won't… let you!"
His fingers clawed at his scalp, tearing through his hair as if battling something inside. Veins bulged beneath his pale skin. Black blood dripped from his mouth, his nose, his eyes.
Suddenly, the symbol on his chest, long hidden beneath his robes, burst into view. It glowed with a sickly, malevolent light. The air warped around it.
"What's happening to him?!"
"ARGHHH!!"
His scream shattered the growing silence. He ripped off his upper robes, revealing a grotesque sight, his chest and shoulders covered in writhing black tattoos, moving like living ink. They pulsed and expanded, creeping across his skin like a spreading disease.
Gojo's fists clenched at his sides. Something inside him was fighting for dominance… breaking him apart from within.
From the arena's edge, Luo Feng blinked, confused… then focused. He saw weakness. An opportunity. He couldn't hesitate.
Clutching his spear, he drew in a breath, his knuckles turning white.
"Luo God Spear Arts—Thunderclap Spiral!"
With a roar, he struck the base of his weapon, setting it into a whirling cyclone. Wind screamed around the spinning spear, and crackling Yuan Power burst forth like thunderclouds unraveling.
Blood ran down his palms from the centrifugal force as he hurled the weapon like a thunderbolt.
"STOP!" Gojo barked from the stands, but it was too late.
The spear slammed into Han Yan's chest with a sickening boom, knocking him flat and skidding him across the arena like a broken doll. For a moment, there was only silence.
"Is he… dead?"Even Luo Feng hesitated now.
Then—
BOOOOOOOM!!
A pillar of pitch-black Yuan Power erupted from Han Yan's body, tearing into the heavens. The wind howled. The sky darkened, an unnatural green-black hue spreading like a disease through the clouds.
The pressure that followed was soul-wrenching. Even core disciples dropped to one knee, struggling to breathe.
The Sect Master rose to his feet, his face hardening.
"Isn't this… the same phenomenon as that other incident?"
The First Elder didn't look at him. His voice dropped. "If it's a Saint Physique awakening… we might survive. If it isn't, prepare the sect for evacuation."
Below, the earth quaked.
Han Yan's body lifted from the ground, suspended by an unseen force. His skin turned ghostly white. His arms lengthened unnaturally, fingers tapering into black claws. His veins glowed dark violet beneath his skin.
His hair stretched, flowing down his back in cascading waves that now shimmered with an eerie green hue.
A massive, hollow circle began to burn into his chest, corroding muscle and flesh, exposing a void that leaked a thick mist of devilish energy.
Dark energy cloaked him, swirling around his frame like tattered robes from a burial shroud.
Then...
BOOM!
Two enormous wings burst from his back, black-feathered and dripping with blood. The feathers writhed like serpents, each one an extension of some malignant will. A halo formed above his head, dark and jagged, spinning like a crown of void.
The crowd recoiled in horror.
"A monster…!"
"He's not human!"
From the stands, even the elders began to rise, their protective barriers humming to life.
But Gojo? He grinned. The gleam of the Six Eyes intensified. His blood pulsed with excitement. His fingers twitched.
"This… This is amazing," he whispered. "A true work of art."
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A/N: Sorry for the late post. Concerning the transformation, imagine Ulquiorra's transformation in Bleach. Took inspiration from that. Anyways, you know the drill. Comment, Review, and give me POWERSTONES!