The Zenin compound was drowning in silence.
Bodies covered the courtyard. Rain washed away blood, but not the fear.
Footsteps echoed from the inner hall.
Slow.
Confident.
Clapping.
"Well… well…"
A tall figure stepped forward, smiling arrogantly.
Naoya Zenin.
"You really made a mess, Toji."
Across the courtyard stood Toji Fushiguro, blade resting at his side, eyes empty.
Naoya's grin widened.
"You were always a stain on the Zenin name. A monkey with no cursed energy."
No reaction.
That irritated Naoya.
"You think killing weaklings makes you strong?"
Toji finally looked up.
"You talk too much."
Projection Sorcery Activates
Naoya raised his hand.
"Projection Sorcery."
The air snapped.
In an instant—
He vanished.
A shockwave exploded where he once stood.
He reappeared behind Toji at blinding speed and drove a kick toward his spine—
But Toji leaned forward slightly.
The kick missed by centimeters.
Naoya's eyes widened.
Impossible.
He attacked again.
And again.
And again.
Toji wasn't faster.
He wasn't teleporting.
He wasn't predicting with cursed energy.
He was reading movement.
Muscle tension.
Breathing shifts.
The intent before motion.
Instinct.
Speed Overwhelms
Naoya accelerated further.
His body split into afterimages.
The ground cracked under his velocity.
"You can't keep up forever!" Naoya shouted.
This time—
He landed a hit.
Toji slid back several meters, carving a line in the stone.
Blood dripped from his lip.
Naoya smirked.
"See? Speed wins."
Toji wiped the blood calmly.
"No."
He adjusted his grip.
"You're moving in frames."
Naoya froze for half a second.
Projection Sorcery divided movements into 24 frames per second.
Toji had seen it.
Understood it.
Adapted.
Instinct Counters Speed
Naoya charged at maximum velocity.
The fastest he had ever moved.
Time itself felt delayed.
This was the finishing strike.
Toji stepped forward.
Not backward.
Forward.
He moved into the frame transition.
Before Naoya could complete his next projected motion—
Toji's blade pierced straight through his side.
Naoya gasped.
"How…?"
Toji spoke quietly.
"You think speed matters?"
He twisted the blade.
"I've been hunted my whole life."
Naoya collapsed to his knees, blood mixing with rain.
"You were… nothing…"
Toji leaned down slightly.
"And you were never strong."
One final slash.
Silence returned.
The Difference
Rain poured harder now.
The fastest sorcerer of the Zenin clan lay dead.
Speed had lost.
Instinct had won.
Toji looked up at the storm.
No satisfaction.
No rage.
Just emptiness.
Behind the clouds—
A presence watched with growing interest.
The board was clearing faster than expected.
And the true king of curses was waiting for his turn.