Chapter 11: Technique Replication
"Sever — Tenfold Blade Manipulation."
"What kind of technique is that now…?"
Caught between the two of them, Miwa murmured in disbelief.
She had to turn her head slightly as she spoke—otherwise she'd end up kissing the boy's neck. When Mai had been flung onto his back just now, Miwa hadn't reacted in time, and an accident had nearly occurred.
Fortunately, Ren had been fully focused on the enemy and hadn't noticed.
Even so, recalling that brief moment sent heat rushing back to Miwa's face. Her cheeks flushed red, her chest rising and falling a little faster. It almost felt as though her lips still retained that strange, fleeting sensation.
Her gaze lingered on the boy's neck—pale, faintly glistening with sweat.
Before she realized it, she instinctively licked her lips.
The instant awareness hit, she stiffened in panic, mortified.
"A technique?"
Ren scratched his head.
To be honest, it wasn't really any different from a standard cursed-energy blade. It barely qualified as a "technique" at all. He'd only felt that a finishing move ought to have a name, so he'd casually made one up on the spot.
"There's nothing special about it," he said.
"It's basically the same as a normal Sever. I just increased the cursed energy output and split a single stream into ten separate ones to expand the damage area."
"…Just?"
Miwa's pupils shrank violently.
For a moment, she genuinely felt as though she and this boy belonged to two entirely different species.
Split cursed energy into ten streams?
That alone sounded absurd.
And beyond that—each stream had to be condensed into a blade and supplied with its own propulsion force.
How many parallel processes was that supposed to be?
Yet coming from Ren, it sounded no different from ordinary cursed energy manipulation.
His tone was casual. Matter-of-fact.
As though he were talking about eating or drinking.
As though it were the most natural thing in the world.
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…That made sense.
Miwa quickly realized it herself—after all, he was someone who had independently grasped cursed energy blades, a high-level New Shadow Style secret, and done so within a single morning of first being exposed to the concept of cursed energy manipulation.
She looked again at the boy's profile.
In her pale blue eyes rose a mixture of admiration, yearning—and a quiet sense of inadequacy.
After all, they were the same year.
Worse still, he had joined later than she had.
Compared to Ren, she felt utterly useless.
"There shouldn't be any more high-grade cursed spirits, right?"
Ren asked casually, unaware of the turmoil on her back.
"S–Shouldn't be…" Mai replied.
"This place was only supposed to have a single Grade 3 cursed spirit. One of that level showing up was already abnormal. Another one…"
Another one…
Ren finished the thought silently.
If that happened, he really would go back and accuse Utahime-sensei of attempted murder.
Assigning him teammates like these—
And then sending them into a location where a clearly stronger-than-expected cursed spirit was lurking.
Outside the abandoned factory, Utahime—still watching the dark Curtain—suddenly sneezed for no apparent reason.
Complaints aside, Ren didn't truly believe Utahime meant him harm.
For one thing, she had no motive.
And for another—if she really wanted him dead, she wouldn't have bothered saving him in the first place.
Ren scanned the surroundings carefully, listening intently. Only after a long moment did he finally relax.
"Seems like there really aren't any more high-grade cursed spirits."
After another pause, he cleared his throat and spoke again—his tone slightly awkward.
"By the way… I have a question."
"How long are you two planning to stay on me?"
"You could've gotten down ages ago, you know."
"…Huh?"
Miwa, already wracked with guilt, panicked first.
She struggled to get off Ren's back—but being firmly wedged in the middle, all she managed was a futile squirm. The friction and pressure only made her acutely aware of the contours of his body, sending her thoughts into total disarray.
As for Mai—
She had simply been too tense.
The memory of roaring flames, Ren leaping through the inferno, and the instinctive need to cling tightly to him just to avoid falling into the fire—those sensations hadn't faded yet. Holding onto him had become a purely physiological response.
Only now, at his reminder, did she realize there was no longer any need for it.
She released her grip and sprang down in one clean motion—technically, off Miwa rather than Ren.
Miwa followed immediately, arms loosening as she slid down from his back.
Mai stretched her limbs, loosening muscles stiff from prolonged tension, then turned toward Ren.
"So… can we head back now?"
Only after saying it did she realize—too late—that she had unconsciously treated him as the leader, as if asking his permission.
They were supposed to be peers.
If anything, she technically had more seniority.
And yet—
Looking at his back, all her dissatisfaction and irritation vanished without a trace.
No matter how she felt about it…
He really was strong.
That fact alone robbed her of any remaining temper.
"Hey," she forced a change in tone, deliberately casual,
"we're done here, right?"
Ren had been staring at the lizard cursed spirit's massive corpse, watching until the shattered flesh—formed entirely of cursed energy—finally dissolved into black mist and vanished completely.
He turned around, a thoughtful expression on his face.
After a nod, the three of them headed down the corridor together.
Along the way, Ren remained silent, brow furrowed, as though grappling with an especially difficult problem.
Before long, both Mai and Miwa noticed his unusual quiet. They exchanged glances, and Mai spoke up first.
"What's wrong?"
"Do cursed spirits… also have innate techniques?"
Ren asked slowly.
"The flames—was that cursed spirit's technique?"
He replayed the scene in his mind: the creature hurling massive chunks of stone with brute strength, then suddenly opening its jaws and unleashing fire. His thoughts lingered on the flames gathering in its gaping mouth—and on the strange, almost human hand signs its claws had formed at the same time.
"Cursed spirits can possess techniques," Mai exhaled.
She'd thought Ren was pondering something far more troublesome—turns out it was just a typical rookie question.
"But generally speaking, only Grade 1 cursed spirits or higher can develop an innate technique."
"And that's why we can conclude—what we just defeated was a Grade 1 cursed spirit."
A trace of excitement surfaced between her brows.
This was the first Grade 1 cursed spirit she'd ever helped defeat.
Though… whether she could really claim that credit was debatable.
Even with a clear answer, Ren's expression didn't relax.
He opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again.
"What are you actually trying to say?"
Mai asked impatiently.
In her eyes, Ren was a genius—but one with too little accumulated knowledge, prone to getting stuck on odd lines of thought. Thinking without learning leads to confusion. What he needed was to voice his questions so experienced people could answer them—not stew in his own head.
"I was thinking," Ren said slowly, choosing his words with care,
"an 'innate technique' is ultimately just cursed energy flowing through the body, processed by special 'engraved patterns' within the flesh, and then manifested."
"Fundamentally, it's still just a more advanced form of cursed energy manipulation."
Then he turned to Mai, eyes serious.
"So—
is there a way to reproduce an innate technique through ordinary cursed energy control?"
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