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Shiki POV
The walls twisted and curved unnaturally, spiraling upward into a black void that stretched endlessly above. The once pristine white corridors of the hospital were now marred with graffiti-like lines, intersecting in bizarre, chaotic patterns that seemed almost alive.
The air was heavy with an oppressive silence, save for the soft drip of blood from my katana, staining the floor beneath me.
I didn't know how long I'd been moving through this maze. Hours, maybe?
As I moved deeper, the situation grew more troublesome. I could feel it—the thick tension, the hidden malevolence lurking just ahead. My thoughts were interrupted by a sound I had become too familiar with—the shuffle of footsteps. But this time, it wasn't a lone body dragging itself toward me. It was a horde.
I tightened my grip on my sword, my fingers steady. I didn't wait for them to come to me. I moved first, dashing down the corridor toward them. My eyes, glowing with the cold blue hue, locked onto the lines crisscrossing their twisted bodies.
Slice.
A leg severed cleanly from its torso, crumpling to the ground.
Slash.
Another head rolled, its eyes still wide in that grotesque, empty stare.
Each strike was quick. My blade moved faster than their lifeless bodies could react, cutting through them effortlessly. The lines that made up their existence were so clear to me, so easy to erase.
Sever.
An arm hit the floor with a dull thud.
Crack.
A body split in two, collapsing into the ground.
It didn't take long. The fight was over before it had even begun. The corpses were nothing more than puppets, their movements ceasing as soon as I found their lines and cut them. I stood over the bodies for a moment, watching the lifeless forms piled around me before continuing forward.
The further I ventured into this place, the more absurd it became. Every door I encountered was locked. Some I sliced through without a second thought, only to reveal more empty corridors, more dead ends.
After what felt like an eternity, I reached another dead end. I could the faintest of lines on the surface of the wall. With a simple swing, I opened a new path and stepped into a vast, empty space.
From above, I saw it. A massive figure. A cursed spirit.
It was huge, far larger than anything I had encountered before. Its body twisted and pulsed, barely contained by the room. And yet, it reminded me of something. I had seen something similar before, back when I first woke up in that hospital, months ago.
"That must be the special grade," I muttered to myself, my grip tightening around my sword as I studied the creature below.
The lines... so many of them, crisscrossing its massive body.
I leaped down from my vantage point. The fall took several seconds—this space was larger than I had anticipated. Even before I hit the ground, I felt it. The cursed spirit's gaze was locked onto me. The moment I landed, it moved. The ground trembled slightly as it shifted, its massive frame casting a long, dark shadow over me.
Up close, the cursed spirit was even more imposing, but that didn't matter. Its size just made it a bigger target. I could see the lines on its body, and all I had to do was cut them.
I moved in, my sword ready to strike, measuring the spirit's strength. Even without cursed energy, I could feel the pressure it exerted. It was strong—dangerously strong. But I've faced worse.
Or so I thought.
In an instant, the cursed spirit vanished from my sight.
No. Not vanished. It moved.
Fast.
I barely registered it before I felt the impact. A fist slammed into my side, with an overwhelming force strong enough to send me flying. The ground disappeared beneath me as my body hit the wall with a sharp crack.
The impact wasn't enough to kill me, but the sudden force... that was unexpected.
I stood, shaking off the dust as I straightened, my body tensed.
"So... you're fast," I muttered, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. "This might be fun after all."
Thankfully, my sword wasn't damaged. In fact, it felt even more durable. I couldn't deny that my handling of weapons was… methodical, maybe even too harsh. So many of them had broken in my hands before. But this sword—it seemed to grow stronger with every fight.
I tightened my grip, feeling its weight.
There was no time to ponder it further.
Without hesitation, I dashed toward the it, using the wall as a foothold to propel myself forward, straight toward the cursed spirit. My blade gleamed, ready to slice through the lines on the surface of his skin, across its massive body. I could see it—the point where it would fall, the moment I would sever its existence.
But just as I swung, the cursed spirit vanished.
'Damn it.'
I wasn't surprised though. I already anticipated this.
My eyes flicked across the room, senses heightened. I could feel it. It wasn't gone—it was hiding, waiting for the right moment to strike.
And there it was.
From below.
I barely had time to register the movement before I felt the cursed spirit's presence beneath me, lying low on the ground. Its massive leg shot up, aiming directly at my side.
I knew this attack was coming, but the timing… it was too perfect, too fast.
With no time to dodge, I raised my arm instinctively to block it.
CRACK.
The impact slammed into me, a force far too powerful for something so close. Typically, the impact of a punch depends on the force behind it, but the kick was different. Even with what seemed like insufficient physical force, the kick was powerful enough to send shockwaves through my body.
But I didn't stop. Even as the pain shot through my arm, I twisted mid-air, landing hard but on my feet. I kept my focus, eyes still locked on the cursed spirit.
"You're going to have to try harder than that," I smirk, blood dripping from my lip as I steadied my stance, sword still firmly in hand.
The cursed spirit didn't respond, but its form writhed, eyes fixed on me as if assessing its next move.
It didn't matter how fast it moved or how strong it was. I could still see it—All I needed was one perfect strike.
And I wasn't going to miss again.
Once again, I dashed toward the spirit, closing the distance between us in a blur. Its speed and strength were remarkable—far beyond what I had faced in Tokyo. As expected of a special grade, It was truly special. Its reflexes were sharp, reacting to my movements with frightening accuracy. For any other sorcerer with a weak body, this fight would've been a nightmare.
Even if they managed to protect their bodies with cursed energy, its punches were powerful enough to cause severe internal damage, including ruptured organs and internal bleeding.
As the battle dragged on, the once spotless space had become a warzone, craters and debris scattered across every surface. The cursed spirit's raw power was undeniable, and each punch or kick sent me flying across the room like a ragdoll. Every impact cracked the walls, leaving debris and deep fissures in the ground
That was good news.
The debris gave me cover, allowing me to move in close. I weaved through the rubble, getting just within range of its feet. But the cursed spirit was fast. It noticed me the moment I got close enough and swung a powerful kick my way.
Too fast. I didn't have time to dodge.
The impact sent me into the air, my body spinning from the force, but I quickly regained control, adjusting my momentum and landing gracefully on the ceiling, my feet sticking to the surface. From up here, I could see the entire battlefield—every crack, every piece of debris, and most importantly, every line on the spirit's body.
I kicked off from the ceiling with full force, propelling myself downward in a blur. The angle wasn't perfect—I couldn't reach its head—but that didn't matter. Its arm was wide open, the lines glowing like targets just waiting for me to sever them.
I shot forward, sword ready.
Slice.
For the first time, the cursed spirit seemed to hesitate. Even without a face, I could sense its anger and confusion.
I wiped the blood from my blade, the weight of the situation hanging in the air. But I wasn't worried. Not yet.
The cursed spirit didn't even have time to react as my katana cut through its arm. It fell to the ground with a heavy thud, twitching uselessly beside it.
"One down."
Despite lacking a face, the cursed spirit's rage was palpable. Its enormous body trembled, and the air around it seemed to crackle with violent energy. The mouth that stretched unnaturally across its body widened, revealing sharp teeth, and a deep, guttural growl escaped.
"You… dare… harm me… human?" Its voice was distorted, like multiple voices layered atop one another. The sheer weight of it sent a pressure that vibrated through the ground.
"Dare?" I smirked, wiping the blood off my katana. "I already did."
The spirit's distorted roar filled the room as it charged at me, its movements now erratic with fury.
The floor trembled beneath its massive steps, each one shaking the room harder than before. I could barely register it moving before it was in front of me, its remaining arm swinging down with terrifying speed. I narrowly dodged to the side, the impact of its fist leaving a crater where I had stood just moments ago.
But something about the way it moved, how much the room shook after every strike, didn't feel natural. The strength it was using now felt far greater than when we started.
I narrowed my eyes, watching closely. It didn't make sense. Yes, it was powerful, but now even the smallest motions seemed to have devastating consequences. It wasn't just the force—it was the speed. Even though I had severed its arm, its reaction time had somehow increased.
And then it clicked.
The cursed technique.
It wasn't just brute strength and speed—it was magnification. Every action, however small, was being amplified to terrifying degrees. That's why it could move so fast and hit so hard. Each swing of its arm, each step forward, was becoming exponentially more powerful, magnified beyond the normal limits.
Shiki muttered to herself; her gaze fixed on the spirit. "So that's it… No wonder it hit so hard despite the minimal effort."
The sheer force of that strike, despite its seemingly minimal physical effort, was now making sense.
I dodged another swipe, this time with more understanding.
"So that's your trick, huh?" I muttered to myself, a smirk tugging at my lips.
The cursed spirit snarled again, its distorted voice shaking the room. "I… will crush you."
But now that I understood, it wasn't as terrifying as before.
"You can't crush what you can't hit," I taunted, leaping backward as the ground shattered where its fist struck again. Its power was overwhelming, but predictable now that I knew what was happening.
I kept my distance, watching the cursed spirit grow more and more frantic. The more it tried to land a hit, the more erratic its movements became.
I would just have to end it before it could magnify its next move to something I couldn't dodge.
The moment the cursed spirit prepared to lunge at me, I dashed toward it, sliding beneath its outstretched arm. I spun around, my katana slicing through the massive line of death running along its leg.
Slice.
The leg fell away as it staggered back, roaring in fury. I stepped back, eyes glowing with that familiar blue hue as I prepared for the final strike.
"Looks like you're running out of limbs." I smirked, already seeing the end.
Just before I could land the final strike, a loud crash echoed through the space. One of the doors on the wall flew open, kicked from the inside, and slammed against the wall with a deafening bang.
"What now?" I muttered, glancing toward the disturbance.
From the door, a familiar voice rang out, loud and unmistakable.
"Waaaaah!"
Maki came crashing through the opening, but she wasn't alone. right behind her, Nanami followed, looking as calm and collected as ever despite the chaos. They both emerged from the same door, bringing even more mayhem with them.
Behind them, hordes of famiilar corpses followed, gnashing their teeth and flailing wildly. Maki was moving fast, cutting down one corpse after another as they dashed toward the center of the room.
"Bringing a party with you?" I called out, half-annoyed, half-amused.
His expression was deadpan as usual, his blunt sword resting on his shoulder. "I see you've made quite a mess,"
They skidded to a stop next to me, Maki is breathing hard but with a grin plastered on her face.
"Thought you could use some help," she said, glancing over at the massive, half-dismembered cursed spirit still writhing in front of us.
"Looks like you've been busy."
I rolled my eyes, but a small smirk played on my lips. "I had it under control. Your timing's a bit off."
Maki grinned wider. "Yeah? From the looks of it, this one's still kicking. Let's finish it."
.
.
Third Person POV
Earlier
Maki sprinted down the narrow corridors of the twisted hospital, her heart racing as the echoing sounds of corpses behind her grew louder.
The entire structure had shaken, causing doors to burst open and the dead to spill out like an unstoppable wave. Dozens of twisted corpses, with torn limbs and lifeless eyes, were now flooding the hallway.
"Damn it," she muttered, glancing over her shoulder at the growing horde.
Her breathing was steady, but the urgency was undeniable. She cursed under her breath again as she dodged past a fallen hospital bed, expertly spinning her polearm in hand. The cursed energy in her weapon buzzed with anticipation, but there were too many of them. Even for her.
"Great, just great," she grumbled, turning another corner.
And then, she felt it—the tremor again. The entire hallway shook beneath her feet, and with it, another set of doors crashed open to her left. More corpses stumbled out, blocking her path.
"You're kidding me!"
With no other choice, Maki turned on her heel, retreating in the opposite direction. But the corridor in front of her wasn't clear either. More corpses came flooding from the right side, funneling into the corridor like water rushing toward her. Panic didn't suit Maki, though.
"Okay, think, think…" She tightened her grip on her polearm, gritting her teeth. There was only one option left now—she had to find a way out, fast.
Just then, she heard a familiar voice.
"Maki, this way!"
It was Nanami, standing at the end of a branching corridor, his blunt sword raised in a defensive stance as he sliced through an incoming corpse.
"Nanami!" Maki called, running toward him. She dove past him as he cut down two more corpses with swift, deliberate movements.
Nanami glanced around. "We need to regroup with Shiki. There's no point in fighting this endless swarm."
Maki's heart raced as she followed Nanami through the narrow, claustrophobic corridors. Despite their best efforts, the corpses continued to flood in from every direction. The more they cut down, the more seemed to take their place. Their numbers were overwhelming, and the twisted structure of the hospital wasn't helping.
With every swing of her polearm, Maki felt the strain. The tight spaces made it difficult to maneuver, forcing her to hold back. She could barely get the reach she needed without risking getting cornered.
"Damn it!" Maki grunted, smashing the nearest corpse into the wall, but more kept coming. The floor beneath her feet felt uneven, and the ceiling… no, there was no ceiling—just that endless void above. It made her stomach churn every time she looked up.
"Nanami, this is getting ridiculous!"
"Stay sharp, Maki. We can't afford to get reckless."
"I'm trying, but there's no end to them!" Her grip tightened on her weapon as she crushed another corpse.
The thought of Shiki flashed through her mind, stirring both irritation and admiration. She was out there somewhere, deeper in this cursed place, cutting through whatever stood in her way without hesitation.
Shiki… She could cut through this horde like it was nothing.
"She's probably already made it through," Maki muttered under her breath, both frustrated and inspired by the thought.
"I can't let her show me up," she thought, gritting her teeth as she swung her polearm in a wide arc, cutting through the next wave of corpses. But the space was too tight, and she felt the resistance as her weapon clanged against the walls. She was starting to lose momentum.
Maki gritted her teeth as she swung her naginata, slashing through the seemingly endless wave of enemies. The sheer number of them was overwhelming, their mindless hunger driving them to attack without care for their own safety.
Even with her strength and skill, Maki was starting to feel the strain. Her arms ached, sweat dripped down her forehead, and her breathing became heavy.
She was used to handling difficult situations, but this was pushing her limits.
"We need to move," Nanami said, his voice steady but urgent as he cut down another group of advancing corpses. "The longer we stay here, the worse it will get."
"I know that!" Maki snapped, wiping sweat from her brow, eyes darting to the endless horde. She couldn't stop thinking about Shiki. Could she really handle this better than I am? The thought stung.
Shiki could, she knew that much.
Another wave came at her, and Maki barely managed to dodge, her naginata slicing through several of the enemies as she spun on her heel. But more replaced them, the ground beneath her littered with their fallen bodies, yet it wasn't enough. They kept coming, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold out.
Her mind raced. Her body screamed for relief. It felt like an unwinnable battle, and for a moment, she wondered if this was it—if she'd be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.
But then something inside her clicked.
Everything seemed to slow down.
Maki's eyes widened as her surroundings shifted. The frantic chaos of battle melted away, and in its place, there was a strange calm.
She could see everything clearly now—the infected rushing at her, their movements sluggish as if time itself had slowed. But more than that, she could see something else.
A path.
Multiple paths.
Her breath steadied, her hands gripping the naginata with newfound purpose.
She didn't think. She just acted.
Her naginata moved with a speed and grace that felt almost automatic, slicing through the enemy as if they were made of air. She followed the paths.
Each swing perfectly timed.
Each strike hitting exactly where it needed to.
She cut down three enemies in one sweeping motion, spun around, and dismembered another group with ease.
Maki's body moved faster than she thought possible, her naginata carving through the infected with deadly accuracy. Each path she saw guided her toward the perfect spot to kill, and she followed them without hesitation. The battlefield, which had been chaotic moments ago, now felt like a choreographed dance.
Everything flowed effortlessly.
From the side, Nanami observed, impressed. No, it was more than that—it was amazing. Even he could see how efficient her movements had become. There was no wasted effort. Each step, each swing was precise and controlled, conserving her energy while cutting through the horde.
But even as Maki cut down the waves of enemies with precision, the sheer number of corpses kept increasing. Nanami couldn't understand where they were coming from. It was like an endless tide, flowing in from every corner of the twisted space.
Suddenly, while slashing through another group, Nanami's senses sharpened. He felt it—a powerful cursed energy, different from the swarms of corpses. His eyes darted toward one of the doors near Maki.
"Special grade…" he muttered under his breath, recognizing the oppressive force.
"Maki! Head for the door!" Nanami shouted over the chaos
"What?!"
"We need to regroup with Shiki, now! That cursed energy—it's coming from behind the door!"
Maki scowled, slicing down the last of the immediate horde.
"Fine!"
With a determined glare, she forced her way through the horde, cutting down anything that stood in her way.
Reaching the door, she kicked it open without hesitation.
"Waaaaah!"
Maki and Nanami stumbled into the vast space, and as they entered, their eyes widened at the scene before them.
The once spotless room was now riddled with craters, debris scattered everywhere. And at the center of it all, Shiki stood with her sword drawn, facing a massive cursed spirit that dwarfed everything in the room.
Shiki glanced back at them, a smirk tugging at her lips.
The air thickened with tension. This would end soon. One way or another.
[END]