The air crackled with tension as the creature lunged, its arm extending like a piston.
At the tip, razor-sharp claws gleamed with a faint, ethereal blue light, leaving trails of energy in their wake.
Sora's response was instantaneous.
The ground beneath the curse erupted as a spike of cursed liquid shot upward, aimed to impale.
The creature twisted with unnatural speed, the spike grazing its side but failing to land a killing blow.
It hissed, a sound like grinding stone, and leapt onto a nearby wall.
Using it as a springboard, it launched itself down toward Sora, its claws now burning with an even more intense blue luminescence.
"Grade 2 cursed Spirit. Leaning towards physical type."
Sora's expression hardened.
The assessment was cold and clear in his mind. He knew he was outmatched in raw power, but surrender wasn't an option.
He flooded his body with cursed energy, reinforcing his muscles and bones to their limit. Simultaneously, he drafted a swirling shield of his liquid cursed technique, holding it steady.
The impact was brutal. The glowing claws didn't just break the shield; they sliced through it as if it were water, the liquid technique dissipating into nothing.
The claws continued their path, biting deep into Sora's left arm. A sharp cry of pain escaped his lips, but there was no surprise in his eyes, only grim acceptance.
He had expected as much.
As the curse recoiled for another strike, Sora acted. The liquid on his right arm surged, solidifying instantly into a vicious, spiked gauntlet.
He ignored the searing pain in his left arm and lunged forward, pouring every ounce of his cursed energy into a single, devastating punch aimed at the creature's exposed chest.
The blow connected with a sickening crunch, amplified by both his energy and the solidified liquid. It was a hit that would have crippled a lesser curse.
This one, however, merely staggered back a few steps, its chest caved in but already beginning to regenerate. It let out a furious screech and retaliated with a blindingly fast flurry of slashes.
Each clawed strike was precise, aimed at Sora's vitals—his throat, his heart, his eyes.
Sora was forced on the defensive, weaving and dodging, but he was losing ground. He wouldn't be outdone.
With a mental command, his true weapon made its move. Hidden behind the curse, the massive liquid metal hammer he had secretly materialized from a mettalic puddle on the floor swung down with earth-shattering force.
The first blow caught the curse completely by surprise, smashing it into the wall with a thunderous impact. But the hammer, while powerful, was slow. The curse recovered with terrifying speed, and the subsequent pounding strikes were dodged or blocked, the hammer barely scratching it before the creature was out of range.
Sora was in a dire state. Blood streamed from the gash on his left arm and a deep cut on his leg.
A careless moment had left three parallel scratches across his cheek. His head was starting to feel light, his vision swimming at the edges.
"I can't die here."
The curse was relentless, a blur of motion and lethal intent. Sora was a ghost of a fighter, his movements reduced to the bare minimum required to survive.
Each dodge was a fraction too slow, each block a moment too late. A shallow cut opened on his ribs, another on his shoulder.
His vision tunneled, the edges blurring into a dark, encroaching void.
The world was losing its color, its sound, its substance. He could feel his own life, a flickering candle flame in a hurricane, about to be snuffed out.
He stumbled, his knee hitting the ground with a dull thud. The curse saw its opening, its claws raised high for the final, triumphant strike.
"Not like this."
The thought was a dying ember in the suffocating darkness of his fading consciousness.
It wasn't a plea, but a roar of pure, unadulterated defiance.
A refusal to let his story end here, in the grime and shadow, forgotten.
"Not... like... THIS!!"
The ember caught. It didn't just glow; it detonated.
A cataclysmic force erupted from the very core of his being.
It wasn't a gentle wave; it was a violent, agonizing reversal.
The corrosive, negative energy that fueled his cursed technique—the very essence of his power that was now failing him—was seized, twisted, and torn inside out.
It was a self-inflicted spiritual war, a rebellion against his own nature.
Pain, unlike anything the curse's claws had inflicted, seared through him as his cursed energy was forcibly converted, molecule by agonizing molecule.
The curse, descending for the kill, froze mid-air. A palpable aura, thick and heavy, blasted from Sora's kneeling form. It wasn't the cold, malevolent energy of a sorcerer. It was warm, vibrant, and overwhelmingly alive. The air itself seemed to hum, to crackle with a positive, life-affirming power that was anathema to its very existence.
Sora threw his head back and screamed. It was not a sound of pain or fear, but of violent, painful rebirth. The gash on his arm, which had been pouring blood, began to knit itself shut with a sickening, wet, tearing sound.
Flesh and muscle writhed and merged at an impossible speed. The deep cut on his leg bubbled and sealed over. The three parallel scratches on his cheek vanished as if they were never there.
The curse stared, its glowing claws dimming not in shock, but in primal terror. It was witnessing a power it could not comprehend, a force that directly negated its own cursed existence.
Sora slowly pushed himself to his feet, his body trembling uncontrollably from the aftershock of the transformation.
The lightheadedness was gone, replaced by a searing clarity. He met the curse's wide, terrified gaze, his chest heaving, a feral grin spreading across his now-unblemished face.
The silent, charged moment was shattered. In its place was a new, undeniable truth.
The hunter was going to be hunted.
The fierce and chaotic desire to live burned through him.
He focused, forcing the negative, corrosive energy of his curse enrgy to reverse, to transform into the positive, life-giving energy of Reverse Cursed Technique.
The massive hammer dissolved into a pool of liquid that seeped back into the floor.
His reserves of cursed energy were nearly depleted, the tell-tale layer of invisible liquid that usually coated his skin gone, leaving him looking pale and exhausted—but whole.
The curse stared, its glowing claws dimming for a fraction of a second in what could only be shock. Sora met its gaze, his chest heaving. No words were needed. In that silent, charged moment, both sorcerer and curse understood the same thing.
Whether they wanted to live or win, it would be decided now.
The curse took a more safe approach.
It weaved attack combinations and slowing tried to tire the sorcerer to death.
Sora was dodging the strikes at minimal movement. However damage was still being done.
He kept his focus on the curse, trying to find a weakspot or blindspot.
The curse was relentless in its strike, not giving a proper chance to breath.
Sora was slowly losing consciousness.
He had to kill it before he losses consciousness.
He materialized a bat and swung at the head of the curse.
The curse, sensing the danger, leaps back.
Sora now had a completely open front with no defence.
The curse took this opportunity and crossed slashed at him.
That sight could tell the end is near.
Sora however grinned with blood flowing out from his mouth.
The curse was chilled for the first time.
Grinning? In the face of Death?
The slash was just few inches away from making Sora to So/ra.
But that never happened.
Liquid metal surged from the abdomen and hardened. Thanks to the Reversed Cursed Energy.
The blade like claw was stuck in the liquid metal. The curse couldn't move.
It met the gaze of the Sorcerer.
Sora was grinning like a monkey and had his hand raised with a metal gauntlet.
*BANG
Sora punched the ugly head.
He also released the liquid metal on his abdomen.
The curse flew for a moment and fell down, with the gauntlet still on his head.
It tried to get back up.
"Puncture."
The gauntlet swelled and deformed. Then it made several protruding spikes, killing the curse.
The darkened surroundings clear up.
Sora stood there with one of his hand curled into a fist.
He raised it over his head.
"I WON!"
And yelled.
Sora felt relieved and decided to return home and sleep.
But the lightheadedness didn't die down.
He coated and a layer of liquid metal on his body and ran back with the bag he had thrown earlier.