I sit on the throne as dawn breaks.
Something feels… off.
The weak curses are restless. The fly-headed ones keep buzzing around the hall, darting toward the eastern hills and back again. Their wings sound more frantic than usual. The little shadow imps keep glancing the same way, claws tapping nervously.
I feel it too. A vague pressure in the distance. Like eyes on my back. A bad feeling I cannot quite place.
For a moment I almost rise, almost send my shards out to search.
Then I stop.
No. It is nothing.
Just paranoia. The old fear of being hunted again.
I am stronger now. I have a throne. I have a court. No one would dare come this close without me sensing them clearly.
I push the unease aside.
Instead, I notice something else.
The hunger.
It has been growing since last night. A deep, gnawing emptiness in my core. Not just for shards — for something warmer. Something living.
The fly-headed curses are acting the same way. They keep circling me, then the door, then me again. They are hungry too.
Yes… that must be it.
The bad feeling is simply hunger. Their hunger and mine, mixing together.
I rise from the throne. The wood groans loudly beneath me. My long porcelain limbs unfold with a series of sharp cracks.
"Come," I rasp, voice still rough and broken. "We hunt."
The swarm surges after me eagerly, a chittering, buzzing tide of weak curses pouring out of the hall behind me.
I lead them down the steps and out through the broken gates of the Sando Estate. The morning mist still clings to the ground as we move into the forest. My heavy footsteps shake the earth. Trees creak and snap as my jagged body forces its way through.
The nearest village is not far.
I can already smell them — warm bodies, beating hearts, living fear.
My maw opens wider.
The hunger is sharper now.
The weak curses swarm around my legs, excited, desperate for the same thing I am.
We move faster.
The bad feeling from earlier is already forgotten.
There is only the hunt now.
Only the prey waiting in the village ahead.
And soon… their screams will feed us both
I don't notice the four faint cursed energy signatures slipping through the trees behind us, keeping perfect distance.
Meanwhile, in the treeline
The four watchers moved like ghosts.
Kamo no Jiro crouched low, blood techniques ready but suppressed. Beside him, Gojo no Kenji kept his Limitless active at minimum output, eyes locked on the massive porcelain figure leading the swarm of weak curses.
The Abe onmyoji, a thin man named Seimei, clutched a stack of talismans, whispering tracking charms under his breath.
And the shadow user from the Kurogane clan, a woman named Rei, melted in and out of the tree shadows, relaying positions silently.
Kamo no Jiro's voice was barely a whisper. "She's moving. Heading southeast. That's the direction of Akatsuki Village."
Gojo no Kenji's face hardened. "Orders were clear — observe only. Do not engage. But if she reaches that village…"
Rei's shadow form flickered beside them. "There's no time to call for reinforcements. We have to act now."
Seimei was already pulling out communication slips. "I'll send word to the council, but it'll take minutes to reach them. We need to evacuate the villagers ourselves. Quietly. No panic."
Kamo no Jiro nodded sharply. "We split up. Two of us slip into the village ahead of her. Warn as many as we can, get them into the forest. The other two stay on her tail and keep us updated."
Gojo no Kenji's six eyes narrowed. "She's big, but she's slow. We can get there first if we move now. The stubborn old ones won't want to leave — the village chief, the blacksmith, a few farmers who think they can fight anything. We'll have to drag them if we must."
Rei melted into a nearby shadow. "I'll take the eastern side. Start with the bakery and the homes near the well."
Seimei was already writing rapid characters on his talismans. "I'll handle the western fields. Try to make it look natural — tell them a storm is coming, anything. Just get them moving."
Kamo no Jiro took one last look at the lumbering porcelain figure in the distance.
"Remember — we do not fight her. We save who we can and fall back. If even one of us dies here, the council loses valuable intelligence."
The four scattered silently through the trees, racing ahead of the monster they were supposed to only watch.
Back to the village path
The mist is thicker now. I lead my swarm between the trees, the hunger gnawing deeper with every step. The fly-headed curses buzz louder, excited. They feel it too.
The village should be just ahead.
When we finally step out of the treeline, I stop.
Something is wrong.
The village is… empty.
But it doesn't look empty.
Lanterns still burn in the windows. The forge is glowing hot, hammers left on the anvil like someone just stepped away. Fresh bread scent drifts from the bakery, loaves still warm on the counter. Clothes hang on lines, swaying gently. A pot of stew simmers over a fire, steam rising.
Yet only a handful of people remain.
An old man sweeping his porch. A stubborn farmer refusing to leave his rice paddy. The village chief standing in the square, arms crossed like he's daring the world to move him. Maybe five or six others.
My shards spin faster.
The bad feeling slams back into me, stronger than before. This is not right. This is not normal.
They knew.
They were warned.
My jagged maw opens wider, voice low and dangerous, carrying across the unnaturally quiet village.
"…Clever little prey."
The few remaining humans finally see me.
Screams begin.
But far fewer than there should have been.
I step forward, porcelain cracking the dirt road beneath me.
The few remaining villagers freeze the moment they see me step out of the treeline.
Their screams start — short, sharp, terrified. But there are so few of them. Too few.
I tower over the square, shards spinning violently around my head. The old man drops his broom. The farmer in the paddy stumbles backward into the mud. And the village chief — a stubborn, gray-bearded man — stands his ground, gripping a wooden staff like it could possibly protect him.
My hunger burns hotter now. But so does the rage.
I move.
One long stride and I'm in front of him. My porcelain hand shoots out, fast as a whip. I grab the chief by the ankle and slam him to the ground. The sound of his legs snapping is loud — two wet cracks that echo across the empty square.
He screams, high and broken.
I stood over the village chief, my long porcelain fingers still wrapped around his shattered ankle. The pain had made him stop screaming, but his body kept twitching. The other villagers — an old woman clutching prayer beads, a muddy farmer on his knees, and three small children hiding behind a cart — stared at me in pure terror.
The hunger inside me was growing stronger, gnawing at my core like something alive. My shards spun in slow, restless circles above my head.
I looked down at the chief again. His eyes were wide, his face pale and slick with sweat.
Something still felt… wrong.
The village was too empty. The lanterns were still lit. The bread was still warm. The forge was still hot. It looked like everyone had simply walked away only minutes ago.
I didn't understand how. I didn't know who had done it. I only knew that this was not normal.
My voice came out low and rough, scraping the air.
"Who told you I was coming?"
The chief's breath hitched. He shook his head weakly, lips trembling. "N-no one… we didn't know… please…"
I squeezed.
The second crack of bone was louder than the first. His scream ripped through the square, raw and desperate. When I let go, his leg was twisted at an ugly, unnatural angle.
I leaned closer, jagged maw hovering just above his face.
"The bread is still warm. The lanterns are still burning. The stew still steams. But almost no one is here. Someone warned you. Someone told you to run."
He gasped through the pain, eyes glassy. "Even if… someone had… I would never tell you."
My shards spun faster. The hunger and the unease mixed together until I couldn't tell them apart.
I pressed two fingers against his chest, right over his heart. A single black grudge shard slid out from my own body and hovered above him, pulsing slowly.
"Last chance," I rasped. "Tell me who warned you… or I start taking pieces."
The old woman behind him started sobbing quietly. The children were shaking so hard I could hear their teeth chattering.
The chief looked up at me, blood on his lips, and for the first time I saw real hatred in his eyes.
He smiled through the pain — a small, broken smile.
"…Then take your pieces, monster."
I stared at him.
The bad feeling from the hills was back, stronger now. Pressing down on me like unseen eyes.
I didn't know who was out there.
I didn't know how many.
I only knew that something was wrong with this village… and this man was refusing to tell me why.
My hunger was almost unbearable now.
But so was the rage.
I tightened my grip again.
This time I wasn't going to stop at his legs.
Ten minutes earlier.
The four watchers appeared in the village square like ghosts.
Gojo no Kenji spoke first, voice low and urgent.
"A special-grade curse is coming. Tall porcelain body, black shards floating around its head. It will be here in less than ten minutes. You must leave. Now. Quietly. Through the back paths into the forest."
The village chief blinked, confused. "Then we have to warn—"
"No warnings," Kenji snapped. "If you all run at once it will chase the crowd. Most of you can still slip away if you go right now."
Kamo no Jiro stepped forward, trying to sound calmer. "Please. We're not lying. This thing has already wiped out two entire clans. You need to go."
But the villagers didn't move.
The blacksmith crossed his thick arms. The widow stood in her bakery doorway, frowning. The old farmers exchanged doubtful looks. A few families with small children just stared at the strangers in disbelief.
One of the farmers finally spoke. "You expect us to abandon our homes because four masked outsiders appear out of thin air and tell us a monster is coming? How do we even know you're telling the truth?"
Kenji's expression hardened.
Rei tried to help. "You don't have time to doubt us. Please, just go."
Still, no one moved.
Gojo no Kenji's eyes glowed brighter. His voice dropped, cold and absolute.
"Then hear this. Our mission is vital. It is absolutely critical that this curse does not learn of our existence. If even one of you stays behind and tells that thing we were here — if you breathe a single word about four sorcerers warning you — then we will hunt down every single villager who ran into the forest. Every last one. Men, women, children. We will kill them all."
The square went dead silent.
Kamo no Jiro looked away, jaw tight. Rei's shadow form flickered with clear discomfort. Even Seimei stopped placing talismans for a moment.
The chief's voice shook. "You… you would slaughter innocents just to protect your mission?"
Kenji didn't blink.
"Yes."
He looked slowly around at the stunned faces.
The blacksmith's hammer slipped from his hand and hit the ground with a heavy thud.
The widow's face had gone completely white.
One of the old farmers muttered, "He's insane…"
Kenji kept talking, voice flat.
"Those who believe us — run. Now. Quietly. Those who don't… stay and die. But keep your mouths shut. For the sake of the ones who did listen."
Without another word, the four watchers vanished back into the trees.
Most of the villagers finally started moving — slipping away into the forest with terrified glances over their shoulders.
Only a small handful stayed behind.
The stubborn.
The disbelieving.
The ones who simply refused to trust four strangers who had just threatened to massacre their own people.
Back to the present.
The chief is still gasping on the ground, clutching his shattered leg, when I grab his right arm.
I don't hesitate.
Crack.
The sound is wet and sharp as I snap his forearm like a twig. He screams again, louder this time, the pain ripping through him so hard his voice cracks and turns hoarse.
I don't stop.
I grab his other arm — the left one — and twist it until I feel the bones grind and break. The second scream dies in his throat, turning into a choking, sobbing whimper.
He lies there in the dirt, both legs and both arms broken, body trembling violently. Blood is starting to pool under him.
The three children are crying so hard they can barely breathe. The widow has sunk to her knees, face buried in her hands. The blacksmith looks like he wants to swing his hammer at me but his feet won't move. The two old farmers are frozen, eyes wide with pure horror.
I crouch down over the chief, my jagged porcelain face inches from his. My shards spin so fast above us they're almost a blur.
My voice comes out low, slow, every word dripping with hunger and rage.
"This is your last chance."
I press one long finger against his chest, right over his heart.
"Tell me who warned you about me… or I kill you right here. Then I eat the rest of them. Every last one. The children first."
I lean even closer, my maw opening wider so he can see the darkness inside.
"Speak. Or I start feeding."
The chief's whole body is shaking. Tears and blood mix on his face. His broken limbs twitch uselessly in the dirt.
He looks at the crying children, then back at me.
His lips tremble… but no words come out.
He's still refusing.
The hunger inside me is screaming now. The bad feeling from the hills is crushing down on me like a weight.
I raise my hand slowly, the black grudge shard pulsing brighter and brighter above his chest.
"Last… chance…"
The chief is still gasping on the ground, broken arms and legs twitching uselessly, tears and blood streaking his face. His mouth opens and closes, but no sound comes out.
I wait.
One heartbeat.
Two.
He still says nothing.
My shards spin faster, the low hum turning into a violent bzzzzzz. The hunger and rage have completely mixed together now — I can't tell where one ends and the other begins.
I press the black grudge shard harder against his chest.
"Then you chose this."
THUNK.
The shard sinks into his body.
For half a second, nothing happens.
Then —
CRACK—BOOM—CRACK—BOOM—CRACK—BOOM!
The chain reaction rips through him like lightning. His ribs explode outward with wet, shattering cracks. Each blast is louder than the last — BOOM—CRACK—SPLAT — blood and bone spraying across the square like someone dropped a sack of wet meat. His body jerks violently, limbs flailing, until the final explosion tears his torso apart with a sickening SHRRRIIIPPP.
His head rolls across the dirt with a dull thud-thud-thud, stopping against the well with a soft clack. His eyes are still wide open.
The three children's screams turn into raw, piercing shrieks — "EEEEEEEEEE!"
The widow collapses with a heavy thump, vomiting loudly — HURRRK—HURRRK.
The blacksmith swings his hammer with a desperate roar — "RAAAAHHH!" — but it bounces off my arm with a hollow CLANGGGGG and clatters across the ground.
I rise slowly to my full height. My shards are spinning so fast they're almost screaming — VRRRRRRRRRRR.
My voice echoes across the blood-stained square, low and cold, every word dripping with rage.
"You were warned… and you still chose to stay."
I turn my jagged maw toward the remaining five humans.
I stand tall over what's left of the village chief, blood still dripping from my fingers with soft plip… plip… plip onto the dirt.
My shards keep spinning — VRRRRRRRRR — loud and angry.
I look at the five terrified people still standing in the square. The widow on her knees, sobbing. The blacksmith shaking, the two old farmers frozen, and the three small children clinging to each other, crying.
I tilt my head, my jagged maw opening wider.
"Five… is not nearly enough to fill me and my fly-heads."
I pause, letting the words sink in.
"No matter," I rasp, voice low and hungry. "It will have to do for now."
I raise my hand toward the sky and call out, my voice echoing across the empty square.
"Come out, my little ones… it is time to feast!"
From the treeline behind me comes a loud, rising BZZZZZZZZZZZZ — the sound of hundreds of wings beating at once. The fly-headed curses pour out of the forest like a black wave, swarming toward the village with excited screeches and clicks.
The humans' eyes go wide with terror.
The blacksmith tries to be brave. He steps forward, fists clenched, trying to shield the others.
I move.
One long stride and I'm on him.
I grab him by the shoulders, lift him off the ground, and rip into his chest with my jagged maw. There's a loud CRUNCH, then a wet tear as I tear through him. He lets out one short, choked gasp before going limp.
I don't waste time.
I devour him right there — big, hungry bites, the sound of crunching and swallowing loud in the quiet square. CRUNCH… CRUNCH… GULP.
When I drop what's left of him, there's almost nothing remaining.
The fly-headed swarm doesn't wait any longer.
With a deafening BZZZZZZZZZZ! they descend on the others like a storm of teeth and wings.
The widow screams once — high and desperate — before the swarm swallows her whole.
The two old farmers try to run, but they only make it a few steps before the curses overtake them, their cries quickly muffled.
The three children's terrified shrieks are the last to be heard, quickly drowned out by the loud, frantic buzzing and feeding sounds of the swarm.
I stand in the middle of the square, shards still spinning, listening to the wet, chaotic sounds of my fly-heads feasting.
The bad feeling from the hills is still there… but right now, I don't care.
My hunger is finally being satisfied,
I'm not full, just satisfied… for now
The loud buzzing slowly dies down.
The fly-headed curses lift off the ground one by one, wings still wet, bellies rounded. They're not full, but they're satisfied for now. Their frantic feeding sounds turn into lazy, content clicks and soft buzzing.
I stand in the middle of the ruined square, shards slowing their spin.
My voice echoes over the silence, low and rasping.
"We are done here. Come… we go back."
The swarm answers with a tired but obedient BZZzzzzz… and begins drifting after me. I turn and start walking back toward the forest, my heavy footsteps thud… thud… thud shaking the ground. The fly-heads trail behind me like a tired black cloud, some of them still licking their claws.
We disappear into the treeline, heading back to the Sando Estate.
Meanwhile, deep in the trees
The four sorcerers stayed perfectly still long after the Porcelain Onryo and her swarm had vanished.
None of them moved. None of them spoke for a long time.
Gojo no Kenji finally let out a slow breath. His voice was quiet, but there was clear relief in it.
"…None of them gave us up."
Kamo no Jiro looked at him, still pale. "You threatened to kill the rest of the village if they did. Of course they didn't talk."
Kenji didn't flinch. "And it worked. That's what matters. The mission is still clean. She has no idea we were here."
Rei's shadow flickered. "She felt something. I'm sure of it. The way she kept looking toward the hills… she knew something was off."
Seimei nodded, hands still shaking. "She definitely sensed us. But she didn't know what we were. That's… something, at least."
Gojo no Kenji crossed his arms, eyes still fixed on the bloody square in the distance.
"We stay. All seven days, just like the council ordered. We watch her patterns, we watch how fast she grows, we watch how many more curses join her. We do not leave early. We do not report early. We finish the mission."
He looked at the other three, voice firm.
"None of the villagers betrayed us. That's the only good news today. Everything else… we report in seven days. Not before."
The four of them settled back into their hiding positions, faces grim.
The screams and buzzing were still fresh in their ears.
But at least the mission hadn't been compromised.
Yet.
I sink back into the throne, the old wood groaning loudly beneath me — creeeeeeak.
The fly-heads are quiet now, curled up around the base like sleepy dogs. Their soft little clicks and tired buzzing are the only sounds in the hall.
I sit there for a long time, shards drifting lazily around my head with a gentle vrrrr… vrrrr…
Then I speak, voice low and rasping, barely louder than a whisper.
"They were ready for me… but they still stayed silent."
I slowly drag one jagged finger along the armrest, the sound sharp against the wood — skrrrrrrtch.
"Even as I tore their chief apart… even as I fed… none of them said a word. Not one."
A low, broken chuckle slips out of my maw.
"Stubborn little prey. I wonder what they were promised… or what they were threatened with."
I lean my head back, staring up at the shattered roof where sunlight cuts through.
"Someone moved them. Someone warned them. Someone who can move without being seen… someone who can reach a village before I do."
My shards pick up speed just a little — vrrrrrrrrr — as the thought settles.
"They're watching me right now, aren't they?"
I let the question hang in the air.
Then I smile. A slow, ugly, jagged smile.
"Let them watch."
I stretch my long porcelain limbs, the joints popping loudly — crack… crack… crack.
"I will grow stronger. I will gather more. And when the time comes…"
My voice drops into something cold and certain.
"I will make them regret ever laying eyes on me."
The hall falls quiet again.
Only the soft vrrrr of my shards and the gentle breathing of the fly-heads remains.
I close my eyes and rest.
But deep inside my cracked chest, the rage is already sharpening into something new.
Something patient.
Something far more dangerous.
The forest was deathly quiet.
Only the faint rustle of leaves and the distant, gentle vrrrr… vrrrr… of the Porcelain Onryo's orbiting shards could be heard. The four sorcerers remained frozen in their hiding spots, barely breathing, eyes locked on the ruined estate in the distance.
On her stolen throne, the monster sat perfectly still. Not a single movement. As if the slaughter in the village had been nothing more than an afternoon stroll.
Gojo no Kenji finally broke the silence, his voice low, heavy, and laced with barely contained disgust.
"…She's just sitting there. Resting. Like she didn't just rip six people apart and feed them to her swarm."
The words hung in the air like smoke.
Kamo no Jiro's head snapped toward him. His face was pale, eyes burning with a mix of rage and disbelief.
"And you have the nerve to sound disgusted?" he hissed. "You were the one who stood in that square and threatened to slaughter every man, woman, and child who ran into the forest! You told them you'd hunt them all down if even one person spoke! So tell me, Kenji — why the hell do you suddenly care now?"
A long, tense beat passed.
Gojo no Kenji slowly turned his head. For a moment he said nothing, letting the accusation sit between them.
Then a quiet, bitter scoff escaped him.
"Come on… really?" His voice was calm, almost casual, but there was steel underneath. "Who do you take me for?"
He leaned back against the thick tree trunk, arms crossing over his chest.
"I know the Gojo clan has a bad name. I know what people say about us. But I was bluffing."
The other three froze.
Rei's shadow form flickered violently. Seimei's talismans crinkled in his tightening grip.
Kenji continued, voice steady.
"I needed them quiet. I needed them scared. The threat worked. That's all it was — a threat. I would never actually hunt down women and children. Never."
Kamo no Jiro stared at him like he'd been slapped.
"You threatened to massacre an entire village… as a bluff?" His voice cracked with disbelief. "Do you have any idea how that sounded? How it felt standing there listening to you say those words?"
Rei's whisper was sharp, full of venom. "You terrified those people. Children were crying. And it was all just a game to you?"
Gojo no Kenji didn't flinch. His eyes stayed locked on the distant throne.
"It wasn't a game," he said quietly. "It was necessary. And it worked. None of them gave us up. Even when she was tearing their chief apart, none of them talked. That's what matters."
He paused, the weight of the next words sinking in.
"But yes… watching her sit there peacefully after what she did… it doesn't feel any better."
The four of them fell into a heavy silence once more. The wind whispered through the leaves. Somewhere far off, a bird called once and went quiet.
Seimei finally spoke, voice barely audible.
"Six more days of this. Six more days of watching that thing rest, grow stronger, and do whatever it pleases… while we do nothing."
Kamo no Jiro looked down at his hands, still trembling slightly.
"I don't know how I'm supposed to sit here for six more days after what I just saw."
Gojo no Kenji's gaze never left the Porcelain Onryo.
"None of us do," he said softly.
"But we have no choice."
The four sorcerers remained hidden in the shadows, eyes fixed on the monster sleeping peacefully on her throne — completely at ease after the massacre.
The weight of everything they had witnessed pressed down on them like a mountain.
And the worst part was…
They still had six days left to watch.