I sit on the throne as dawn breaks.
Something feels off.
The fly-headed curses are restless, darting toward the eastern hills and back again, wings buzzing louder than usual. The little shadow imps keep glancing the same way, claws tapping nervously on the floor.
I feel it too — a vague pressure in the distance. Like eyes on my back. That old fear of being hunted.
For a moment I almost stand up and send my shards out to sweep the hills.
Then I stop myself.
No. It's nothing.
Just paranoia. I'm stronger now. I have a throne. I have a court. No one would dare come this close without me sensing them.
I push the feeling aside.
What I can't ignore is the hunger.
It's been growing since last night. A deep, hollow ache in my core. Not just for shards — for something warm. Something living.
The fly-heads feel it too. They keep circling me, then the door, then back to me. They're getting impatient.
That must be what the bad feeling is. Our hungers mixing together.
I rise from the throne. The old wood groans beneath me. My long porcelain limbs unfold with a series of sharp cracks.
"Come," I rasp, voice still rough. "We hunt."
The swarm surges after me, a chittering, buzzing wave pouring out of the hall. I lead them down the steps and through the broken gates. Morning mist clings to the ground as we move into the forest. My heavy footsteps shake the earth. Trees creak and snap as I force my way through.
The nearest village isn't far.
I can already smell them — warm bodies, beating hearts, living fear.
My maw opens wider. The hunger sharpens.
The weak curses swarm around my legs, excited, desperate for the same thing I am.
We move faster.
The bad feeling from the hills fades into the background.
There's only the hunt now.
Only the prey waiting in the village ahead.
I don't notice the four faint cursed energy signatures slipping through the trees behind us, keeping perfect distance.
In the treeline, the four watchers moved like ghosts.
Kamo no Jiro crouched low, blood techniques ready but held back. Beside him, Gojo no Kenji kept his Limitless at minimum output, eyes locked on the massive porcelain figure leading the swarm.
The Abe onmyoji, a thin man named Seimei, clutched a stack of talismans and whispered tracking charms under his breath.
The Zenin scout, Rei, melted in and out of the tree shadows, silently relaying positions.
Kamo no Jiro's voice was barely a whisper. "She's moving. Heading southeast toward Akatsuki Village."
Gojo no Kenji's face hardened. "Orders were observe only. But if she reaches that village…"
Rei's shadow flickered. "No time to call for backup. We have to act now."
Seimei was already pulling out communication slips. "I'll send word to the council, but it'll take too long. We need to evacuate the villagers ourselves. Quietly."
Kamo no Jiro nodded. "We split up. Two of us slip into the village ahead of her and warn as many as we can. The other two stay on her tail and keep us updated."
Gojo no Kenji's eyes narrowed. "She's big but slow. We can reach the village first. Some of them won't want to leave — the chief, the blacksmith, a few stubborn farmers. We may have to drag them."
Rei melted into a nearby shadow. "I'll take the eastern side. Start with the bakery and the houses near the well."
Seimei was already writing on his talismans. "I'll handle the western fields. We'll tell them a storm is coming — anything to get them moving without panic."
Kamo no Jiro took one last look at the lumbering porcelain figure.
"Remember — we do not fight her. We save who we can and fall back. If even one of us dies, the council loses valuable intelligence."
The four of them scattered silently through the trees, racing ahead of the monster they were only supposed to watch.
The mist grew thicker as I led my swarm through the trees. The hunger gnawed deeper with every step. The fly-headed curses buzzed louder, excited. They felt it too.
The village should be just ahead.
When we finally stepped out of the treeline, I stopped.
Something was wrong.
The village looked empty, but it didn't feel empty.
Lanterns still burned in the windows. The forge was glowing hot, hammers left on the anvil. Fresh bread scent drifted from the bakery, loaves still warm. Clothes hung on lines, swaying gently. A pot of stew simmered over a fire, steam still rising.
Yet only a handful of people remained.
An old man sweeping his porch. A stubborn farmer refusing to leave his rice paddy. The village chief standing in the square with his arms crossed. Maybe five or six others in total.
My shards spun faster.
The bad feeling slammed back into me, stronger than before.
They knew.
They had been warned.
My jagged maw opened wider. My voice carried low and dangerous across the quiet square.
"…Clever little prey."
The few remaining humans finally saw me.
Screams started — but far fewer than there should have been.
I stepped forward, porcelain cracking the dirt road beneath me.
The chief was the first one I reached. One long stride and I was in front of him. My hand shot out, grabbed him by the ankle, and slammed him to the ground. The sound of his legs snapping echoed across the square — two wet cracks.
He screamed, high and broken.
I stood over him, fingers still wrapped around his shattered ankle. His body twitched. The others — an old woman clutching prayer beads, a muddy farmer on his knees, three small children hiding behind a cart — stared at me in terror.
The hunger inside me burned hotter. My shards spun in restless circles above my head.
The village was too empty. Everything looked like people had left only minutes ago.
I didn't understand how. I didn't know who had done it. But I knew this wasn't normal.
My voice came out low and rough.
"Who told you I was coming?"
The chief shook his head weakly. "N-no one… we didn't know… please…"
I squeezed harder. The second crack of bone was louder. His scream tore through the square.
I leaned closer, my jagged maw hovering just above his face.
"The bread is still warm. The lanterns are still burning. The stew is still steaming. Someone warned you. Someone told you to run."
He gasped through the pain. "Even if someone had… I would never tell you."
My shards spun faster. Hunger and rage mixed 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 body and hovered above him, pulsing.
"Last chance," I rasped. "Tell me who warned you… or I start taking pieces."
The old woman 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, heavier now.
I didn't know who was out there. I didn't know how many.
I only knew this village was wrong, and this man was refusing to tell me why.
My hunger was screaming.
So was my rage.
I tightened my grip.
This time I wasn't stopping at his legs.
The chief was still gasping on the ground, clutching his shattered leg, when I grabbed his right arm.
Crack.
I snapped his forearm like a dry branch. He screamed again, voice cracking and turning hoarse.
I didn't stop.
I grabbed his left arm and twisted until the bones ground and broke. The second scream died in his throat, turning into a choking whimper.
He lay there in the dirt, all four limbs broken, body shaking. Blood pooled under him.
The three children were crying so hard they could barely breathe. The widow had dropped to her knees, face buried in her hands. The blacksmith looked like he wanted to swing his hammer but his legs wouldn't move. The two old farmers were frozen in place, eyes wide with horror.
I crouched over the chief, my jagged porcelain face inches from his. My shards spun so fast they were almost a blur.
My voice came out low and slow, every word thick with hunger and rage.
"This is your last chance."
I pressed one long finger against his chest, right over his heart.
"Tell me who warned you… or I kill you right here. Then I eat the rest of them. The children first."
I leaned closer, maw opening wider so he could see the darkness inside.
"Speak. Or I start feeding."
The chief's whole body trembled. Tears and blood ran down his face. His broken limbs twitched uselessly.
He looked at the crying children, then back at me.
His lips moved… but no words came out.
He was still refusing.
The hunger inside me was screaming now. The bad feeling from the hills pressed down like a weight.
I raised my hand. The black grudge shard pulsed brighter above his chest.
"Last… chance…"
He still said nothing.
I pressed the shard into his chest.
THUNK.
For half a second, nothing happened.
Then the chain reaction tore through him.
CRACK—BOOM—CRACK—BOOM—CRACK—BOOM!
His ribs exploded outward. Blood and bone sprayed across the square. His body jerked violently until the final blast ripped his torso apart.
His head rolled across the dirt and bumped against the well with a soft clack. His eyes were still wide open.
The children's screams turned into raw, piercing shrieks.
The widow collapsed, vomiting violently.
The blacksmith swung his hammer with a desperate roar, but it bounced off my arm with a hollow clang and clattered away.
I rose to my full height. My shards spun so fast they screamed.
My voice echoed across the blood-stained square, low and cold.
"You were warned… and you still chose to stay."
I turned toward the remaining five humans.
Five was nowhere near enough to fill me and my fly-heads.
I raised my hand to the sky and called out, voice carrying across the empty square.
"Come out, my little ones… it is time to feast."
From the treeline came a loud, rising buzz — hundreds of wings beating at once. The fly-headed curses poured out of the forest like a black wave, swarming toward the village with excited clicks and screeches.
The humans' eyes went wide with terror.
The blacksmith tried to be brave. He stepped forward, fists clenched, trying to shield the others.
I was on him in one stride.
I grabbed him by the shoulders, lifted him off the ground, and tore into his chest with my jagged maw. There was a loud crunch, then a wet rip. He let out one choked gasp before going limp.
I ate him right there — big, hungry bites, the sounds of crunching and swallowing loud in the quiet square.
When I dropped what was left, there was almost nothing.
The fly-headed swarm didn't wait.
With a deafening buzz they descended on the others like a storm of teeth and wings.
The widow screamed once before the swarm swallowed her whole.
The two old farmers tried to run but only made it a few steps before the curses overtook them, their cries quickly muffled.
The three children's terrified shrieks were the last to be heard, drowned out by the frantic feeding sounds.
I stood in the middle of the square, shards still spinning, listening to the wet chaos of my fly-heads feasting.
The bad feeling from the hills was still there… but right now I didn't care.
My hunger was finally satisfied.
I'm not full. Just satisfied… for now.
The loud buzzing slowly died down.
The fly-headed curses lifted off one by one, wings wet, bellies rounded. They weren't full, but they were content. Their frantic sounds turned into lazy clicks and soft buzzing.
I stood in the ruined square, shards slowing their spin.
My voice echoed over the silence, low and rasping.
"We are done here. Come… we go back."
The swarm answered with a tired buzz and began drifting after me. I turned and walked back toward the forest, my heavy footsteps thudding against the ground. The fly-heads trailed behind me like a tired black cloud, some still licking their claws.
We disappeared into the treeline, heading back to the Sando Estate.
Meanwhile, deep in the trees, the four sorcerers stayed perfectly still long after we had gone.
None of them moved. None of them spoke for a long time.
Gojo no Kenji finally let out a slow breath.
"…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. The way she kept looking toward the hills… she knew something was off."
Seimei nodded, hands still shaking. "She sensed us. But she didn't know what we were. That's… something, at least."
Gojo no Kenji crossed his arms, eyes fixed on the bloody square in the distance.
"We stay. All seven days, just like the council ordered. We watch her patterns, how fast she grows, how many more curses join her. 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 spots, 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 onto the throne. The old wood groans under me. 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.
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, scraping the wood.
"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.
"They're watching me right now, aren't they?"
I let the question hang in the air.
Then I smile — slow, ugly, jagged.
"Let them watch."
I stretch my long porcelain limbs, joints popping loudly.
"I will grow stronger. I will gather more. And when the time comes…"
My voice drops, cold and certain.
"I will make them regret ever laying eyes on me."
The hall falls quiet again.
Only the soft hum 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 hum of my shards could be heard. The four sorcerers stayed 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, voice low and heavy with 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.
Kamo no Jiro's head snapped toward him, face pale. "And you have the nerve to sound disgusted? 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.
"Come on… really?" His voice was calm, but there was steel under it. "Who do you take me for?"
He leaned back against the tree trunk, arms crossed.
"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 flickered violently. Seimei's talismans crinkled in his 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. "You threatened to massacre an entire village… as a bluff?"
Rei's whisper was sharp. "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 on the distant throne.
"It wasn't a game. 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, then added quietly, "But yes… watching her sit there peacefully after what she did… it doesn't feel any better."
The four of them fell into heavy silence. 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 estate.
"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.