Chapter 6: Conviction

The Next Day

The dorm room walls at Jujutsu High felt too close, too heavy.

Cyan paced back and forth, her boots scuffing the wooden floor.

“I’m going to die!! I’m going to die!” she wailed, clutching her head like it might explode.

Megumi leaned against the wall, arms crossed, expression caught somewhere between concern and irritation.

“Panicking isn’t going to help.”

Cyan spun on him, eyes wide. “You didn’t see the way he looked at me! He’s a Liebert — he probably eats people like me for breakfast!”

Megumi opened his mouth, but Elle cut in.

Her hand cracked lightly across Cyan’s cheek. Not hard — just enough to shock her into stillness.

Cyan froze, her palm flying to the sting. “Ow—”

Elle’s tone was sharp, precise.

“Listen. You fucked up by eating that finger. And now, you’re faced with two options.”

She turned her back and started walking toward the door, voice echoing off the walls.

“Either die now… or do something about it.”

Cyan stood there, stunned. The words landed heavier than the slap.

Her throat tightened. “But he’s stronger than me,” she whispered. “I could sense it. He’s probably a Special Grade.”

Elle stopped, glanced over her shoulder, and smirked.

 “So are you.”

Cyan blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Elle stepped closer, her eyes sharp, cutting past Cyan’s doubts.

“You have the Shadow Garden. And you’re the vessel to the most feared sorcerer in history. Don’t act like you’re powerless.”

For the first time, Cyan saw it — not mockery in Elle’s eyes, but recognition.

Elle wasn’t talking down to her.

She was looking at her like she once looked at herself: young, reckless, desperate to prove she belonged.

Elle’s voice softened just a fraction.

"Trust in your conviction. He said impress him. Not beat him.”

Cyan’s chest tightened, but this time not from fear.

Her lips curved into a shaky grin.

“…Right. Let’s kick some ass.”

Megumi’s hand dragged down his face, his patience visibly thinning.

“…How did we get from ‘I’m going to die’ to ‘let’s kick ass’ in under a minute?”

Cyan threw him a grin. “Adaptability.”

Megumi muttered, “More like insanity.”

Elle just smiled faintly and leaned against the doorframe, satisfied.

 

Sparring Match: Dean vs Cyan

 

The training arena beneath HQ was carved into the mountain itself — a vast underground chamber reinforced with layered barriers.

The floor was smooth stone, marked with faint sigils that glowed whenever cursed energy touched them.

Torches burned blue along the walls, their light unable to chase away the shadows.

Cyan stood at the center, hands clammy, heart pounding against her ribs.

Across from her, Dean Liebert adjusted the cuff of his black uniform like this was nothing more than a boardroom debate extended into physical form.

His posture was casual, but the weight of his presence pressed down like an iron lid.

Above, Elle and Megumi watched from a balcony — Elle with arms folded, Megumi tense, ready to intervene if things went too far.

Dean’s voice cut across the silence, precise and cool.

“Your Shadow Garden is a once-in-three-hundred-years rarity. In theory, one of the most versatile techniques in existence. But in practice—” He let the pause hang, then smirked. “—you’re a child playing with matches.”

Cyan clenched her fists.

“Then let me burn.”

Dean raised one hand lazily, and the world seemed to tilt. Cyan’s vision blurred — walls rippled, the torches twisted into spirals of light.

An illusion.

Information Overload.

Cyan gritted her teeth, forcing herself to breathe.

She closed her eyes, relying on instinct rather than sight.

When she opened them, the illusions warped into nothing. He was still there, waiting, smiling faintly as if testing her composure.

“Good. You can see past the first layer.”

He was in front of her before she even registered the movement.

His hand brushed her shoulder, and Cyan’s body jolted like she’d been stabbed with ice.

Dean’s eyes flickered pale, data streaming into him like rushing water.

 “Huh, so that’s how the Garden works..”

Cyan gasped, shoving him back, shadows rippling outward from her feet in reflex.

The floor darkened, spreading outward like ink in water.

The Shadow Garden activated — a dome of living shadow enveloped the arena, swallowing torchlight, muting sound.

For the first time, Dean looked mildly intrigued.

“…So the rumours are true then.”

Cyan’s breathing steadied as she felt power surge around her.

The arena was hers now.

She pressed her hands to the ground, shadows lashing outward. One surged up behind Dean, but his body blurred — and he reappeared five steps to the left.

“Teleportation,” he noted. “Predictable, but dangerous.”

Cyan smirked despite herself. “Predictable enough to tag you.”

She snapped her fingers, and the shadow he’d just dodged rippled — pulling him half an inch off-balance.

At the same time, gravity shifted under his feet.

The stone groaned as the localized pull dragged him sideways, almost slamming him into the wall.

Dean steadied himself, brushing off his jacket as though gravity meant nothing.

 “Impressive, but not enough.”

He clapped his hands once, and suddenly a shadow rose behind Cyan — her own technique, mirrored.

She barely rolled aside as her own gravitational pull slammed into the ground where she’d stood.

Dean’s smile sharpened. “Copying is so educational.”

Cyan’s eyes widened.

He copied it… but how?

From above, Megumi gripped the railing.

“Cyan—don’t let him touch you again! He only needs contact once to copy—”

Dean’s gaze flicked up. “Shhh.”

Megumi’s throat locked, voice vanishing mid-warning.

Cyan swallowed hard, sweat dripping down her temple.

She’d walked into the lion’s den, and now her own shadows were hunting her.

But she remembered Elle’s words. Impress him, not beat him.

Her hand trembled, then steadied. 

“Fine. Then I’ll show you what the Shadow Garden really looks like.”

She lowered her stance, planting her feet firmly into the ground.

Shadows pooled beneath her like water, seeping outward.

Her lips parted, and in a low, unwavering voice, she began to chant:

 

“Darkness that shelters the weary…

Silence that devours the unworthy…

Let this soil of night bear my conviction.”

 

Her eyes glowed with a fierce light as the ground beneath her cracked open into black roots and roses. She raised her hand, shadows spiralling around her body like a crown.

 

“Domain Expansion — The Night Garden!”

 

The world inverted.

The field dissolved into endless night, filled with roses carved from shadows and thorns dripping cursed energy.

 The silence of the domain fell like a heavy curtain, cutting off sound and sight, until only Cyan’s will remained.

The arena darkened further, as every corner of the dome thickened into living shadow. Gravity bent, space twisted, illusions faltered.

For the first time,

Dean stopped smiling.

The barrier of shadows swallowed the training field whole.

Megumi’s eyes widened. “A Domain Expansion… she can already use it?”

Beside him, Elle’s lips curved into the faintest smirk.

 “This girl… is something else.”

Inside, Dean stood in the middle of a void.

The ground beneath his feet pulsed like living ink, and above him stretched a canopy of roses made from shadows, their petals dripping darkness into the air. 

A garden of night bloomed endlessly around him.

Dean turned slowly, awe flashing across his face.

 “This… is truly magnificent.”

Cyan’s voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere.

 “Welcome to my Night Garden.”

In this space, his sight flickered out like a candle, his hearing drowned beneath the weight of silence. Every breath he took was heavy, gravity itself twisting against him.

Shadows lashed forward—hands, roots, blades—binding, teleporting, swallowing any cursed energy he sent out.

Dean chuckled even as sweat ran down his brow. “So this is what you are… Cyan.”

Just as a dozen shadow-bindings closed in, his own cursed energy surged.

His grin widened.

“Then allow me to show you mine—Domain Expansion: The Night Garden.”

Cyan froze. “What?!”

Darkness split against darkness, his domain overlapping hers.

The two gardens crashed, thorns and roses tearing at each other, shadows bending and cracking as cursed energy screamed against cursed energy.

The void shattered like glass until both domains collapsed into nothingness, leaving the two sorcerers standing across from one another, panting, the air charged with residual energy.

Cyan clutched her chest, heart pounding. Why… am I enjoying this so much?

She straightened, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You’re… an amazing sorcerer. Truly.”

Dean blinked, then let out a laugh—light, genuine, and almost relieved.

“So are you. You’ve definitely left an impression on me.” His eyes gleamed with exhilaration.

“And I can see you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

Dean slowly walked toward her, each step echoing against the polished floor.

Cyan raised her head, expecting another harsh critique, another dismissal. Instead, he extended his hand to her.

 

“Welcome to Jujutsu High,” Dean said, his tone even but carrying a weight that made her chest tighten.

“Don’t mistake this for mercy. You impressed me today. But one step out of line, and your execution will be immediate.”

 Cyan’s eyes widened.

For a moment, she froze.

Then, hesitantly, she reached out—her battered, trembling hand closing around his.

 Behind her, Megumi exhaled the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Elle allowed herself the smallest of smiles.

 

Cyan thought,

I did it… I proved I belong here.

 

Somewhere else…

The waves at the V&A Waterfront lapped against the piers, soft and indifferent.

Tourists were long gone, but the neon lights still glowed on the polished glass of the shops and restaurants.

A body lay slumped against the railing—broad shoulders, expensive suit, rings on thick fingers. 

One of the Abrahams family’s senior councilmen, the kind of man people whispered about but never looked in the eye.

 

Two thin silver needles stuck out of his neck, gleaming faintly under the streetlights. 

Blood dripped down the collar of his shirt, staining the fabric dark. His lifeless eyes stared out at the harbour, wide in shock.

 

In the shadows, footsteps echoed. A figure crouched by the corpse, hands pressed together in a mock prayer. The cursed user. His voice was a low rasp, each word deliberate.

 

“Maak oop die weg… maak oop die weg… maak oop die weg.”

Cursed energy leaked from his skin like smoke, coiling and splitting into countless ghostly shapes.

They hissed and shrieked before scattering into the night sky, streaming out across Cape Town in all directions.

 

The story was only beginning……