Chapter 7: The Dead speaks

Corpse Pupeteer Arc 

Stikkland Cemetery- Bellville, Cape Town

The graveyard was silent, save for the sound of bones grinding back together.

The cursed user crouched in the dirt, sewing rotten threads across Johan Venter’s mangled frame.

With each stitch, the ghosts he commanded pumped cursed energy into the corpse, forcing it to twitch and shudder toward something like life.

The corpse’s eyes fluttered open, glazed and pale.

Its lips fumbled out broken words.

“Ryu… men…”

Before the cursed user could push further, a new voice broke through the fog.

Calm, measured, almost amused.

“Let’s ask it the right question.”

The cursed user spun around.

A tall figure stood at the edge of the cemetery, his outline draped in black. Needles glinted faintly around him, floating like a crown of thorns.

His steps were unhurried, his presence suffocating.

He crouched beside the corpse, slipping one of his cursed needles into Johan’s chest. The body jolted violently, then spoke with an eerie clarity:

Aiden: “Tell me… who ate one of Ryumen’s fingers?”

The corpse shivered, its throat rattling.

“…A… girl… from the Mowbray family…”

The man’s eyes flickered with surprise. “A Mowbray girl?” His voice carried genuine amusement.

 “Impossible. The Mowbrays never allow their woman to become sorcerers.”

The corpse rasped again, forcing out another word.
“Sha… shadow… Garden…”

Both the cursed user and the man stiffened.

“…She has the Shadow Garden.”

For a moment, silence blanketed the graveyard.

Then the man began to grin.

His grin cracked into laughter—low, sharp, and echoing across the tombstones.

“Of all things…” He pressed a hand to his face, laughing harder. “The cursed world really does have a sense of humour.”

The cursed user’s eyes darted between him and the twitching corpse, unsettled.

Suddenly, Johan’s body convulsed.

The stitches tore open as the cursed energy holding him together collapsed.

With a wet pop, the body burst apart, spraying blood, bone, and entrails across the grass.

The cursed user flinched, spattered red. “Disgusting—!”

The man wiped a smear of gore from his cheek with an almost bored sigh.

“…Tch. I just had this coat cleaned.”

With that, he flicked his fingers.

he cursed needles rose, gleaming in the moonlight, as he turned and walked away—his laughter still trailing behind him.

Whispers on Campus-Part 1

Cyan tightened her bag strap against her shoulder as she walked through the courtyard.

The morning sun warmed the old stone of Jujutsu High, but it couldn’t melt the stares.

Everywhere she turned, students’ eyes lingered on her like needles.

“She’s from the Mowbray family,” one girl whispered, barely masking her curiosity.

“She awakened a forbidden technique…” another voice hissed.

“No—she swallowed a special grade object,” a boy muttered, his tone more fearful than curious.

Cyan’s ears burned.

She heard every word, but kept her head high as though their voices were just wind.

If she reacted, they’d win.

If she broke, they’d see her as the monster Dean had called her.

I won’t give them that satisfaction.

She turned toward the dormitory wing, exhaling slowly.

 Her first lesson had left her drained—too many new faces, too many old names dragging behind her.

All she wanted was to find Megumi and anchor herself in something familiar.

Then she heard him.

“—I told you, I don’t need anyone’s pity!”

Megumi stood at the base of the dorm steps, face sharp with irritation.

Opposite him was a tall, wiry boy with windswept hair and piercing eyes that burned with defiance. His uniform jacket hung loosely off his shoulders, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he glared up at Megumi.

Cyan froze, watching from a few steps away.

The boy’s accent was thicker—Beaufort-West, she realized—and his energy buzzed unpredictably, like dice rattling inside a cup. Her eyes narrowed instinctively; this wasn’t just arrogance.

Beneath the brash façade, a pulse of cursed energy thrummed, strong and precise. He can back it up.

She couldn’t tell if it was his cursed energy or just his temperament.

Megumi’s voice was steady, but edged with warning.

 “You don’t even know what you’re talking about. Stop being reckless, Kevin.”

The boy—Kevin—snorted, leaning closer. “Reckless? That’s rich coming from you? Don’t act like the big shot just because you’re Elle’s pet.”

The tension between them was electric, and Cyan realized she’d stumbled into something heavy.

She took a step forward. “…Megumi?”

Both boys turned.

Megumi’s irritation softened the moment he saw her, while Kevin’s eyes locked onto her with sharp curiosity—then surprise.

“You…” Kevin muttered, his stare narrowing. “You’re the girl everyone’s whispering about.”

Cyan froze under his gaze, unsure if it was accusation or recognition.

Whispers on Campus- Part 2

Kevin’s eyes narrowed on Cyan, sharp with curiosity that quickly hardened into challenge.

“You’re her, right? The Vessel to Ryumen.”

Cyan stiffened but didn’t answer.

He smirked. “Good. Then fight me.”

Cyan blinked, taken aback. “…What?”

Kevin stepped forward, shoulders squared, the restless hum of cursed energy already leaking from his frame.

“I don’t need rumours or excuses. I just want to see what you can really do.”

Cyan’s irritation flared.

“Are you insane? We just met. You haven’t even introduced yourself, and you’re already throwing around challenges?”

He tilted his head, unimpressed.

“Names don’t matter in a fight. Strength does.”

Cyan clenched her fists, trying to rein in her temper.

“I don’t fight strangers for fun.”

Kevin’s eyes burned with unshaken intensity.

“I don’t care about who or what you are. I just want to be the strongest. And if you’re standing in my way, then I need to bring you down.”

The blunt honesty in his tone caught her off guard. He wasn’t mocking her, and he wasn’t being cruel. He was simply declaring his truth—straightforward, unyielding.

For a moment, Cyan saw herself in him.

Her desire to be more than the girl her clan had tried to silence.

Her hunger to prove herself worthy of the Shadow Garden.

“…The strongest, huh?” she muttered, half to herself.

Megumi stepped between them, arms crossed, clearly annoyed.

“That’s enough, Kevin. Picking fights on your first day isn’t how things work here.”

Kevin scoffed but didn’t move his eyes from Cyan.

 “Then she can say no herself.”

Cyan exhaled, steadying her nerves.

She met his gaze evenly now, her earlier annoyance cooling into a cautious respect.

“No. Not today. But…” She hesitated, then smirked faintly. “If you really want to fight, maybe you’ll get your chance when it matters.”

Kevin’s lips curled into a wolfish grin, satisfied enough with that answer.

 “Good. Don’t keep me waiting.”:

The New Squad

Two hours later, the bell rang, signalling the end of classes. Cyan sighed, stretching her sore arms.

First day over… finally.

But before she could head back to her dorm, a message arrived: Report to the principal’s office. Now.

Her stomach tightened. That tone could only belong to Elle.

When she arrived, the room was already occupied. Megumi sat stiffly at one end of the table, and Kevin leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed, smirking.

Their eyes met hers instantly—first sharp, then petty. Cyan narrowed her gaze; Kevin raised his eyebrows in mock challenge.

Elle’s voice cut through before either could speak. “Sit down.”

Cyan obeyed, sliding into a chair, still glaring at Kevin out of the corner of her eye.

Elle clasped her hands on the desk, her tone calm but firm. “From this day forward, the three of you will operate as a team.”

The room erupted.

Cyan slammed her hands on the table. “No way! I can’t be on a team with him. He’s crazy, and—”

Kevin leaned forward with a grin. “You just can’t handle my awesomeness. Besides, I work solo. Always have.”

Megumi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Elle, this is how I know you don’t care about me. If I team up with these two reckless idiots, I’ll die within a week.”

Both Cyan and Kevin turned on him instantly.

“Reckless?!” Cyan barked.

“Idiot?!” Kevin shot back.

The three burst into a chorus of bickering, voices overlapping, accusations flying.

Elle’s jaw tightened.

She raised her hand, and her Prism Eyes glowed faintly.

The walls of the office warped with refracted light, and a crushing pressure pinned the three against the room’s edges.

All protests died instantly.

Elle’s voice was sharp, cold. “Do you know why I personally made this team?”

The three exchanged bewildered looks, unable to move, their voices caught in their throats.

Elle’s gaze slid to Kevin first. “You carry a special grade technique. But your arrogance and recklessness cloud your judgment.”

Then to Cyan. “You also possess a special grade ability, but you struggle between fear and stubbornness.”

Finally, she turned to Megumi. Her tone softened—slightly. “You have the Heavenly Restriction’s blessing, sharp instincts, & natural leadership. But you lack the ambition that these two have.”

The pressure vanished. The three crashed to the ground, gasping, rubbing sore shoulders.

Elle folded her arms. “Alone, you’re all weak. Together, you might just survive. Prove me right.”

She turned her back on them, looking out the window over the campus.

“I have a mission for you. Your first assignment.”

Back at the cemetery, the night had thickened into a suffocating blanket.

The cursed user knelt cross-legged on the damp earth, his hands pressed together in prayer. His eyes were closed, but his body hummed with energy.

A low, guttural chant escaped him.

“Maak oop die weg… maak oop die weg… maak oop die weg…” (open the way in Afrikaans)

With each repetition, the air grew heavier, the fog swirling unnaturally around him.

His cursed energy began to pulse outward, radiating in dark waves that cracked the ground beneath him.

Then, with a final exhale, his body convulsed violently.

 A black, viscous pool of cursed energy spilled from him, spreading across the graveyard like ink in water.

From it, thousands of pale, writhing ghosts emerged, their hollow eyes flickering with eerie light. The cursed user rose slowly, a twisted grin on his face.

“Go,” he commanded. His voice carried over the restless spirits.

“Find the Ryumen’s vessel.”

The ghosts shuddered, then scattered in every direction, vanishing into the night.

Their whispers carried across Cape Town, faint but unmistakable: The vessel… The vessel…

The cursed user sank back to the ground, a satisfied glint in his eye.

Somewhere, far away, the hunt had begun.

Cyan, unaware, walked across the campus, blissfully ignorant that hundreds of unseen eyes now sought her blood.