Chapter 20: Shadows vs Blood

Fugaku smirked as Cyan emerged from the shadow.

“So that’s it,” he said.
“The infamous Shadow Garden.”

He stepped closer, deliberately slow.

“Sad,” he continued, “that it’s wasted on someone like you.”

Then he spat.

The saliva landed on her shadow.

Cyan didn’t react.

She inhaled.

Exhaled.

And remembered Jaden’s voice.

The strongest don’t overpower their opponents.

They break them.

Fugaku clapped his hands.

“Blood Convergence.”

The air screamed as compressed blood tore forward.

Cyan vanished.

The attack ripped through empty space.

She reappeared behind him—

—and his hand snapped out instantly, catching her wrist mid-motion.

“Predictable,” Fugaku sasaid.

But Cyan didn’t pull away.

She rotated.

Her body twisted around his arm, legs scissoring upward as she locked into a flying armbar, momentum dragging them sideways.

Fugaku grunted, feet sliding across the stone.

In the stands, Megumi leaned forward.

“She’s holding her own.”

But Fugaku’s veins bulged grotesquely beneath his skin.

Blood surged.

His eyes burned red.

With a snarl, he lifted Cyan clean off the ground—

—and drove her straight down.

The impact shattered stone.

Dust erupted.

Cyan’s vision blurred for a split second as pain tore through her back.

Fugaku stood over her, breathing hard.

Still smiling.

But something had changed.

He hadn’t shaken her.

And he knew it.

Fugaku stood over Cyan, chest rising and falling sharply.

She was laughing- a broken sound that crawled under his skin.

His expression twisted.

He brought his foot down hard.

The impact drove the air from her lungs. Blood burst from her mouth, splattering the stone.

Again.

Again.

And again.

Each stomp heavier than the last.

The crowd shifted uneasily.

Megumi’s hand trembled at his side.

Ava said nothing.
Nathan’s jaw was locked tight.

In the VIP box, Elle watched without blinking.

Cyan’s face was bloodied now — a fresh scar carved across her cheek.

Still laughing.

She pushed herself upright.

Kusakabe’s voice cut through the tension. “Can you continue?”

Cyan wiped blood from her mouth with the back of her hand.

She smiled.

“He hasn’t broken my will yet.”

Something in Fugaku snapped.

“You—bitch!”

Blood surged.

A sea of it rose behind him, crashing forward like a living tsunami.

Cyan closed her eyes.

Breathed in.

Then flicked a knife upward.

As it spun through the air, she dropped backward—

—into the shadow cast by a passing cloud.

The blood wave tore through nothing.

High above the arena, Cyan reappeared — directly beneath the falling blade.

She caught it.

Her voice was steady.

“Shadow Garden—”

The air folded.

“Gravity Fold.”

She thrust both hands downward.

The force hit Fugaku like the weight of the world.

His body slammed into the stone, pinned, bones screaming as gravity crushed him flat.

Cyan dropped.

Her fist came down wrapped in warped space and crushing pressure—

—and everything went dark.

She staggered back, breathing ragged, clutching her ribs.

Barely standing.

She glanced at the unconscious body beneath her.

“…Not bad,” she whispered.

“Right, Jaden?”

Then she collapsed.

Silence.

Kusakabe swallowed.

“Winner,” he announced slowly, “Cyan Mowbray.”

The board lit up.

Japan: 1
South Africa: 2

The barrier around the VIP box hummed softly as the representatives of Japan and South Africa gathered around the fractured table.

Dust still clung to the arena below.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then the Zenin clan head broke the silence.

“Three matches,” he said, fingers steepled. “And not one of them went as expected.”

The Kamo elder exhaled through his nose. “Jason Mowbray’s technique is… brutal. But effective.”

“Momentum,” the Gojo clan head said lightly. “Crude in theory, but terrifying in practice.”

Dean leaned back in his chair. “He weaponized physics. That’s not crude, that's intelligence.”

Tengen’s presence stirred faintly within the chamber, unseen but undeniable.

“And Kevin,” the Zenin head continued, eyes narrowing. “Domain amplification… localized to his feet. That level of precision at his age—”

“—is abnormal,” the Kamo elder finished.

Phillip nodded slowly. “He shouldn’t have been able to pull that off.”

Elle smirked, resting her chin in her palm.
“And yet he did.”

Her gaze shifted toward Yuki Gojo, who stood silently near the back.

“Not bad kid,” Elle said. “Your Six Eyes aren’t identical to my Prism Eyes… but they’re close.”

Yuki smiled faintly. “High praise from the strongest sorcerer alive, I'm honored.”

Then—

The atmosphere changed.

Tengen spoke.

“And there's Cyan Mowbray.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Every eye turned—some wary, some calculating.

“She is,” Tengen continued evenly, “a talented sorcerer. Her use of the Shadow Garden technique was really something to behold.”

Phillip’s shoulders tightened.

“It is… unfortunate,” Tengen added, “that such potential resides in a vessel.”

Silence.

Dean leaned forward slightly.
“South Africa has everything under control.”

The Gojo clan head chuckled.

“Do you?” he asked pleasantly.

“Because from where I’m standing… some fingers seem to have gone missing from the South African headquarters.”

The words landed like a blade.

Phillip stiffened.
The Zenin head’s smile vanished.
The Kamo elder’s eyes widened a fraction.

Dean’s head snapped toward him.

“…How do you know about that?”

Before the Gojo head could answer—

The table exploded.

Wood, glass, and cursed reinforcement shattered as Elle slammed his face straight through it, pinning him down with one hand.

The barrier shrieked under the sudden surge of cursed energy.

“Careful,” Elle said calmly.

“You forgot your place.

“For your information,” she continued, leaning closer, “you don’t observe South Africa.”

Phillip moved instantly, hands raised.
“Elle—enough.”

She held the Gojo head there one second longer—

Then released him.

The room remained frozen.

No one spoke.

No one dared.

Tengen’s presence settled again, heavier than before.

“This generation,” Tengen said, through the tension,
“is approaching a threshold.”

Images flickered faintly above the table Jason, Kevin, Cyan, Yuki, Ryo and Fugaku.

“More prodigies are emerging than in any era since the Heian period.”

“A surge of special-grade potential.” Tengen continued.

The Zenin clan head swallowed.

“The Gojo, Zenin, and Kamo clans,” Tengen said, without emotion,

“will comply with any new regulations imposed by the South African Jujutsu Society.”

No argument followed.

No objections were raised.

Because….—

The balance of power had shifted.

And everyone in the room knew it.

Kyoto Jujutsu Headquarters

Kyoto burned in silence.

The headquarters stood hollowed out, its ancient halls painted in blood and broken wards. The barrier systems—once layered and absolute—lay shattered like glass beneath cursed interference.

Bodies littered the floors.

Sorcerers. Assistants. Administrators.

Some were cut cleanly in half.

Others lay twisted, crushed by attacks that had never reached their intended target.

In the courtyard, the last line of defenders fought desperately.

Steel clashed. 

Cursed energy flared.

And failed.

A girl in her early twenties walked through them.

Every strike aimed at her—blades, techniques, even domains-in-formation—bent away at the last moment. Slashes curved off course. Blasts ricocheted into allies. One sorcerer screamed as his own attack tore through his chest.

Probability itself rejected them.

Those who adapted were slower.

She wasn’t.

She moved with surgical precision, carving through flesh and bone, leaving limbs scattered across the stone like discarded tools. Blood pooled beneath her boots, but she never slipped.

When it was over, no one was left standing.

She stepped over the bodies and exited the compound calmly.

Outside, night air greeted her.

Waiting near the steps was Aiden—hands in his pockets, chewing lazily as he slurped ramen from a paper cup. Steam curled upward into the cold Kyoto sky.

Aiden glanced up.

“You want some?” he asked around a mouthful.

The girl didn’t answer.

She tossed him a black, rune-etched box.

He caught it easily.

Aiden studied it for a moment, eyes gleaming faintly.

“…Nice work,” he said. “With this, we should finally be able to seal Elle.”

The girl wiped blood from her cheek with the back of her hand.

“What’s next?” she asked flatly.

Aiden finished his ramen, tossed the cup aside—and reached into his coat.

Eight shrivelled fingers dropped into her hands.

They pulsed.

Alive.

“Now,” Aiden said casually, “we find the vessel in Tokyo.”

“And we feed these to her.”

The girl’s fingers tightened around the relics.

“…Will that bring Jaden back?” she asked quietly.

Aiden shook his head.

“Not fully.”

Then he smiled.
“But it’ll give him temporary control.”

That was enough.

She pressed the fingers to her chest, eyes closing as if in prayer.

“…I’ll see you soon,” she whispered.

Then she turned.

And vanished into the darkness.

Behind her, Kyoto lay dead.

Ahead—

Tokyo waited.

And the game had officially begun.