Chapter 44: Cruel Angel & King of Binding Vows

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A/N: 20k Words, I destroyed those exams, and now have a 2 week break. :)

Expect the next chapter to come out fast at around 20k words, wanted to combine them into 40k, but the amount of scenes I have to write is lowk A LOT.

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Trudging through the snow was something he was familiar with. There was nothing that had ever stopped him in his steps ever since he had arrived into this world, neither the might of a dragon-slaying sword ready to split him in twain, nor the face of the Divine General. A small force of nature in a cold field land wasn't anything to bat an eye over.

The wheel above his head was a lighthouse, lighting up the path ahead indiscriminately. Any darkness that dared rear their ugly heads toward the wielder of such a divine artifact had themselves vanquished within a moment's notice. All that remained was endless snow, an uncarved path which could lead to nowhere.

Megumi's head turned toward his right. Despite the azure fog blanketing the entire landscape, he knew that location as if it were a familiar childhood memory. However, he would never place it in there with them, it was merely the desperate attempt to wrestle survival into his arms which had found its place in his hippocampus.

Misty clouds left his lips, travelling across his cheek and through his black hair, before travelling back to nature's embrace, wherein it would become its morning bride. There was always an appreciation for nature that he held, but all it boiled down to was a temporary serenity that he found in its silence. There were many atrocities in which the force could commit, he was not one to turn his head nor heel away from them.

By all means, he had been fighting against nature's force ever since his conception into a collapsing and capricious society. The blood of many young people were stained on the structure he once stood, their coagulated liquid life having provided enough of a support to keep the structures of cinder blocks attached.

Breaking out his thoughts, the black haired man felt the weight of all the Shikigamis in his shadows start to take its toll. A method of training, for both the physical and spiritual body was extremely effective. Although he doubted he would be able to reach Laurentina—an Abyssal Hunter's level of strength—it would serve to thin the gap by a small margin. After all, removing weights which pulled somebody down would bolster speeds to an extraneous level, as the burdens of pressure no longer existed.

...The same could not be said for himself, in other regards.

There were trees now, a vast lushless forest of dead leaves. The objects of nature were no longer the fantastical brown of sturdiness or the glimmering emeralds of beauty, but a grey monotone plastered with white parasites. Winter ate at every single one of the structures, supposed monoliths which were supposed to represent all of nature's beauty, leaving nothing but an abhorrent symbol.

Megumi turned away. He hated looking at them, it reminded him too much of death. Death of his friends, death of his comrades, and death of himself. There was always such a lingering scythe grazing at his neck, ready to strike at any moment. Whether he was allowed to see the next day by such an unknown force was unforeseeable, something that all Jujutsu Sorcerers in the business had to mull over at some point of their lives. Unless, of course, they were a True Jujutsu Sorcerer.

Ryomen Sukuna.

He feared the day that his mindset would devolve to be somebody like him. There were many paths which he could take, and Megumi wasn't so blind as to see himself at times straying toward the King of Curses' route. Even the Sorcerer was sure that he was overthinking such matters, the possibility still remained, and every second of remembrance toward such a thing was the anchor holding himself down.

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