CHAPTER 20: BLUE CURTAIN

Dust clouded the fractured battlefield.

The once-crimson glow of Geto's Ryoiki Tenkai flickered—strained under the pressure of resistance.

From the edge of the cracked Domain, the woman stepped into full light.

Utahime Iori.

Clad in reinforced robes, a wooden staff carved with ancient symbols in her grasp, her presence carved through the oppressive air like a gust of winter.

"So, you're still breathing," Geto smirked, his knuckles gleaming with cursed residue. "I expected better from one of the Kyoto instructors."

Utahime narrowed her eyes, voice sharp. "And I expected you to stay buried in your delusions."

With a sudden burst of cursed energy, she lunged forward, slamming the end of her staff against the ground—sealing arrays shot out in all directions.

Geto countered instantly.

The two clashed fiercely—curse for curse, strike for strike. Her barrier techniques collided against his summoned monsters, blowing apart streets and tearing gashes in the earth.

Fifteen minutes passed. Then thirty. Then nearly an hour.

The battle dragged on, Utahime drenched in sweat, arms trembling.

Her robes were torn. Blood dripped from her lips. Yet she stood firm, eyes blazing.

But Geto's endurance seemed boundless.

And then—

Crack!

He vanished—only to reappear beside her.

With a flick of his arm and a surge of cursed force, his Curve Technique twisted the air around them and—

SLAM!

His punch smashed into her side with unnatural force.

She crashed through twelve concrete walls, each one exploding around her.

Finally, her body crumpled at the base of a massive building, coughing blood, body limp.

Yuta screamed from afar—"Utahime-san!!"

Geto slowly advanced.

"Should've stayed out of this," he said coldly. "I was merciful the first time."

He raised his arm again.

Dark energy coiled around his hand.

"Curse Technique: Reversal—"

He fired it.

But it never landed.

WHUMMMMMM.

A deep hum filled the air as a blinding blue barrier sprang up between Geto and Utahime, dispersing the cursed energy like smoke.

From the other end of the battlefield…

A familiar voice rang out—sharp, smug, amused.

"You know, Utahime…"

Footsteps.

"You really should try not to die until I show up. Otherwise, how will I have someone to tease?"

Gojo Satoru had arrived.

Shimmering in a coat half-torn, blindfold resting just below his eyes, his grin—cool and dangerously confident—cut through the chaos like a blade.

Utahime groaned from the ground, barely lifting her head.

"Shut up… Gojo…"

Gojo knelt beside her.

"You're still clumsy," he whispered with a wink. "But thanks for keeping my seat warm."

His gaze shifted to Geto.

His smile faded.

And for a heartbeat—

The entire world went silent.