Anomaly
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction based on multiple existing anime/manga series. The characters and settings used in this story belong to their respective owners and creators, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to infringe upon any existing intellectual property. I do not own any of the original works that inspired this fanfiction, and I fully support the original creators and their works.
-Story Start-
-Third Person POV-
Satoru's voice cut through the frigid air, an ominous warning that reverberated like a sinister prelude in the minds of the Sword Saints.
Yet, time eluded them—no chance to react, prepare, fight back, or escape.
They couldn't fully grasp the situation before...
Satoru's former fangirl stood frozen, her blade poised inches from his body. Bewildered surprise etched across her face as an unexpected force collided with her jaw—a punch, swift and ruthless.
Her realization came too late.
The result? An involuntary and grotesque facial rearrangement, marked by a resounding crack.
Her body sailed through the frigid air, losing momentum until it crashed onto the snow, staining it with blood, unconsciousness claiming her.
Satoru, eyeing the sprawled figure, mumbled, "You guys are pretty weak..." His unperturbed nonchalance accompanied a casual rub of his chin.
'Maybe Eris set an overly generous benchmark for these so-called "Sword Saints,"' Satoru mused, boredom flickering in his eyes.
The remaining Sword Saints, their swords frozen in futile mid-advance, could only bear witness to the instantaneous dismantling of yet another comrade. Satoru's overwhelming presence left them paralyzed, devoid of any chance to retaliate.
'This is still fun, though~,' Satoru thought gleefully, his sadistic smirk reemerging as he noticed one of the Sword Saints beside him snarling like a cornered animal.
"Y-YOU BASTARD!" one of them beside Satoru yelled, releasing a Longsword Of Light aimed at Satoru's feet, a desperate attempt to breach his defenses.
Satoru, meeting the challenge with amusement, quipped, "I was very intentional~!"
The lackluster Longsword Of Light met its end as Satoru hopped, slamming his feet onto the sword, shattering it into fragments. In a fluid motion, he delivered a Cursed Energy-powered roundhouse kick to the bewildered Sword Saint's face, embedding him in the snow-covered ground, and cracking the stony surface beneath.
The strengthening Battle Aura and the subtle twitching of muscles were apparent to Satoru's Six Eyes, rendering any attempt to flee futile.
While Satoru concluded his encounter with the snarling Sword Saint, three others who are currently airborne attempted a coordinated assault, only to find their efforts thwarted by yet another facet of Satoru's Limitless Technique.
A technique they are blissfully unaware of, whether it be to their fortune.
Or in this very case... Misfortune.
"GAAAAH!" cried the middle Sword Saint, caught in a sudden gravitational force that sandwiched him between his airborne comrades.
"Not enough~!" Satoru declared, seamlessly transitioning into a knee slam to the middle Sword Saint's gut, launching him further into the air and away.
The airborne Sword Saint landed a significant distance away, doubled over in agony barely holding on to the threads of consciousness as he puked his lunch.
Whilst the two adjacent airborne Sword Saints regained a semblance of composure from their sudden collision, they shakingly gripped their swords in a two-handed grip and tried to swing their sword with practiced mastery at Satoru.
A naught effort, the sword swings fueled by panic and fear, even failed to form their Longsword Of Silence form, let alone the Longsword Of Light.
Their attempts were shattered. Satoru's fists, Reinforced generously with Cursed Energy, not only pulverized the feeble swords but sent shockwaves through the very ground beneath him as he swung. Without pause, Satoru grasped their heads with both hands and violently drove them into the snow-covered ground and straight into the cobblestone, creating hairline fractures that spiderwebbed through the ground akin to a small crater. The impact resonated with a deafening boom, leaving an unforgettable mark of their defeat.
Bloodied and unconscious, the Sword Saints lay sprawled in the snow and cracked ground, transforming its pure white into a morbid canvas of red hues.
Satoru rose slowly, his Six Eyes locked on the distant horizon as anticipation brewed within him, 'Should be getting here pretty soon...' A bloodthirsty smirk, only seen rarely managed to take hold of Satoru's expression.
Nonchalantly brushing off snow and wiping away the blood from his victims, he turned to face the four Sword Saints. Huddled together, their gaze mirrored a blend of awe and, predominantly, fear.
A cold shiver ran down their spines at Satoru narrowing his eyes at them, an imperceptible yet overwhelming pressure settling on their shoulders. Beads of sweat formed on their faces, and each breath became a laborious struggle.
Only for the oppressive atmosphere to disperse when...
"Uwa~ Fast! Nice to meet you too~!" A crimson-hued katana materialized with imperceptible speed, mere inches from Satoru's neck.
However, it halted, blocked by an unseen force, refusing to inch any closer to its intended target.
"A barrier," remarked a Beast Woman emotionlessly, her lone eye narrowing at the smirking Satoru, who responded with a friendly wave.
'Special Grade, definitely... With the element of surprise, she might even be able to get Suguru,' Satoru noted, impressed and, more importantly, excited.
The Beast Woman instinctively retreated, realizing her attack was thwarted by an alleged barrier, putting a considerable distance between them.
'Good instincts... Mana concentrated on her covered eye as rumored. Must be one of those Demon Eyes or Magic Eyes they've been confusing with my Six Eyes...' Satoru scrutinized the figure before him, analyzing every detail with his Six Eyes.
"Black Wolf Sword King... Giselle? Glycine? No! Don't correct me! ... Aha! You're Black Wolf Sword King Gyoza-Line!" Satoru attempted to playfully tag the dog woman who had attacked him, pointing a finger gun with an expression of pure confidence. His tone was mischievous and nonchalant, completely disregarding the serious atmosphere and collateral damage he had caused.
"Ghislaine!" One of the surviving Sword Saints yelled out in relief at the presumed arrival of their savior.
"Hmm... Could've sworn it was Gyoza-Line~!" Satoru tilted his head in deep concentration, only to shrug in acceptance.
Usually, Ghislaine would have never backed off, even if her initial attack failed. Aggression, speed, and momentum were the specialty of the Sword God Style. This was enhanced multiple folds when used by a skilled practitioner like Ghislaine, a Sword King.
The reason behind her backing off was simple...
Ghislaine's conditioned instincts flared and went haywire, warning her to approach this man with caution, the only one to cause a similar reaction was none other than the Sword God.
She gripped her katana and coated herself with Battle Aura, ready to move at a moment's notice.
However, this peculiar-looking and dangerous individual reminded her of someone she had recently heard about, especially those mystical eyes he was displaying.
Ghislaine was not one to indulge in unnecessary gossip, being a dense individual with no interest in town rumors.
Yet, her curiosity was piqued when Eris recounted her tale of what was supposed to be a difficult and lengthy Patrol Duty. The duty ended anticlimacticly, the Snow Dragon having been slain by a third party that had traveled back with Eris into Town.
The impressive individual in question possessed abilities and capabilities so foreign and mysterious that Eris memorized his name, existence, and power, recounting it perfectly to Ghislaine.
Down to the last detail of her attempts to castrate the poor White-Haired Barbarian.
The individual looked exactly as Eris had described to her not even a week ago.
As the sun set and the Holy Land of Swords welcomed the coming night, Ghislaine broke the troubling silence that was only enhanced by the endless snowfall.
"Are you Gojo Satoru?" Ghislaine asked neutrally, her guard never lowering as she tightly gripped her sword, ready to unleash it once again at a moment's notice.
Ghislaine recalled what Eris had mentioned when she recounted her tale, "He says his barrier is God Rank. I don't believe him at all. But... He's managed to effortlessly block my attempts to teach him a lesson without looking tired at all."
As preposterous as that claim would be, Ghislaine had gained evidence that reinforced the absurdity. He stood completely unaffected by the swing of a Sword King, a Longsword Of Light from Ghislaine, leagues beyond that of Eris.
Yet, the result Ghislaine got from Satoru's barrier was the same as Eris's.
Unfazed.
Satoru replied confidently, "Who else could I be~?" He pointed at himself, his expression reflecting his enjoyment of the entire debacle.
Nevertheless, she got the confirmation she wanted. Right now, her job was to defend this place, to remove the threat.
He's caused too much damage to both the Dojo grounds and to the Students.
Judging by the brutality of Gojo Satoru, he hadn't come to visit for niceties.
"GET HIM, GHISLAINE!" The final conscious girl, amidst the group of four Sword Saints, reduced to mere spectators, shouted desperately.
The collective thought of 'This is worse than Eris!' rang aloud in the minds of the remaining Sword Saints as they glanced at the unconscious figures of their peers, knowing well it could've been them.
And still could be, if Ghislaine doesn't end this quickly...
Composed, Ghislaine, in hopes of finding a weakness in the barrier, slowly removed the eyepatch from her right eye, the one blocking her Magic Power Eye. Her lone eye never left Satoru's figure.
Satoru stood there, nonchalant as ever. He was aware that her scrutinizing gaze wouldn't hinder him in any way.
As always, Satoru took priority in causing emotional distress, whether friend or foe.
Satoru's specialty was always the stoic, uptight, cold, and stone-faced people—a large majority of the Sorcerer Clans were comprised of these, so practice was plentiful.
And now, he's done it again!
Doing nothing is also a move... Or so Satoru likes to say.
Beads of sweat formed on Ghislaine's face, her eyes narrowed, and she blinked multiple times just to ensure she was seeing right.
The grip on her Katana only tightened at the bafflement of what she was glimpsing through her Magic Power Eye.
"You... Have no Mana? At all?" Ghislaine asked, her tone troubled and confused.
Ghislaine was no scholar or noble, but her experience with the Magic Power Eye and basic knowledge of the world always concluded with one singular fact when it came to Mana.
Everyone, Everything, Everywhere, there exists Mana.
There is no such thing as an individual without it.
A capacity infinitesimally close to zero, but not actually zero, might be possible.
However, completely Manaless? That is clearly...
An Anomaly.
But fittingly, what is Gojo Satoru but an Anomaly?
To Be Continued!
-Author Note Start-
My goodness, you have no idea how long this chapter took, despite how short it is.
This took as long as the last chapter, although it's barely half the length.
...Action sequences sure are hard to write huh?
Welp anywho!
I'm back to writing this fic!
I have neglected it for too long yeah!
I'll try and post another chappie tomorrow.
Sorry for the delay!
Hope the chapter was up to snuff as per usual despite its length.
Next chapter we'll be having a continuation. Obviously.
Will Ghislaine and Gojo brawl it out? Who knows?!
Also!
Sword Saint Gojo Victims Estimated Recovery Time.
Physical Recovery - 3 Months without Healing Magic.
Psychological Recovery - 30 Years and many professional consultations.
Anyways! Most importantly! Did I portray Teen Gojo well in this chapter? I'd appreciate feedback on this on each chapter! As this is the most critical part of the fic! Woohoo! Feedback! Yes!
Have a nice day!
-Author Note End-