Cursed Energy Runes

Early Morning

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the window, casting a golden spot of light by the bedside.

Four o'clock in the morning.

Sōjun Gen woke up right on time, refined his cursed energy, and stretched his body in the courtyard.

He had no plans to go out today.

The cursed womb he captured yesterday was still waiting to be dealt with.

After completing his daily routine unhurriedly, Sōjun returned to the living room. The cursed womb sat cross-legged on the wooden floor in a corner, motionless since the previous day.

Its locust-like head bore a dull, expressionless look, devoid of any emotional fluctuations—it could no longer express emotions.

During its assimilation, Sōjun had eroded its spirit and will. Now, it was no different from a vegetative state—or more aptly, a "cursed plant spirit"—possessing the characteristic of "being alive" but lacking any autonomous action.

Every move it made was under Sōjun's control, facilitated by a crimson strand of hair embedded in the back of its head.

Since Sōjun began experimenting with flyhead assimilation, this ability had steadily matured.

By planting his blood-flesh cells into a living target, these cells would greedily consume all nutrients, growing and overtaking the host, eventually replacing it.

The target would remain alive but be entirely assimilated into Sōjun's form, except for the head, which he deliberately preserved.

Once its soul was also transformed, Sōjun would fully dominate it—its cursed energy, soul, and body would become entirely his.

At that point, it would function like an external limb of his, fully controllable while retaining its own innate technique.

The only drawback was the need for constant physical connection. The crimson strand of hair served as the lifeline maintaining this control. Without it, the host body would collapse, and its soul would disperse.

The cursed womb was currently undergoing this assimilation process.

As for the flyhead, it had already been fully assimilated, now resembling a scaled-down version of Sōjun. The only difference was the pair of gray-white wings—chicken-like in appearance—that remained on its back.

The flyhead was weak, lacked innate techniques, and had no special abilities, so Sōjun had completely assimilated it. Its wings, symbolic of its original nature, were left untouched.

Watching the flyhead dart chaotically through the air, its delicate, youthful face now twisted with sly expressions and shifty eyes, Sōjun's face darkened.

With a thought, he seized control of the flyhead, skillfully maneuvering it in loops overhead. The smooth, free-flowing movement brought him unexpected joy.

Flying was an exhilarating experience—soaring through the skies evoked a sense of boundless freedom.

After enjoying his flight, he descended slowly, hovering just before his true form, his wings flapping lightly to maintain suspension.

Sōjun frowned, staring at the flyhead for a moment. Resolutely, he wiped away its facial features, leaving its face smooth and mirror-like.

Gazing at the reflective surface, he saw his own image staring back at him. The shared perception between them allowed him to simultaneously see himself and the mirror's perspective. It was a unique, captivating experience.

Intrigued, Sōjun closed his eyes.

The flyhead flew again, its mirror-like face reflecting everything in the living room—tables, chairs, teacups, the sofa. Still unsatisfied, it soared out of the attic and into the courtyard.

Looking up, the mirror reflected the azure sky and a few scattered, pristine clouds. Looking down, it captured the golden-hued earth, bathed in sunlight that grew richer with distance.

The expansive view seemed to broaden not only his vision but also his heart.

After observing for a while, Sōjun returned to the living room and opened his eyes. He scrutinized the flyhead's wings. Calling it flight was generous—it was more like gliding. The wings were too feeble.

With a thought, Sōjun decided to modify them. His familiarity with eagles made transforming them into eagle wings his first instinct.

The transformation was swift. In no time, the chicken wings became powerful eagle wings, exuding strength and a commanding presence.

Soaring high into the sky, the wings sliced through the air like a fish's fin through water, leaving faint trails in their wake. In mere moments, the flyhead returned, limited only by the crimson strand of hair tethering it.

Satisfied, Sōjun withdrew his control.

The flyhead stumbled, then resumed its erratic flight, behaving like a mischievous pup. Annoyed, Sōjun restrained it with the crimson strand, leaving it suspended overhead.

Turning his attention to the locust-headed cursed spirit, Sōjun frowned. This one was harder to handle, as its size was comparable to an average human's.

Suspend it overhead?

That would be like letting it… defecate on his head.

Despite the cursed spirit's body being made of cursed energy, Sōjun's mild cleanliness obsession couldn't tolerate such a scenario.

The flyhead was an exception, given its unique nature.

Suddenly, inspiration struck Sōjun—

Cursed energy?

His cursed energy, flesh, and soul were mutually convertible at a ratio of 7:1:1.

In other words, seven parts of cursed energy could transform into one part of flesh or soul, and flesh and soul were interchangeable at an equal rate.

Cursed energy was the easiest to convert, often serving as the intermediary between flesh and soul.

Since the bodies of the flyhead and locust were composed of his cursed energy, why couldn't he convert them into flesh?

Sōjun searched the house for a mirror but found none. He fashioned one himself using a strand of hair, forming a reflective surface.

He removed his shirt and allowed the flyhead to hover beside him.

Touching his chest with sharp fingers, his body dissolved into a swirling, black mix of gas and liquid.

After a series of intricate manipulations, black lines emerged on his chest in the shape of a circular rune.

The markings, while abstract, hinted at a mirrored design.

Satisfied, Sōjun allowed the flyhead to return to its humanoid form briefly before assimilating it back into his chest. The black lines reappeared as a rune.

"This will make things much more convenient," he mused, envisioning the locust-headed cursed spirit undergoing a similar transformation.

The potential applications excited him. Future cursed spirits with unique techniques could be assimilated, their abilities stored as a versatile arsenal.

He decided to name these marks Cursed Energy Runes.

Donning his shirt, Sōjun concealed the markings. Whether by appearance or perception, they were now undetectable.

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