The Reaper of the Red Moon

"AHHH!" A man screamed, and he woke up covered in sweat.

*Huff* *Huff* *Huff*

He held his hand over his chest as he calmed his racing heart. He gulped down his saliva and hesitantly glanced towards the foot of his bedroll. His eyes seemed to carry a hope that what had just occurred was merely a nightmare. But he had heard the rumors among the tribes about the red moon dream. Little did he know he would also experience it during his life.

The makeshift tent of furs covering him obscured the sight of the edge of his bedroll, so he had to shift himself closer to see through the dark.

He leaned in, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest, while he kept his breathing as quiet as possible. 

According to the rumors... the reaper of the red moon would leave a gift at the end of your bedroll to those he liked. If the red moon dream was real... then he was willing to confirm the second rumor.

He gasped as he finally saw what lay in the dark.

A small effigy, a carving of blood-red wood that was not of this world, lay at the edge of his bedroll. It was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, a carving of a man carrying a sickle, with vines and plants around him.

The man hesitantly picked up the small carving, before placing it back at his feet.

The rumors were true.

The carved sculpture was immaculate in design, mimicking the accuracy to an unnatural degree that only machines could. And yet, it gave off a feeling of security to it. A kind of security one gets when they are protected by monsters, from a monster.

The man felt somewhat relieved.

With the effigy of the reaper, he wouldn't have any more nightmares.

Suddenly, the man's eyes widened as he saw a grotesque curse squirm forward near his head like a worm. Its ring-like mouth attempts to insert itself into his ear and drill into his brain.

In fear, he let out a silent scream. 

He thought that these things only existed in dreams. What were these abominations doing in the real world?

'Wake UP!' He commanded in his heart.

But nothing happened, because he was already awake.

Suddenly, the effigy of the reaper glowed and a thick negative energy filled the air, causing the low-grade curse to freeze in instinctual fear. 

The man held his eyes closed for no more than a second, but that was all that was needed.

He felt a slight gust of wind appear and move his hair before he opened his eyes.

The curse was gone. While the effigy of the reaper's eyes faded with a red glow.

Perhaps... the gift from the reaper of the red moon was more precious than he thought.

...

Inside Morse's dream realm, he sat on a stool in front of a small wooden shack he had built for himself. He could absorb objects into his dream realm through his cursed technique, so he absorbed enough trees to make a small cabin out of them.

He closed his eyes and felt the feedback from his newest 'cursed item' created through cultivating another dream plant. 

A tree that had once towered higher than the redwood trees at its full height.

It was different from the previous plant he grew, which produced a fruit. This one, withered and died almost immediately after it reached adulthood. It left only a central section of its trunk as a usable material. 

It was a 'living wood', which allowed a connection to be made with an individual to see and act through said wood over a long distance.

He took it and caved unique effigies from it. 

Giving it to the humans who had significant potential to become jujutsu sorcerers down the line.

How did he know they might become sorcerers?

Their negative energy increased his cursed energy reserves by significantly more than regular humans.

It was a rather easy deduction from there.

When his dream realm latched onto a human dreamer, they would often be pulled into his dream realm in astral form. Meaning they wouldn't die to anything here so long as he didn't physically pull them into it.

He only needed to fight them a little and absorb their negative energy before sending them back.

Not only was he keeping the amount of cursed energy in the world low due to this, but he was also exercising cursed spirits. You could say that he was doing his 'job' as a sorcerer and keeping the regular world safe from curses.

He even managed to deduce a property of his cursed energy.

Normally, as stronger and more sorcerers appear in the world, the overall amount of cursed energy generated by them and human kind would cause stronger curses to form. This is a form of balancing that the world attempts to naturally do.

Well... it doesn't seem to apply to him.

It's almost as if his cursed energy is 'not there', or 'not recognized' by the world.

Like something between a dream and reality.

In the few times, he has stepped out back into the world over the few years that have passed, indicated no clear 'balancing' from the world due to his now Grade 1 cursed energy reserves.

It was a shame too... because Morse was counting on this, hoping to use stronger curses to fertilize his plants.

It would seem that if he wanted to increase the world's cursed energy, he would need to cultivate some sorcerers of his own.

But that could wait...

120 years had passed so quickly in the real world, and yet he was only in his 20s.

Natural time dilation from dreams worked in his favor.