Curse Return: Demon Void Girl Doesn't Want to Be a Weakling

Boom! ...

A burst of flame shot into the sky, and the scorching blast wave sent debris and dust flying. The entire shrine grounds trembled.

Nanami was forced back several steps by the shockwave, and his heart sank.

Even he would have had a hard time escaping unscathed from such an explosion's epicenter, and that girl...

As the flames and smoke slowly dissipated, a shallow crater was blasted into the center of the open space.

The monk with the karmic fire stood still, the flames on his neck dimming considerably.

At the edge of the pit, a petite figure, with her hair heavily embedded in the ground, knelt on one knee, supporting herself and preventing herself from falling.

Her sportswear was almost completely charred, her exposed skin was covered with large, horrific blisters and scorch marks, a section of her silver hair was singed, and her face was streaked with black and red—a truly wretched sight. But she was indeed still alive.

She raised her head, her face covered in dust but unable to conceal the gleam in her eyes.

The Dharma wheel above her head gradually stopped spinning and became quiet. Mashiro slowly straightened up, her movements slightly swaying.

"I see... I see." She spoke, her voice hoarse and broken, yet carrying a hint of satisfied laughter. "High temperatures, impacts, and that cursed will that has been burned away in the flames... It's quite interesting, but I've completely adapted."

She raised the rain-soaked sword, its tip pointing at the astonished and bewildered monk.

"Your technique," she grinned, revealing teeth stained with blood, her smile unrestrained and arrogant, "I accept it."

The next moment, Mashiro moved.

Nanami stared in astonishment at the rapidly moving figure; her speed was far greater than before!

His figure almost became a blurry black line, not rushing in a straight line, but following an arc-shaped trajectory, instantly circling around to the side and rear of the Karmic Fire Monk.

That was a relatively weak point in the flow of its magical power, something she had just realized during the explosion.

The Fiery Monk roared and swung his burning giant fist back, but Mashiro neither dodged nor avoided it, taking the punch without a scratch, and not even being able to take a step back.

She brandished the Rain Blade, a faint red light swirling around its blade, and plunged it fiercely into the weak point of the Karmic Fire Monk!

The raindrops were imbued with the characteristics of karmic fire that she had just come to understand.

"Pfft!"

It was no longer the dull thud of a hard object colliding, but rather the sound of a cleaver cutting into grease.

The Fiery Monk let out a painful roar, and uncontrolled flames gushed from its wounds. For the first time, its movements became noticeably stiff and chaotic.

"Now!" Mashiro shouted hoarsely.

Nanami, who had been poised to strike, rushed forward like lightning at the perfect moment created by Mashiro. The magical power gathered on his short sword was condensed to the extreme, turning into an almost invisible thin line that precisely pierced into the depths of the flames on the neck of the Karmic Fire Monk along the wound Mashiro had opened!

The massive body of the Fiery Monk suddenly stiffened, then, like a punctured balloon, the lava and flames on his body rapidly disintegrated and turned to ashes.

The flame on his neck, symbolizing his origin, flickered violently a few times before finally going out.

Thick black smoke rose up, and some of the pure incantation power contained within was purified and dispelled by Nanami's sword, but a large portion was quietly absorbed by Congyu, who was nearby.

Mashiro felt a surge of energy, far purer and more abundant than ever before, flowing into her body, rapidly nourishing her battered body, repairing her injuries, and replenishing her energy reserves.

This propelled her total magical power to a new level, not just reaching level two, but even pushing her towards an even higher level.

She and Fushiguro Megumi are now at the same level, although their combat strength may be different.

Silence returned to the shrine, with only the night wind blowing across the scorched earth, gradually dispelling the unpleasant smell of burning from the battlefield.

Nanami sheathed his sword, his movements still meticulous. He didn't immediately examine the scene. He first turned his head, his gaze landing on Mashiro.

"You are truly remarkable, Monk Karmafire. I will probably never forget you for the rest of my life."

The girl stood there, covered in wounds, her clothes tattered, swaying precariously as if she would collapse at any moment.

But she stood ramrod straight, knife in hand, her crimson eyes shining brightly in the night, and the mad smile from the battle still lingering on her face.

"You..." Nanami began, his voice hoarse. He had just witnessed an incredibly brutal battle.

This girl, completely disregarding her own body, adapted and learned at an unbelievable speed, even countering the attack of a level one cursed spirit.

That fearless and increasingly frenzied fighting spirit was deeply imprinted in his mind.

"Me?" Mashiro turned to look at him, her smile gradually fading into calm. "I'm still alive, the cursed spirit is dead, the mission is complete. So," she held out her hand, palm up, "my 800,000 yen, Mr. Nanami?"

Nanami stared at her outstretched hand, covered in burns and blood, and remained silent for two seconds.

Then he took a thick envelope from the inside pocket of his suit, stepped forward, and gently placed it into the only intact side pocket of her tracksuit.

"There's a million here," he said, his tone unusually serious, even with a hint of barely perceptible gentleness. "You're worth it. Not just the payment, but also the medical expenses. You're badly injured and need immediate professional treatment."

"One million?" Mashiro blinked, touched her bulging pockets, her excited mood calmed down, and her tone became calm again.

"Thanks. But I'll pass on the treatment; my constitution is different, and I recover very quickly."

"Your recovery ability is indeed extraordinary," Nanami said, not pressing the issue but speaking seriously, "but that's no excuse for your reckless behavior. Your fighting style is too extreme. You got lucky this time, but you might not be so lucky next time."

"Only the weak rely on luck." Mashiro nonchalantly shook her still numb right arm, but the movement aggravated the wound, causing her to gasp again. "I have a strong mindset. If I can't beat someone, I adapt, and once I adapt, I win."

Nanami looked at her, this girl covered in scars yet stubborn and arrogant, and finally just shook his head, as if giving up on lecturing her. He took out his business card from his pocket and handed it to her.

"This is my contact information, Kujo Mashiro." He called out Mashiro's full name, his tone solemn. "I acknowledge your strength and resolve. Although I don't agree with your methods, you are a qualified sorcerer. If you encounter any difficulties in the future, you can contact me. I will also recommend you for suitable missions."

This was already a very high compliment and invitation. Mashiro took the simple business card and carefully put it away.

"I will. Contact me anytime if there are any good assignments." She tried to move her body a little and felt her strength returning. "I'll go now, I have to catch the Shinkansen."

"Wait." Nanami called out to her, frowning as he looked at her unsteady steps. "How are you going to get to the station in this condition? I'll take you there."

"Need not……"

"Don't argue, you're a minor." Nanami interrupted her, his tone leaving no room for argument. "At least take you to a place where you can get a taxi, that's your responsibility as an adult." As he spoke, he began to take off his suit jacket.

"Hey, no need..." Mashiro wanted to refuse, but Nanami had already draped the large coat over her almost naked body and carefully adjusted the front of her coat to cover the terrible wounds.

"Let's go." He said succinctly, turned around and led the way, but deliberately slowed his pace considerably.

Mashiro paused for a moment, looked down at the men's suit jacket she was wearing, then at Nanami's tall and composed back, and finally said nothing more, wrapped the jacket tighter around herself, and followed.