Robb Stark couldn't help but watch Gojo. It was hard not to. He had never seen anyone quite like him—so cold, so distant. Gojo never smiled, never showed any warmth. His eyes always seemed far away, as though he was seeing something that none of them could.
Robb tried to understand him, tried to get closer, but Gojo remained an enigma. Even when Robb and Theon worked together, Gojo effortlessly beat them back every time. It was always the same. He fought with just one hand, and they stood no chance. There was an almost casual brutality to it. Gojo's power was undeniable, and it left Robb with a sense of awe—and unease.
But it was what happened after the argument with their father that changed everything.
It had started over the executions—the ones that Ned Stark insisted were necessary to keep control. Gojo, for the first time since Robb had known him, had spoken out. He had argued that the killings should stop. That there was another way to maintain order without bloodshed. Gojo had been passionate, his voice filled with a fury that Robb had never heard before. But their father disagreed. He believed in the old ways, in the laws of the North. And Gojo's protests were met with swift punishment.
Ned Stark grounded him. The words still stung in Robb's memory.
What came next was a tension in the air that Robb could practically feel on his skin. Gojo's anger was palpable, like a storm ready to break. It was the first time Robb had seen the usually composed Gojo lose control, and it left a mark on him.
Since then, things had been different. Gojo and their father never spoke anymore. Gojo had retreated into a cold silence, cursing the "old ways" and everything they represented. Robb could see it in the way Gojo moved, in the sharpness of his gaze. It was as though the world had been divided into two halves—one that adhered to the rules, and one that was willing to burn everything to the ground to change them.
And Gojo, it seemed, was determined to bring about that fire.
Feed a cursed spirit enough, and it would become god-like. That was a lesson Gojo had learned in his past life. And the cursed energy here? It was potent, stronger than anything he had felt before. The thought of what kind of monstrosities this accursed ritual could birth made his head throb. His thoughts were racing, imagining the horrors that might be unleashed. It was as if the merger of cursed energy with these ancient rituals had created something far more dangerous.
But there was one thing Gojo knew for certain: Old Nan was the key to it all. She was the only Jujutsu Sorcerer he had encountered since arriving in this world, though she was hiding behind the guise of an old woman who told stories to children. There was something off about her, something that made Gojo suspicious. He had no solid evidence yet, but he could feel it deep in his bones. She was involved in the sacrifice, in the ritual that had brought all this cursed energy into the land.
Once he dealt with her, Gojo would turn his attention to the monstrosity beyond the Wall. Whatever it was, Gojo would face it head-on. With or without a cursed technique, he would confront the threat. And, with any luck, he would stop whatever twisted experiment had been set in motion before it could consume the world.
----------------------------------
To read 20 advanced chapters you can visit my Patreon:"https://patreon.com/ThePromoter"