[Ding!]
[Congratulations to the host for activating the Daily Sign-in System.]
[Unused Daily Sign-in Attempt noticed!]
[Signing in!]
[Obtained Unlimited Cursed Energy!]
Name: Toge Inumaki
Age: 5
Race: Human
Skills: Unlimited Cursed Energy
Toge's small feet kicked up a thin cloud of dust as he walked toward the front of the house, the soft crunch of loose pebbles underfoot the only sound in the quiet countryside. The path was uneven, littered with patches of dying grass and jagged stones—neglected, forgotten, much like the house itself. The wooden structure loomed ahead, its once vibrant beams now dull and cracked, the roof sagging in places as if the house could no longer bear its own weight. The wind that passed through the nearby trees was faint, carrying with it the faint, unmistakable stench of blood.
Toge glanced up momentarily as a floating screen hovered before his eyes, the words appearing as if from nowhere. He turned to his mother, who stood just behind him, her expression calm as always. She smiled, her lips curving into a gentle reassurance as she gestured toward the house. “I will be watching over you,” she said softly, mistaking his brief hesitation for nervousness.
Her tone was kind, but Toge knew this was more than just a simple act of observation. This was a test, one meant to see how he, a mere five-year-old, would handle the weight of his birthright. Cursed Speech. He understood the potential of it, even at this young age. His clan had high expectations of him, and his mother’s watchful eyes were there to ensure that he met them.
Toge gave her a small nod and turned back toward the entrance, his hands clenched into tiny fists at his sides. The power within him, the endless current of cursed energy, swirled beneath his skin, reinforcing every step as he crossed the threshold. The moment he stepped inside, the world shifted. The house was suffocatingly silent, as if the air itself was holding its breath. The scent of death hit Toge all at once—thick, metallic, and heavy with rot. It filled his nostrils, clawing at the back of his throat, yet he didn’t flinch. He simply pinched his nose.
The floorboards groaned under his small weight as he ventured deeper into the home. Every sound seemed to echo unnaturally, the creaking wood, his own soft breaths. The walls that once held family memories were smeared with dark stains. Blood. Toge’s gaze swept over the carnage. A broken table lay overturned in the center of the room, one of its legs snapped and jagged, as if someone had tried to use it as a weapon. Shards of porcelain littered the ground. His eyes moved toward the corner, where the lifeless body of the father slumped against the wall, his eyes frozen wide in terror. The man’s fingers still gripped a wooden bat in a futile defense. But it hadn’t been enough.
Toge’s chest tightened, not from fear but from seeing a dead body for the first time. In normal circumstances, it would be his mother—or another experienced sorcerer from the clan—handling the exorcism. But he was born with the Snake Eyes and Fangs sigil, marking him as someone who carried the Inumaki clan’s dangerous, rare cursed speech. The clan had made it clear from the beginning that they expected great things from him.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
And so, at five years old, he was staring into the face of death rushing toward him. The Grade 4 curse shot out from the shadows without warning, its twisted body resembling a grotesque chameleon. Its claws were long, sharp, and gleaming under the dim light as it launched itself toward Toge. Its eyes were wide, freakish orbs that gleamed with hunger as it sought to tear into his small frame. Its tongue lashed out, eager for human flesh.
Toge felt the energy surge within him, his small frame radiating with cursed energy as the curse closed in. His lips parted, his voice cold and calm. “Stop.” The word was soft, but the power behind it was absolute. The curse froze in mid-air, just before it could crash into Toge. He didn’t flinch. The curse squirmed against the invisible power holding it in place, but Toge’s violet eyes only gleamed with quiet realization.
This power—he could control it. He could command anything, anyone, with just a single word. Toge’s mind whirled with ideas. If he wanted to, he could exorcise this curse right here and now. However, the young child never really had a chance to explore his curse technique back at the clan. Cursed Speech was considered exceptionally dangerous. Even talking was considered a privilege, not a right. He would have to earn that right by proving he was responsible and could be trusted to not use his curse technique in a way to harm others. So, with the help of his parents, he began to make up his own language to communicate with others.
“Expand.” The curse ballooned before his eyes, its grotesque form swelling until it was almost too large for the room.
“Shrink.” With another word, it shrank to the size of a fly. Toge watched it buzz in confusion before smirking.
“Normal.” The curse returned to its original state, still dazed but more aggressive now, snarling as it reoriented itself.
“Sleep.” The curse crumpled to the ground, snoring softly. Toge stared at the pitiful creature before glancing over his shoulder. His mother remained by the door, her expression calm, unreadable. She wouldn’t interfere unless absolutely necessary. Toge’s lips twitched upward.
“Grow.” The curse swelled again, this time larger than before, its hulking body barely able to fit in the room. It let out a roar, confused, disoriented. Toge let out a small giggle, the rush of power filling his chest. Suddenly, the curse jerked its head toward him, its maw snapping open, ready to lunge.
“Ascend.” With a single word, the curse shot upward, slamming through the ceiling with a heavy crash, limbs flailing in the air. Toge kept his gaze steady, a gleam of fascination in his eyes. But he knew he had to end it soon. If the curse rose too high, it might escape the range of his voice.
“Descend.” His voice was firm. The curse plummeted to the floor with a sickening crunch. Toge’s mother stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder, her touch gentle yet firm. Toge bowed his head in apology, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. Right, exorcising spirits wasn’t supposed to be a game.
He turned back to the now limp curse as he prepared for the final command. “Die.” In an instant, the curse exploded into nothingness, its remnants scattering like dust. Toge’s mother smiled down at him, her eyes full of pride. “Well done, Toge. Not many children your age can boast about exorcising a curse at five years old.” Toge merely nodded, covering his mouth with the mask once again.
“Salmon,” he muttered in affirmation, his voice muffled behind the fabric.
Together, they turned and walked back down the uneven path, the scent of death and blood slowly fading behind them as they left the ruined home in silence.