"By the power vested in this sacred relic, I summon..."
The young man with jet-black hair chants the incantation with an air of grim determination. His voice resonates through the clearing, echoing off the walls of the desolate, ancient temple. Behind him, a brilliant, completely white cocoon begins to materialize, suspended in the air. Its surface glows faintly, a soft, almost otherworldly light emanating from within. Delicate, serpentine threads attach themselves to the cocoon, undulating like living veins.
The air grows heavy with anticipation, each breath feeling denser as the ritual progresses. The black-haired young man's face is etched with intense focus, his eyes locked on the pulsating cocoon.
After completing the incantation, he declares, "Eight-Handled Sword Divergent Sila Divine General Mahoraga!"
The very moment his words penetrate the stillness, the cocoon starts to tremble violently. Cracks appear on its surface, spreading rapidly like spiderwebs. Each crack releases a burst of dark, crackling energy, creating an almost electric atmosphere. The force of the energy pulses outward, causing the ground to tremble and the air to hum with an unsettling resonance.
Nearby, a young man with vibrant yellow hair watches in mounting horror. His face pales, and his breath becomes shallow as he witnesses the cocoon's violent convulsions. Sweat streams down his face, mingling with the anxiety etched into his features. "Damn you! Do you intend to kill both of us?" he screams, his voice high with panic.
The yellow-haired man's fear is palpable. The energy radiating from the cocoon is not only immense but also corrupting, a nauseating force that seems to claw at his senses. It's a manifestation of raw, malevolent power that defies natural order. He staggers backward, desperate to escape the oppressive aura that feels like it's crushing him.
The black-haired young man remains eerily composed, his silence a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding around him. His eyes, however, glint with a steely resolve. As the cocoon's surface continues to shatter, revealing the Divine General within, a sinister smile tugs at his lips.
"If I die, I will take you with me," he intones with chilling calmness.
The cocoon erupts in a shower of shimmering fragments, falling away to unveil the Divine General Mahoraga in its terrifying splendor. The beast is a colossal, muscular figure that stands with an air of malevolent authority. Four immense wings, grotesquely protruding from its eye sockets, flap with a discordant rhythm. Its tail-like appendage extends sinously from the back of its head, writhing as if alive. Above it hovers a massive wheel with eight intricately crafted handles, rotating in a slow, deliberate motion.
Mahoraga's attire is both regal and fearsome: black hakama bottoms, billowing and dark, contrast sharply with a white sash that wraps around its waist, accentuating its formidable presence. The wheel's rotation is not just ornamental but a crucial aspect of its power.
[Image here]
Known as the pinnacle of the Ten Shadows Techniques, Mahoraga is not just a force of brute strength but a creature of adaptability. Its most terrifying feature is its ability to evolve in response to threats. If it sustains injury from a particular attack, the eight-handled wheel will rotate to analyze the threat. If the same technique is used again, Mahoraga will counter it with enhanced precision. This adaptive combat style makes Mahoraga a nearly unbeatable opponent, capable of overcoming any attack or defense.
As Mahoraga emerges fully, the air is filled with a palpable sense of dread. It takes its first measured step, and with a burst of speed, it vanishes from sight. In an instant, it reappears behind the black-haired young man, its presence marked by a surge of dark, oppressive energy. The Divine General's attack is swift and unrelenting. It strikes with a force that seems to distort the very air around it, sending the young man sprawling across the ground in a violent collision.
The impact is jarring, and the black-haired young man is hurled sideways, crashing into a pile of rubble. The earth trembles under the force of the blow, debris scattering in all directions. He lies motionless for a moment, the breath knocked out of him, but a cold resolve remains etched on his face.
Mahoraga's consciousness is a chaotic storm of confusion. In the midst of its destructive rampage, it grapples with fragmented thoughts and questions. 'Where am I?' 'Who am I?' The disjointed nature of its self-awareness mirrors the disarray of its surroundings, creating an eerie juxtaposition between its physical dominance and mental uncertainty.
The yellow-haired man, witnessing the raw power of Mahoraga and the destructive aftermath of its attack, is left frozen in terror. His mind races, trying to comprehend the sheer scale of the danger. The scene is set for an epic confrontation, one where survival hinges on the ability to adapt, outwit, and withstand the monstrous power that now stands before them.
TO BE CONTINUED!!
Author's Note:
I apologize for the delay in updating the series due to my upcoming exams. I appreciate your patience and understanding. Rest assured, I'm working hard to bring you the next chapter as soon as possible. Thank you for your continued support!
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