Mahoraga

Megumi struggled to stay on his feet, each clash with the curse user pushing him closer to the brink. Blood dripped from his fingertips, pooling around his torn shoes as his body threatened to give out. He couldn’t keep this up any longer—his techniques were failing, and the curse user’s onslaught was unrelenting. His thoughts raced, desperate for a solution, until he realized there was no other choice.

With a shaky breath, Megumi clasped his hands together, summoning every ounce of cursed energy left in his broken body. The ritual began to form as he spoke the words that carried a dreadful weight: “With this treasure… I summon… Eight-Handled Sword Divergent Sila Divine General Mahoraga.”

The air around him stilled before erupting with an overwhelming pressure, the sky itself seeming to darken. The colossal figure of Mahoraga emerged from the void, breaking through the binds that had kept him sealed. His sheer size and presence radiated an aura of destruction, a primal force unleashe