The moment Mahoraga fully manifested, the battlefield stopped behaving like a battlefield.
It stopped behaving like anything at all.
The air didn't feel heavy—it felt conditional, like it was waiting for permission to exist.
Yuji took a step back. "…That thing is not fair."
Nobara's voice dropped. "…That thing is illegal."
Megumi didn't correct her.
That was answer enough.
Takeru stood still.
Not frozen.
Processing.
His Six Eyes were already analyzing—but the results weren't stabilizing into anything useful.
Every time he mapped Mahoraga's structure, the structure slightly changed.
Not randomly.
Adaptively.
"…So that's how it is," Takeru muttered.
A shadow flickered at his feet again.
Divine Dogs reformed instantly.
They lunged.
BOOM—
Mahoraga didn't even turn.
One arm shifted.
That was enough.
The Dogs were blown apart like they had never been real.
Yuji tensed. "…They didn't even land a hit."
Megumi's voice was sharp now. "…Because it already adjusted."
Takeru exhaled once.
Then made a decision.
"…Then I'll reduce variables."
Shadow expanded again.
Another shikigami formed.
Then another.
And another.
He wasn't summoning strategically anymore.
He was purging.
Testing each one.
Forcing output.
Forcing failure.
Nobara frowned. "…Is he… trying to reset it?"
Megumi's eyes narrowed. "…He's trying to brute-force control through elimination."
Yuji blinked. "…That sounds like a terrible idea."
Megumi didn't answer.
Because it was.
Takeru moved.
Fast.
Each shikigami that formed was immediately engaged.
Not tamed.
Not commanded.
Just defeated.
One after another.
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—
Shadows collapsed in rapid succession.
Divine Dogs.
Frogs.
Extensions of constructs.
Each one erased as soon as it appeared.
Yuji stepped forward slightly. "…He's clearing his own summons…"
Nobara: "HE'S SPEEDRUNNING LOSING HIS OWN TECHNIQUE?!"
Megumi's voice tightened. "…He still doesn't understand the system."
Mahoraga finally moved.
Slowly.
Its wheel turned once.
Then again.
And the air changed.
Takeru paused mid-action.
"…Adaptation increase."
Megumi's eyes widened slightly. "…It's learning him now."
Yuji: "…That's bad, right?"
Megumi: "…That's catastrophic."
Takeru's shadows flickered.
For the first time—
they didn't respond immediately.
Not because they were gone.
But because they were hesitating.
Like they were no longer sure they belonged to him.
Takeru clicked his tongue.
"…I cannot command them."
Silence.
Yuji blinked. "…Wait, he just figured that out now?!"
Nobara: "NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR REALIZATIONS!"
Megumi spoke quickly.
"…Ten Shadows doesn't obey force. It obeys mastery."
Takeru glanced at him briefly.
"…Then I lack mastery."
Megumi stared.
"…Yes."
A beat.
Mahoraga stepped forward.
The ground didn't crack.
It adjusted around its weight.
Yuji whispered. "…That thing is coming closer."
Nobara tightened her grip on her hammer. "…We need a plan."
Megumi shook his head slightly.
"…There isn't one yet."
Takeru stood alone in front of it now.
All remaining shadows unstable.
None fully controlled.
None stable enough to rely on.
Mahoraga raised its arm.
The wheel behind it spun faster.
Takeru exhaled.
"…Then I stop using them."
Silence.
He let the shadows collapse.
All of them.
No summons left.
No constructs.
Just empty cursed energy.
Yuji: "…He gave up the technique?!"
Megumi's eyes narrowed. "…No."
"…He reset the problem."
Takeru stepped forward.
Now unarmed in technique terms.
Only raw cursed energy.
And Six Eyes.
Mahoraga moved.
Takeru moved too.
BOOM—
The impact sent shockwaves through the distorted space.
But Mahoraga didn't stagger.
It updated.
Yuji clenched his fists. "…He's not hurting it."
Nobara: "…Nothing is hurting it."
Megumi's voice dropped.
"…Because it doesn't stay the same long enough to be damaged twice the same way."
Silence.
Takeru slid back slightly from the exchange.
His expression remained calm.
But now—
there was something new in his gaze.
Understanding.
Not victory.
Not defeat.
Just realization.
"…So I cannot command it," Takeru said quietly.
"…And I cannot defeat it conventionally."
Mahoraga stepped forward again.
Wheel turning.
Ever learning.
Ever changing.
Yuji whispered. "…So what do we do?"
Megumi didn't answer immediately.
Then:
"…We don't win normally."
Takeru adjusted his sunglasses slightly.
"…Understood."
And the fight continued—
with no rule left that guaranteed survival.