The battlefield itself had become a canvas of impossibility. Fractals of shattered realities spiraled into infinity, explosions beyond non-dimensional scales echoed across multiverses, and yet Kyuroto Mitsuyo moved with serenity. His shadow clones, countless beyond comprehension, circled Mathro like a storm made of inevitability.
Mathro's true full form radiated a presence beyond omnipotence, beyond transcendence, yet Kyuroto's expression was calm — not mocking, not defiant, just unwavering certainty.
"This ends now," Kyuroto said, voice steady, carrying the weight of infinity itself.
With that, he activated Convergence of Infinite Strikes, an auxiliary technique beyond auxiliary techniques. Probability threads intertwined with paradoxical loops, bending every possible timeline toward a single outcome: the absolute neutralization of Mathro's assault.
His katana, glowing beyond hyperdimensional light, sliced through the fabric of causality. Every swing spawned infinite reflections across shadow clones, each movement a perfect calculation of multiversal probabilities. Strikes came from everywhere and nowhere, collapsing and converging, each a paradoxical inevitability.
Mathro swung his dagger, authority rippling outward in waves that could erase entire cosmologies, yet every attack was intercepted by Kyuroto's clones. Each clone moved at speeds beyond non-dimensional, beyond hyperdimensional comprehension, preemptively positioning themselves in every conceivable trajectory Mathro might strike.
The battlefield trembled under the pressure of existence itself. Realities folded like paper, paradoxical energy exploding beyond the concept of destruction. Yet Kyuroto's core remained untouched. His calmness was not ignorance — it was absolute control over every probability, every possibility, every thread of reality.
Kyuroto advanced, katana in hand, weaving martial arts into outerversal strikes. His shadows merged with him, becoming extensions of his consciousness, each strike no longer separate but a singular inevitability manifesting across infinite realities.
"Authority cannot touch what exists beyond all rules," he whispered, voice carrying through the collapse of universes.
With a final motion, the convergence completed. Every shadow clone synchronized into a single, unstoppable strike, each katana cutting through infinite timelines simultaneously. Probability threads snapped into place, paradoxical loops sealed shut, and even Mathro — beyond omnipotence and beyond transcends — staggered under the precision and inevitability of Kyuroto's assault.
For the first time, a trace of doubt flickered in Mathro's eyes. Against the orchestrated inevitability of infinite strikes, against the master strategist wielding katana and probability alike, even a being beyond all concepts of existence found resistance that could not be negated.
Kyuroto Mitsuyo, serene and unyielding, stood at the center of the convergence. Shadows and reality alike obeyed him, and the threads of infinity had woven a singular truth: this battle was approaching its decisive turn.
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