Surpassing the Impossible

"You Excellency, shall we detonate all the charges?" one ninja asked Kokomi.

"Not yet. Let's see how Allen surprises us," Kokomi grinned, looking forward to Allen's actions against the Shogun. Knowing him, she was sure he wouldn't face her without a plan—meaning he had a high probability of victory. "Show it to everyone, Allen."

"Another one dares to face me." The Shogun stared coldly at Allen, who calmly stood his ground. In his hands was a sword resembling a musical instrument, and at his hips hung two different swords, both sheathed and concealing their true forms. "You will both die," she said, then dashed forward with great speed, slashing at Allen and Kazuha.

Allen remained calm. He lowered his posture, and with a swift movement, he parried her sword.

Clank Clank Clank — the Shogun unleashed a flurry of strikes, her speed far surpassing Allen's, but he parried all of them with minimal movement, perfectly countering her.

Fsssh! Seeing an opening, Allen thrust his sword, and the Shogun was forced to back off, causing a wave of shock across the battlefield.

"You are all enemies of Eternity!" Lightning cracked around her — the Shogun now fully serious, taking Allen as a true rival that demanded her full attention.

Allen closed his eyes and took a deep breath, focusing all his body and mind. "Let's begin." When his eyes opened, his usual purple irises gleamed with a gray shine. His posture, his presence, and even his demeanor had shifted.

"Just who are you?" the Shogun narrowed her eyes. For an instant, she saw an image overlapping over him — the image of a young girl from many years ago, incredibly talented and full of vanity, one who had dared to face her.

"Endora, please." Allen snapped his fingers, and a deep fog spread across the battlefield, swallowing both him and the Shogun, cutting off everyone's sight of them.

Inside the mist, Allen activated his Delusion, he letting completely be swallowed by it, Kagome almost getting full control. His hair grew longer and whiter, his frame leaner, more feminine—becoming Columbina.

"So it was that… one of the Tsaritsa's minions. I will not let you act in Inazuma as you wish!" the Shogun charged forward, swinging her blade with lethal intent.

Clank! Allen stepped in, her sword humming like a melody, forming a torrent of water around it.

Poom! Water exploded beneath Allen's feet, propelling her forward like a bullet.

Clank Clank — Sword strikes rang out endlessly as Allen's Kamisato style flourished. She had fully embraced Kagome's form and technique, facing the Shogun head-on in a deadly and beautiful dance, water and lightning clashing and exploding with every collision.

"Have you grown weaker, Shogun-sama?!" Allen grinned, her slashes swift and elegant, filled with pressure but graceful like a storm in bloom.

"So, you are truly the same as back then… That talented girl. But as it was then—so too shall it be now!" The Shogun roared, lightning erupting around her. Her speed surged.

Clank Clank Allen began to struggle, barely able to block the increasing speed and force of the Shogun's strikes.

"Ah!" Allen was flung back, barely holding onto her Flute. She lowered her stance and gripped her sword tightly, preparing to unleash her most advanced technique.

"Kamisato Kagome Style: Falling Mirror Bloom!"

Allen burst forward, her body spinning into motion—each strike rebounding, echoing with greater force. Her blade slashed once—twice—and then everywhere. A storm caught in the shape of a flower. The storm surged toward the Shogun.

"Useless!" BOOM! Lightning exploded as the Shogun summoned a storm around her sword and with precise power, cut through the storm of flowers, breaking it apart. Her sword pierced Allen's flow and sent her Flute flying.

"The same as a hundred years ago. This is your end. Your futile rebellion ends now," the Shogun stepped forward, expecting Allen to resist or panic.

Instead, what she saw was a charming, bright smile.

"I suppose it's my turn now…" Allen grinned, drawing his Da Vinci Blade. With a flick of elemental energy, it transformed into a katana. "Kagome, let me show you how much I've grown."

Clank! He clashed once more with the Shogun, still using Kamisato-style techniques.

"This changes nothing!" the Shogun growled, swinging with more force. Allen was being pushed again—

Clank The Shogun's sword stopped. Allen had blocked it. Something was different.

Allen's parries were sharper. Her movements more efficient. Her form—refined.

"Kagome, you were great," Allen said, locking blades with the Shogun, "but my talent…" Clank! Another blow stopped. "Is greater than yours!"

The Shogun flinched. Allen's style—though still similar—had begun to change. Her body, too, was shifting: her long hair shortening, her features sharpening, becoming more masculine. CLANK!

"Y-you…!" the Shogun shouted, summoning more power. Lightning burst around her as she gave up on technique and unleashed sheer force. "If you won't fall to my sword—then fall to my wrath!"

"Finally," Allen whispered. Allen found in his mind space, Kagome having always been in front of him. He finally stepped forward, surpassing her, leaving Kagome behind. "I have surpassed you."

Kagome's image faded, her eyes closed gently in acceptance. "Allen… follow your own path. Keep your Pride strong."

From his training with Makoto, his endless deaths, Allen's will and body had been tempered. His sword had been forged in the flame of adversity. He was no longer her puppet, someone to follow her orders or be taken.

He was himself. And with it, he had made the Delusion completely his, being in control of it, meaning that he could use it normally.

Allen stepped forward, his body completely his usual one, male and without any despiction of Kagome.

Cryo and Hydro merged around his blade. A frozen torrent burst forward as he charged, clashing with the Shogun's raw lightning, pushing her back.

Strike after strike, Allen's custom style flowed—refined, calculated, reactive—driving the Shogun to the defensive. For the first time in centuries, she was forced to retreat.

"Impossible…!" the Shogun trembled. "I cannot lose… I shall preserve Eternity!"

She lifted her sword—lightning surged, freezing time, warping space. All power converged.

Musou no Hitotachi.

Allen could see everything, even in this stopped moment. He could sense her desperation. Her fear.

'I had planned a counter…' He rested his hand on the sword at his hip—but didn't draw.

'I won't need it now.'

"You know, Shogun," Allen said quietly, "your power is tied to the nation's faith. And now, after this war—after Kazuha stopped your 'invincible' technique…"

He lowered his stance.

"You're no longer a match for me."

The Shogun roared: "DIE! MUSOU NO HITOTACHI!"

The ultimate technique came crashing down—unstoppable in name.

Allen stepped forward.

The ground beneath him trembled, then crystallized. Sheets of ice bloomed like glass petals, tracing delicate arcs around his feet. From them, streams of water spiraled upward—twisting in graceful helixes, each tendril moving with impossible harmony. The battlefield dimmed, bathed in a haunting fusion of pale blue and silver light, as if the storm itself had paused to witness what was coming.

He raised his blade.

From its edge flowed not rage, not vengeance—but beauty. His stance, once Kagome's, had evolved: the poised elegance of her form still echoed in his posture, but now it pulsed with a deeper, raw precision born from his endless battles, from the torment of Makoto's mindscape, from the truth of facing himself.

Glacial air surged outward with each step. Trails of ice split the battlefield in perfect symmetry, as rivulets of water flowed and twisted through the air—never clashing, never straying. Above him, the streams coiled like twin dragons, one formed of pure snow-glass, the other of liquid sapphire, spiraling toward the heavens and converging at his sword.

"My own style…" Allen whispered, eyes locked onto the falling lightning of Musou no Hitotachi. "Ochikawa no Hana—Flowers of the Falling River."

He moved.

It was not an attack. It was a performance—an aria of swordsmanship.

Each slash drew arcs of frigid air and flowing water, dancing in perfect unison, the Cryo freezing each stroke into petals of frost, while the Hydro wove them together like ink on paper. They curved and swirled around him, accelerating, orbiting faster and faster—becoming a cyclone of dual-elemental grace.

The river bloomed.

The petals, formed from countless fluid slashes, now circled Allen like a storm of cutting blossoms—delicate yet deadly, freezing and slicing through the air with both elegance and ferocity. At the center of it all, Allen stood motionless, his sword lowered—only the faint hum of power resonating from his stance.

Then he stepped forward again.

The frozen petals burst outward.

They raced to meet the Shogun's ultimate strike—Musou no Hitotachi descending like divine judgment. But Allen's storm did not meet it head-on.

It enveloped it.

Like a river pulling a boulder into its current, his technique coiled around the sword of lightning, slowing it, twisting it, weakening it. The Shogun's blade lost its line. The brilliance of its fury dimmed—its power pulled apart by a technique crafted not only from elemental mastery, but from pure will and refinement.

BOOM!

The collision shattered the sky.

A frozen shockwave exploded outward, halting time for an instant. Water surged upward like blossoms in bloom—ten thousand mirrored petals, each one glinting with cryo-frost, scattering across the battlefield like a final snowfall.

When the light faded, Allen stood tall, his breath steady. Around him, the battlefield lay silent—bathed in frost and water, the scorched earth cooled, the storm quieted.

Musou no Hitotachi… had been stopped.

Her invincible technique had been completely defeated

"It's my win."

The Shogun fell to her knees. Though her power and speed were superior, she had lost. Her style had been broken. Her technique overwhelmed. Allen's blade reached her neck.

CRRR! Just as Allen prepared to finish it, lightning struck between them. He leapt back.

From the other side of the storm, a silhouette approached—a beautiful woman with fox ears and pink hair.

Allen didn't flinch. Calm as ever, he pointed his sword to the side.

"It was time for your appearance," he said. From the side he was pointing with his sword, a silhouette approached—a beautiful woman with fox ears and pink hair. "Yae Miko…"

Then his eyes narrowed.

"Or should I call you the true Electro Archon—Gremory."