Only when Li Shunchen clearly sensed, deep within his soul, that the weighty karma belonging to the Eight-Handled Sword Divergent Sila Divine General Mahoraga had established an absolute, unbreakable connection with him was the subjugation ritual for this strongest shikigami truly settled in the real world.
The night breeze swept over Jujutsu High's devastated athletic field once more, dispersing the nauseating scorched smell left in the air by the friction of high-density energy.
Less than a minute after the destructive energy storms had finally subsided and the field had fallen deathly silent, extremely hurried, heavy footsteps suddenly sounded from the distant dormitory corridor.
With a muffled bang, Masamichi Yaga could no longer spare a thought for his usual stern bearing as a teacher.
Still dressed in a rather comically oversized set of pajamas, with slippers he had not even managed to pull over his heels properly, he rushed breathlessly to the edge of the field.
Masamichi Yaga's bloodshot eyes fixed on the center of the field. The once-level turf had vanished completely, replaced by a perfectly hemispherical crater a full ten meters across, its edges as smooth as though a god had scooped it out with a spoon.
A chilling sense of distorted laws still lingered at the bottom of the crater.
His gaze then swiftly swept over the three culprits currently at the edge of the field: Li Shunchen, kneeling on one knee and catching his breath, and Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto standing nearby, their faces still frozen with lingering horror and bewilderment.
At the sight of this veritable disaster scene, Masamichi Yaga's brain did not even need to engage in rational thought. His muscle memory as their homeroom teacher instantly kicked in.
Veins bulged on his forehead, and he pointed at them with a deafening roar.
**"Satoru