As the dust settled, Chika Shihouin stood rooted in place, silently watching the pure white woman dissolve into fragnts of light, scattering like dandelion seeds.
Until, at last, she vanished completely.
Makoto stood calmly at the other end, composed and serene.
For a mont, even this dark-skinned noble's gaze toward Makoto began to shift, tinged with sothing unusual.
Truly, you're sothing else!
Makoto!
Standing nearby, Chika had witnessed the entire battle.
Though the initial probing made Makoto seem sowhat disheveled, once he released his Shikai, the tide turned decisively in his favor.
Chika saw it all!
With just a few casual swings of his zanpakuto, Makoto brought that Quincy down.
Then, the woman's entire body began trembling uncontrollably, clutching her abdon as if sifting chaff!
At the sa ti, pink hearts seed ready to burst from both their eyes!
When the Quincy woman struggled to her feet and charged again, only to be defeated once more, her eerie 'erasure' technique inexplicably had no effect on Makoto.
From then on, the battle beca utterly one-sided.
This bizarre cycle repeated over and over!
Chika didn't dare dwell on what they'd done in that wicked zanpakuto's space.
"Truly, you're sothing else, Makoto!"
"You effortlessly accomplished what we couldn't."
As the corpse fully dispersed, Chika limped to Makoto's side, his expression brimming with awe.
How much sincerity lay in those words needed no explanation.
But Makoto was no fool.
He caught the implication in Chika's words, knowing they weren't about the battle itself.
With a sidelong glance, he said with disdain, "Don't underestimate my intelligence network."
"You're limping over here hoping I'll lend you a hand, aren't you?"
"How dare you interrupt my mourning for the late Louise-san."
[I'm not into guys, Blackie-chan!]
His zanpakuto's childish voice chid from Makoto's waist.
Clearly, it wasn't into that either.
"Hey, you brat!" Chika gave him a playful smack on the shoulder, laughing despite his mock anger. "I'm still your senpai, you know."
Seeing him like this, Makoto grinned widely.
"Is your leg alright?"
He glanced down at Chika's Raioken gauntlet, now only on one side, the left half likely consud by his 'Utsusemi' technique during the fight with Louise.
Without it, even with Chika's skill, escaping unscathed from a rule-based Quincy like Louise would've been near impossible.
"No issue, it doesn't hinder movent."
"But you, on the other hand."
Chika eyed his blade. "Can you still fight?"
"That depends on the opponent's compatibility."
Though Makoto had seemingly dispatched a formidable foe with ease, he knew his own limits and wouldn't let it go to his head.
"Besides…"
As they spoke, both turned their heads toward the distant sky.
A tidal wave of reiatsu surged, spreading relentlessly outward, forming rings of ripples.
Makoto took a deep breath before slowly finishing his thought. "These guys aren't exactly easy to deal with."
…
Sensing the overwhelming reiatsu swelling before him, Saizō Sakaho moved with deliberate slowness, sheathing his cane-sword and turning toward the gate.
A faint, relieved smile crept across his wrinkled, layered face.
"My luck isn't half bad."
Squinting, he looked toward the source of the reiatsu.
His cane-sword was now held horizontally before him, his small, hunched fra sohow exuding an inexplicable air of stature.
"We parted ways not long ago, and here we et again."
Saizō's voice was slow and deliberate. The weary old man, his eyes shadowed in their sockets, suddenly widened them slightly.
"Yhwach."
As his words fell, a towering figure stepped through the hollow, illusory gate between realms, striding into the Soul Society.
A man with wild, lion-like black hair and a thick, heavy beard, his presence somber and commanding.
The mont he set foot on this land, his red cape billowed fiercely.
"You again, insect."
Yhwach spoke, lifting his head to survey the ravaged battlefield around him.
The war between Shinigami and Quincy was both a clash of races and ideologies, diverging views on handling Hollows and the ultimate fate of the three worlds were the root of their inevitable conflict.
Yet, having witnessed countless tragedies over two hundred years, Yhwach wondered if he'd grown soft or if the temporary loss of his omniscience had seeded doubt in his own judgnts.
Did these sacrifices hold aning?
After all, the 'final him' was destined to fall to a Shinigami's blade.
The Lichtreich would collapse entirely.
Yhwach didn't know.
The only certainty he held now was one truth.
Continuous victory was the only path forward.
"I'm growing tired of your gas."
Yhwach's voice was cold as he casually tilted his chin toward Saizō. "Handle it, W."
With that single command, the small doll hanging from his sword hilt as an ornant began to grow and harden.
A fully armored, rounded tallic puppet erged, standing before Saizō, blocking his path to Yhwach.
Releasing W, Yhwach turned confidently, striding toward the Seireitei.
That was his true objective.
Behind him, Saizō drew his cane-sword once more.
Facing the massive puppet before him, Saizō let out a low, raspy chuckle, his voice hoarse and deep.
"Parasitize! Hirumoto Hiki."
In an instant, a surge of black energy swelled, creating a vast zone of chaotic reiatsu.
But if it was only to this extent…
Gazing at Yhwach's retreating figure, Saizō's wrinkled face twisted into a ferocious grin.
"Not nearly enough."
Swish!
Saizō's half-black, half-white zanpakuto slashed forward.
Yet the chanical W, completely unfazed by the blazing strike, charged headlong against the old man's onslaught. With a piercing whistle of wind, it reached for his blade.
Clang!
Palm t blade, sparking a crisp tallic ring and a burst of dazzling sparks.
Saizō's expression froze for a mont, but he swiftly swung his blade again.
"Useless."
From beneath the tal doll's mask, a muffled male voice erged. "All your efforts are futile!"
"My Schrift is 'W'!"
"Weapon."
"This rounded ch you see before you is the pinnacle of that power!"
"Offer your life to him."
From under the mask, W's gaze toward Saizō grew increasingly hostile.
But Saizō rely glanced at him coldly, his smile growing kinder. "Fool."
…
Yhwach hadn't been gone from the battlefield's center for long when,
Boom!
A deafening explosion rang out, and the shattered remains of the rounded ch puppet crashed before him, half its body embedded deep in the ground.
Most of the ch lay in pieces.
Yhwach's brow furrowed. With swift precision, he drew his Quincy cross sword, blocking a strike from above.
Scrape!
Greatsword clashed with tachi.
Sensing the force from the other side, Yhwach detected sothing unusual and abruptly kicked Saizō, who was still closing in, sending him flying.
Yet that 'unusual' sensation only intensified.
Focusing his senses on his body, Yhwach suddenly pinpointed the source of the anomaly.
Surrounding him were countless entities, finer than strands of hair, floating in the air.
These minuscule presences, like a haze, clung to his body.
Yhwach's expression grew subtly grave.
What was this?
From their previous encounter, this old man's ability seed to involve controlling small insect-like creatures.
What exactly…
Noticing the hesitation in Yhwach's movents, Saizō's face slowly curled into a sinister smile, his speed doubling in an instant.
Clang!
The hunched, seemingly decrepit old man moved with shunpo that rivaled, if not surpassed, the agility of younger Shinigami, his movents eerie and unpredictable.
His short tachi, held in a reverse grip, darted like a venomous snake, thrusting, slashing, and striking.
Thrust, upward slash, reverse cut, cleave.
Though Yhwach blocked every strike, Saizō's mastery of assassination was on full display.
Finally, the hunched old man gripped his blade with both hands, delivering a fierce frontal slash.
Clang!!
Yhwach, wielding his sword single-handedly, blocked the strike with a cold gaze.
"That's enough."
Saizō abruptly retreated.
As Yhwach frowned, pondering the aning of his words, a furious roar erupted behind him.
Roar!!!
Unbeknownst to him, W, half its body and ch shattered, rose from the ground, heedless of its own survival. Its eyes glowed with dense crimson.
With a reckless bellow, it turned and charged, toward Yhwach!
Yhwach's eyes narrowed sharply.
The next mont, a massive explosion engulfed both Yhwach and W.
A tidal wave of reiatsu surged outward, forming a sweeping torrent.
Saizō gazed at the explosion, a smug look crossing his face.
"Hirumoto Hiki isn't such a simple blade."
As its release phrase implied, Hirumoto Hiki was a 'parasitic' blade.
His ability to control swarms of insects didn't stem from so command over them but because Saizō had already parasitized each one.
Those under his control were like cordyceps, parasitized entities, their very lives in his grasp.
This parasitism wasn't limited to his blade or ability; it extended to his own frail body.
Because he could abandon even his body, Saizō was the most resilient captain of this generation's Gotei 13.
Before encountering Yhwach in the living world, Saizō had been refining the concept of 'parasitism.'
It was only after being shattered that he developed this new zanpakuto ability.
, Extending the concept of 'parasitism' to bacteria.
W, caught off guard, had been violently infected within its ch, becoming Saizō's 'puppet.'
His command to W was simple.
Seize the right mont and kill Yhwach with your most powerful ability.
The result was, without question, a success.
"Heh."
Saizō let out a hoarse, crow-like laugh. "So, the so-called Quincy King amounts to just this?"
"Relying too much on past battles isn't a good habit."
But no sooner had he spoken than a slashing strike cut through the smoke.
Splatter!
Saizō's body froze.
Everything above his neck was cleanly severed by the flying slash, soaring far with a thud.
From the depths of the smoke, Yhwach's footsteps erged.
He still held his Quincy cross sword.
Wild, lion-like hair, jet-black beard, pristine clothing.
Even his red cape remained unblemished.
"Saizō Sakaho."
"You thought you could use what I granted the Quincies against ?"
"Don't be naive, fool."
At Yhwach's cold, frenzied words, Saizō's 'corpse' twitched faintly before dissolving into a dense swarm of black insects, scattering in all directions with a shrill buzz.
Simultaneously, his severed head struggled to open its mouth, unleashing a low, resonant roar.
"Bankai-"
"Rurinukichuu Hirumotohiki!"
Watching his grotesque struggle, Yhwach's smile grew colder.
Shinigami.
Indeed, only their Bankai warranted a second glance.
***
Bonus Chapter:
100 Power Stones = 1 BC
300 Power Stones = 2 BC
500 Power Stones = 3 BC
700 Power Stones = 4 BC
1000 Power Stones = 5 BC
***
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