"Hadō 67: Raiisan!"
With a thunderous shout, a torrent of mist and crackling lightning burst forth, scattering the surrounding Genji shinigami while ensnaring the afro-topped figure in chains of electric fury.
Makoto lowered his hand, his other arm cradling Danjirō Obana's limp form as he withdrew from the haze. He turned to the side.
"Captain!"
Almost the instant his voice rang out, a flurry of Asauchi blades shot from the mist and lightning.
Before they could reach him, Unohana's figure materialized in front of her disciple.
Clang!
The Asauchi scattered in all directions.
Unohana stood motionless as if she hadn't drawn her blade at all.
Even Makoto, re steps away, could only faintly catch the fleeting mont she sheathed her Zanpakutō.
Then, Ōetsu Nimaiya erged from the mist, striding forward with asured calm.
Not a single mark marred him, despite the storm of lightning.
Makoto's pupils narrowed.
Yet he held his tongue.
The truth was plain, before a monster like this, soone of his caliber, a re future lieutenant at best was no different from an ordinary shinigami.
Resistance was futile.
Ōetsu's gaze didn't linger on him. Instead, it shifted to Unohana, her expression serene as ever. He extended both hands, pointing twin index fingers at her with exaggerated flair.
"Well, well!"
"This gentle lady must be my opponent for this round!"
"Need a mont to prep??"
For a fleeting second, Makoto's eyes flicked to him, tinged with bemusent.
He wasn't alone.
The surrounding Genji shinigami mirrored his reaction, their stares laced with subtle incredulity.
Look, a corpse that talks.
His Zanpakutō spirit's childish voice erupted in everyone's minds, brimming with mockery.
[You're done Blackie-chan! Just wait! Even Jesus can't save you now!]
[Unohana-mama's gonna chop you into eight thousand pieces, kuku!]
[What else can you do besides swing that pathetic cute blade?]
[Pfft! If Makoto's reiatsu wasn't so low, he'd spin you into a puff pastry in seconds!]
Hearing the voice echo through their heads, Ōetsu froze for a beat.
Then, with a look of genuine astonishnt, he whirled toward Makoto, words tumbling out.
"Hold up, hold up, hold up! I don't recall forging a blade this rude!"
"And it's talking in its Asauchi state…"
"Hey, kid!"
"Let see that sword of yours!"
Makoto flashed him a genial smile, raising a middle finger.
"Why don't you let see your wife instead?"
[Pfft! Pervert! Who's your wife!]
The blade was unusually chatty today.
Seeing it banter freely, Ōetsu's eyes glead with fascination.
This was too intriguing!
But before his curiosity could fully ignite, Unohana stepped forward, her hand easing her Zanpakutō from its sheath.
In an instant, a wave of killing intent surged from her, engulfing a dozens-ter radius.
She lifted her gaze, locking onto Ōetsu with a frigid stare.
"Disrespecting your opponent is a poor habit."
Ōetsu seed to sense the shift. He slid his sunglasses off, his tone growing serious.
"Looks like this lady's not one to brush off easily."
As he spoke, he reached to his side.
With a clang, an Asauchi he'd tossed aside earlier spun into his grip.
Both of their reiatsu teetering on the precipice of a shinigami's utmost limit, erupted in unison.
The air turned frigid, a sensation sharp enough to slice skin, palpable to all nearby.
"Back off! Everyone, back off!"
Makoto knew full well the stakes of a clash at this level. If ordinary shinigami were caught in its wake, the aftermath would be grueso. The sheer pressure alone could crush most of those barely scraping Tier-10 reiatsu into pulpy ruin.
"Makoto-kun."
Unohana's voice ca over her shoulder, casual yet firm, "No interfering, understood?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Makoto knew her rules intimately.
Combat was her sacred pasti, none were permitted to intrude.
"No can do!"
Ōetsu's head snapped up, his voice booming as he called to the Zanpakutō around him.
"Sweethearts! Darlings!"
"Pin that kid down for , would ya?"
"Can't let him slip away!"
Makoto's pupils contracted sharply.
The words had barely landed when the Zanpakutō erupted with a boom, clouds of dust billowing as feminine figures materialized behind Ōetsu. Their hostile gazes fixed on Makoto.
More precisely, on the blade in his hand.
They'd heard every barb his Zanpakutō had flung.
Makoto shot a glance at his captain for guidance.
Unohana rely returned a gentle smile.
No hint of intervention.
He was on his own.
"What a hassle."
Makoto tossed Danjirō Obana aside, eyeing the nacing Zanpakutō spirits with a flicker of exasperation.
Even in materialized form, they didn't seem like foes he could dismiss lightly…
He still recalled Muramasa from the ani series, and how much havoc a Zanpakutō could wreak.
As that thought crossed his mind, a sudden shout erupted from behind Ōetsu.
"Yosha!"
Abruptly, a petite figure with blazing red hair leaped skyward, soaring over ten ters. She plunged toward him, flas roaring from her hands and feet.
"Great Explosive Blaze!!!"
A torrent of ferocious flas erupted from the red-haired girl's mouth, engulfing a dozens-ter radius in an instant. The searing heat at its core blazed a blinding white, the churning air forming gusts that shoved everyone in its vicinity backward.
The air, scorched by the intense temperature, grew oppressively hot. Even a hundred ters away, sweat poured from skin in rivulets.
The charred earth released a pungent, acrid stench.
Yet ra Hiuchigashima still spewing fire suddenly sensed sothing amiss.
"Hm?"
Before she could halt, a steady voice cut through the inferno's heart.
"First Form - Severing Strike!"
In the next breath, the fla-devoured ground split as if cleaved by an invisible hand. A precise, razor-straight fissure parted the blaze down its center, accompanied by a crisp tearing sound that rang in the ears.
At the fire's core, Makoto stood unshaken, shielding the gravely wounded Danjirō Obana. His gaze t hers with calm indifference.
"These embers compared to the fla currents I've witnessed…"
"They're a far cry."
[Not a bad flex, five points for you!]
Makoto strained to keep his expression steady.
The mont his Zanpakutō spirit's voice faded, a whistling wind surged at his back.
A masked girl with wild black hair descended from above, wielding a wooden-handled hamr over three ters long. Its arc warped violently midair under the force of her swing, crashing toward Makoto's skull.
A sidestep. A kick.
First, he booted the injured Danjirō Obana out of the fire's reach.
Makoto pressed his scabbard against the hamr's shaft, planting a foot on its head as it sank into the earth. His fierce gaze locked onto the silent Tsumiko Tsuchimiya, and he thrust out a finger, chanting swiftly.
"Carriage of thunder, bridge of a spinning wheel. With light, divide this into six."
"Bakudō 61: Rikujōkōrō."
Golden pillars of light shot forth, pinning Tsumiko's slender fra midair, locking her in place.
But before Makoto could swing his blade, a mass of golden, tangled hair surged from the side, aiming to halt him.
"Hasuka! Tie him up!"
ra shouted, her voice booming, "I'm gonna make this guy taste my super Great Explosive Blaze!"
"Got it!"
A clear, bright voice chid from the hair's center.
That would be Hasuka Hashihara.
Makoto shifted with a Shunpo, his eyes darting around.
It wasn't just him.
Ōetsu Nimaiya with his entire assistants and bodyguards in tow was a walking army of instructor-level combatants.
Though they numbered only a dozen or so blades so clearly ill-suited for battle, they dispatched low-reiatsu ordinary Shinigami with the elegance of a cannon swatting mosquitoes.
At that mont, the remaining mbers of Ōetsu's bodyguards were tearing through the shinigami behind him, a whirlwind of unmatched slaughter.
"Hey! Where're you looking?!"
ra bellowed, unleashing a gout of roaring fla into the sky, sealing off his every escape.
Tsumiko's Bakudō shattered. She hefted a long hamr in one hand, a short one in the other, her stare icy.
Hasuka lingered at the rear, grinning at him.
Three of them, huh?
Makoto stood at the heart of the raging flas, eyeing the encirclent, his expression darkening briefly.
Then... a smirk curled his lips.
The more, the better.
A crowd makes the story lively!
---
[1] ra Hiuchigashima, Tsumiko Tsuchimiya, Hasuka Hashihara, Nonomi Nomino, and Tokie Tonokawa were Ōetsu Nimaiya's assistants and bodyguards, helping him in the forging of Zanpakutō, and a Zanpakutō Spirit.
***
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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