Cirucci pounced at Kazuya like a ravenous predator. With a swift and ferocious swing of her whip, she commanded the golden disc to swivel towards him, the spinning blade hungry to cleave him in half.
Yet Kazuya vaulted over the lethal whirlwind of steel, evading its deadly embrace. In a blink, he employed his Sonído skill once more, flashing away to another mountain in the distance.
His Sonido was extrely polished, so much so that Cirucci was having a hard ti catching him with her Zanpakutō. This speed enhancent ability, however, had a steep cost in Reiryoku. As a gifted Vasto Lorde, he had all the Reiryoku in the world to run circles around the goth Arrancar for a day or two.
He wasn’t looking to just run, though. He wanted to defeat her with his own hands. To prove that Harribel’s training bore a fruit sweeter than honey.
Cirucci, hot on his heels, swung her whip in an enormous arc. He leaped over the trajectory and dodged the follow-up attacks like a specter.
“Well, enough running around.”
Cirucci made a twisted face. “I should be saying that. Stop and face your punishnt, hooligan.”
His flashy maneuvers gave her whip a hard ti.
Kazuya flashed a wicked smile and his knuckles sparked with a gentle blue light. “You asked for it, woman. Don’t cry now.”
“What is that?” Cirucci asked, narrowing her eyes. “It looks like Reiatsu but it’s more than that…. Is that your special ability?”
All Hollows had a guaranteed chance of developing a special ability once they beca Arrancar. An ability based upon their soul. They could use their ability at the Vasto Lorde stage, albeit to a limited degree. However, Arrancars could fully unleash their ability in their Resurrección state.
“Maybe.”
“Cocky, eh? I’ll obliterate all your resistance and ta you… before gifting you to our leader.”
She had cut down countless of her kind to reach her current position in Barragan’s army. She could tell the battle would take too long in her current form.
She chose to use her trump card.
“Rip off… Golondrina!”
Cirucci erupted with a blast of pink Reiatsu. Her Resurrección form materialized, changing her into an imnse white swallow-like figure. A large beak-like headpiece covered her forehead, a long feathery growing mane growing from it. She also grew two pairs of wings; one composed of five slender tallic discs on each side and the other with normal feathers.
She went from a normal-looking woman to a winged-predator at a mont’s notice.
Grinning, she flashed her enormous yet thin claw. “Are you ready to be sliced apart, pitiful guy?”
“This form just eased my guilty conscience about beating a beautiful woman.”
Just as Cirucci lunged at him, a figure flickered in her path, interrupting the battle before it started.
An imposing figure, stood tall and well-built with an air of sinister playfulness. His black hair styled to resemble two demonic horns and the remnants of his Hollow mask were a stark white plate adorning his forehead.
“Dun dana dana dat dat ta.” The intruder pointed at Cirucci with a dramatic pose. “Hey, old friend. Fancy running into you here… in the middle of nowhere.”
He lied as naturally as a chaleon changing colors. He had been stalking Cirucci ever since she left their base.
Neither Kazuya nor Cirucci looked all too happy about the new guest. He was, after all, another one of Espada. An Arrancar even stronger than Cirucci.
She growled at her ‘co-worker’, like a beast prepared to devour another. “Fuck off, Dordoni. I told you to stay behind.”
She had vehently refused to accept help from another Espada to experience a stimulus to her inner heart. She believed she could crush Harribel and Kazuya single-handedly and deliver them to Las Noches on her own.
“Using the released form against a young fawn is unbefitting of our status.” Dordoni Alessandro Del Socaccio crossed his arms with a sowhat solemn expression. There was no reason for him to obey Cirucci, who was below him in both Espada rankings and power. “We ca here to escort this Niño to our king, not kill him.”
The young fawn in question was undoubtedly the Vasto Lorde rearing to throw down with Cirucci.
Kazuya put out his innate ability and sighed. “Cirucci is right, Niño. Stay out of her business. Let kick her ass.”
Dordoni’s eyes widened. “You said Niño as one should. Incredible, Niño.”
“...Move or I’ll have to kill you both.”
Kazuya’s eyes glowed with the ferocity of a beast. He despised two types of people the most — those who butted in other’s business for no reason and those who projected their beliefs upon others, expecting them to do what’s right in their eyes.
Dordoni belonged to the forr category, albeit to a less annoying degree.
The unfazed Arrancar laughed. “Go ahead then, Niño. Have your wish. I’ll not save you if she kills you.”
Dordoni didn’t wait for an answer and flickered to a hill in the distance with his Sonído, taking the role of an observer over a participant. Cirucci would answer to Baraggan should any Vasto Lorde die here. It wouldn’t be his responsibility. A win win for him since he despised eting Baraggan.
“Nobody is killing my people,” a cold voice echoed as Harribel appeared in front of Kazuya, as his guardian. Her Reiatsu swelled to the very limits of a Vasto Lorde, as if provoking Cirucci to lay her hands on Kazuya. “I. Dare. You.”
Cirucci's rage simred and swelled like a tempest. Consud by fury, she roared and launched all ten blade wings at Harribel. The spiritual particles vibrated at extre speeds around the edges of her blade wings, enough to bisect a Vasto Lorde in half with ease.
Kazuya felt a cold shiver run down his spine. “Move!”
Harribel, steeling herself for the onslaught, straightened her sword arm, ready to deflect the blades head-on. Her intention was driven not by pride, but by the fierce determination to protect Kazuya from harm.
Without another thought, Kazuya seized Harribel and employed his Sonído skill to whisk them out of the path of Cirucci's ferocious assault.
“Are you stupid?” he admonished, pushing her shoulder. “You almost died. What are you even thinking?”
He noticed her montary distraction, her gaze lingering not on his face, but on his arm.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The chilling sound drew his attention, and he flinched. Blood flowed in crimson waves, staining the pristine white sands of Hueco Mundo like paint on an artist's canvas. Harribel ca out unscathed from their encounter with Cirucci’s Resurrección form but he wasn’t so lucky.
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