Killed For 100 Years in Hueco Mundo, Aizen Invited Me To Soul Society! Chapter 334: Fall of the Sun

It happened in an instant—a snap in the air where the world twisted, then settled into a cruel clarity.

The battlefield, once hazy with swirling reiatsu, suddenly stood stark and sharp. Blood soaked the earth, and the acrid scent of burning spirit energy clawed at every nostril.

All eyes turned to Mazuru.

His Zanpakutō had been shattered—obliterated mid-Bankai in a brutal clash no one believed he could survive. Yet here he was, standing tall, breathing steadily, and more terrifying than ever.

He tore open the barrier once more—not with the familiar blade of his Zanpakutō, but with sothing darker, sothing foreign to the Soul Society. An arrancar’s Resurrección.

Shock rippled through the ranks of the Gotei 13. Such a fusion was unprecedented.

Mazuru was an enigma. His soul intertwined with Beelzebub—a hollow of imnse power, once an Espada feared for his rciless command over blood and devouring.

If Beelzebub was truly a fragnt of Mazuru’s spirit, then the blade Mazuru now wielded wasn’t rely an arrancar weapon. It was his own sword, reborn in hollow-form.

The Central 46 had only recently begun to acknowledge the terrifying possibility that Zanpakutō and arrancar powers might intertwine—and here, that theory exploded into brutal reality.

The Resurrección—once dismissed as an aberration—had beco a new frontier in the war of souls.

And now, Mazuru stood at the epicenter of that war.

...

The air thrumd with tension.

Captain-Commander Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni stepped forward, his eyes afla beneath his brows.

"Since this old man shattered your Zanpakutō," he said, voice low but carrying the weight of centuries, "I will also destroy your Resurrección."

His presence radiated overwhelming reiatsu, a searing inferno that warped the very air.

With a flash of movent—Shunpo—Yamamoto closed the distance in an instant.

His sword erupted in fla—Zanka no Tachi, Kita: Tenchi Kaijin—the North form of his Bankai, the burning blade that reduced heaven and earth to ash.

The fiery arc he swung carved through the battlefield, consuming everything: rock, soil, spiritual particles—all turned to molten ruin.

A fissure opened in the barrier, cracking its shimring barrier.

For a heartbeat, hope surged.

But then the breach sealed itself, as if ti reversed its damage.

Mazuru’s voice whispered behind Yamamoto’s back.

"Did you think the power I regained would be so weak?"

In a blink, Mazuru reappeared beside Yamamoto, his Resurrección blade gleaming with lethal intent.

Yamamoto responded instantly, his attack poised to strike.

But the flas licking his body—the Zanjitsu Gokui, said to incinerate even the smallest fragnts of spirit—did not harm Mazuru.

His flesh did not blister. His blade did not lt.

Yamamoto’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Even the sun—mighty and eternal—must one day wither.

...

Baraggan Louisenbairn, the forr Segunda (2nd) Espada, had wielded the power of aging and decay. Yet despite his overwhelming authority, Baraggan’s power was slow, weighed down by his own decrepit form.

Mazuru’s bond with Beelzebub had transford that power, sharpening it into sothing far more lethal.

His blade pulsed with the corrosive aura of ti itself.

Yamamoto’s flas blackened, corroded by the relentless decay.

Ti began gnawing at the fabric of fla and flesh alike.

Yamamoto launched forward, moving with blistering speed—Shunpo honed over centuries.

Mazuru was faster.

He didn’t just dash through space.

He folded it.

Hiraishin Zangeki! (Flying Thunder God Slash)

The infamous Flying Thunder God Slash from another universe.

Mazuru’s blade flickered, warping space as it materialized inches from Yamamoto’s throat.

...

A severed arm flew across the battlefield, trailing smoke and embers.

Yamamoto staggered back, breathing ragged, his Bankai dissipating.

His Zanpakutō snapped shut, sealing away its imnse power.

...

"Yama-jii!"

Shunsui’s voice broke through the roar of battle, disbelief ringing clear.

Mazuru, fully rged with Beelzebub, radiated an aura of deathly stillness.

The barrier pulsed with unstable power, its fiery heart reduced to ash beneath the relentless decay.

And with one ruthless strike, Mazuru had severed the arm of the strongest captain.

...

Suddenly, the battlefield exploded with light and sound.

A blast of spiritual energy—a black and crimson beam—ripped through the air.

CERO!

Starrk had fired.

Shunsui barely dodged the deadly attack, earth erupting where he had stood monts before.

Starrk’s cold voice cut through the chaos.

"You worry about others... at a ti like this?"

Shunsui’s expression hardened. His resolve did not falter.

All across the field, shinigami surged forward—Captains, Lieutenants, Officers—ready to protect their Commander.

But the Espada ford a wall, ready to et them.

Mazuru advanced, dragging the Resurrección, which thrumd with the slow, inevitable power of decay.

"Looks like I win."

Blood poured from Yamamoto’s severed shoulder, but the Captain-Commander rose—unyielding.

With a roar that shook the battlefield, he lunged.

Hadō #96: Ittō Kasō!

The One-Sword Cremation.

A massive, flaming blade descended from the heavens, blazing with divine fury.

It slashed toward Mazuru, consuming the air with heat.

Mazuru’s left hand rose lazily.

SNAP!

The burning sword evaporated—annihilated by an unseen force.

"Kidō attacks condensed with reiatsu? Useless against ."

Mazuru’s voice was calm, deadly.

Before Yamamoto could retreat, Mazuru drove his blade deep into the old man’s chest.

The blade pierced through, erging from his back—blackened and bloodied.

"You lose, old man."

...

The battle had shifted.

Mazuru, the fusion of shinigami and hollow, wielded powers that bent the laws of both worlds.

His Resurrección was no re transformation—it showed the ultimate evolution of spirit and decay.

Yamamoto, the eternal fla of the Soul Society, had been dimd.

But the war was far from over.

*****

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