Killed For 100 Years in Hueco Mundo, Aizen Invited Me To Soul Society! Chapter 391 - 390: The Crimson Tide

The fact that Cang Du’s arm had been severed shocked even Bazz-B.

Cang Du’s Schrift, TheIron, gave him a defense few could match. It wasn’t flashy, but it was absolute. As long as his defense held, he could endure almost anything—and crush his enemies while they wasted their strength.

Until now.

Grimmjow’s savage claws had done nothing against him. His armor had been unbreakable—until Mazuru’s blade cleaved it apart in one strike.

Bazz-B exhaled slowly, his brow twitching. ’That kind of cutting power... is insane.’ he thought. ’Maybe only soone like that deserves to be called King of Hueco Mundo.’

The heat of his fury reignited. Flas roared once again around his body, and under his control, they gathered into a burning spiral, surging toward Mazuru.

Mazuru didn’t even glance at Cang Du, who stood nearby clutching his mutilated arm. He simply swung his saber. The heavy, crimson arc swept across the battlefield, colliding with the oncoming flas.

*Boom!*

A wave of scorching heat rolled outward, warping the air.

Cang Du gritted his teeth, hatred twisting his face. The humiliation of losing an arm burned hotter than Bazz-B’s fire—but beneath the rage was fear. That cut... that single cut... If Mazuru aid that sa blade at his head, he wouldn’t survive it.

As the clash between Mazuru and Bazz-B intensified, Cang Du quietly used Hirenkyaku to retreat, fleeing from the center of the battle.

He had barely moved when a voice drifted behind him—cold, mocking.

"It seems your defense isn’t that great after all."

Cang Du froze.

It was Grimmjow.

The arrancar’s body was a ruin of blood and bruises, barely standing, but his eyes glead like a starving wolf’s—vicious, determined, unbroken. The killing intent radiating from him was palpable.

"You were looking down on earlier." Grimmjow said, his voice low and rough. "Looks like karma’s fast today."

Cang Du turned, fury flashing in his eyes. "You dare insult ? You pathetic beast!"

Even with one arm, he lunged. He would crush Grimmjow if only to reclaim so of his lost pride.

Grimmjow bared his teeth, a feral grin splitting his face. "Try ."

The two collided once again—rage eting defiance.

anwhile, on the other side of the square, Ulquiorra, ever the observer, quietly stepped back. Like Askin before him, he retreated to the edge of the field, leaving the main fight to Mazuru and Bazz-B.

The flas intensified. Bazz-B raised his hands, his reishi spreading wide as torrents of fire poured from his palms.

Mazuru t them head-on. His saber moved in a simple, unhurried arc—and the flas split apart cleanly, as though sliced by air itself.

Everything his blade touched—solid steel, intangible fla, reishi, or air—was severed.

Bazz-B’s eyes narrowed. He rembered how easily Mazuru had shattered Burner Finger — Four earlier, and how he had carved through Cang Du’s Iron like paper. He knew this opponent’s strength—and that simple sword was more dangerous than any spell.

There was another thing that bothered him: this was still inside Mazuru’s barrier.

The air itself here belonged to the King. Even the reishi in the atmosphere bent to his control.

Bazz-B clenched his fists. "Heh. What Cang Du said earlier made hesitate to use this." he muttered. "But against you? You’re worth it."

Since Burner Finger — Four hadn’t worked, he would go further. He wouldn’t stop at normal flas. He would transcend.

Light erupted from his body, bathing the battlefield in blinding radiance.

*Whummmm—!*

When the light faded, his form had transford.

A glowing, five-pointed quincy star flared above his head, its lines pulsing with vertebral fire. Radiant wings of fla stretched from his back, and his entire form shimred with the divine geotry of a perfected quincy.

Bazz-B had entered Vollständig—his complete holy form.

"Askin. Mask. You two failed." he said under his breath. "But I won’t."

Raising one finger, he fired Burner Finger — Three once again.

This ti, it was different. The fire exploded outward, not as a beam but as a tidal wave. The ground beneath it blackened instantly; air itself shimred from the heat.

Mazuru watched calmly. "What a hot fla." he murmured. Then his voice lowered, and there was an edge of lancholy in it. "But still not as hot as the head-captain’s fire."

His crimson eyes reflected the crimson inferno. "Compared to Yamamoto Genryūsai’s Zanka no Tachi — the Kyokujitsujin, the Zanjitsu Gokui, and the Tenchi Kaijin — your flas are just sparks."

He raised his saber. "Allow to show you what kind of fire burns beneath blood."

*Shing!*

A surge of crimson energy erupted from his blade. The ground split as a towering wave of blood-energy rose into the sky.

It t Bazz-B’s inferno—

and erased it.

*BOOOOOM!*

The sea of blood swallowed everything. The flas were consud, suffocated by crimson mist that surged outward like a living tide.

Bazz-B’s jaw clenched. His flas had been neutralized—again.

He grit his teeth and thrust out both hands. "Then try this! Burner Finger — Four!"

In his Vollständig state, the attack was even greater than before. The flas expanded violently, reaching temperatures high enough to liquefy the desert sand beneath their feet.

But Mazuru didn’t even flinch. His eyes glowed faintly as the blood mist thickened around him.

His Blood Sea rose higher, its waves twisting with a crimson luster. Unlike Harribel’s Cascada, his sea was not made of water—but of spiritual law.

The red ocean devoured not matter, but existence itself.

Even fire—pure as it seed—required substance to burn. Oxygen, reishi, or sothing else as fuel. And under Mazuru’s control, the Blood Sea consud that fuel before Bazz-B’s flas could even ignite it.

The fire vanished before it lived.

The mighty Burner Finger — Four dissolved into the air, undone before its true power could be unleashed.

Bazz-B stared in disbelief. "What—?!"

Then sothing cold brushed against his leg. He looked down.

A tendril of crimson mist had crawled up his feet, coiling around his legs like a serpent.

*Shhhhhh—*

Before he could react, the mist tightened, freezing him in place.

Not just him.

Across the battlefield, Askin—still reeling from his defeat—felt it too. The sa blood mist snaked up his limbs, pinning him where he stood.

Cang Du, locked in his duel with Grimmjow, froze mid-step, his blade arm halted by the sa invisible weight. Even Quilge Opie, who had just reerged from his dinsional Jail after sensing the collapse of the Gift Bereich, found his body wrapped in threads of red.

The mist filled the air, leaving no gap unclaid. Hirenkyaku was useless. Even flight couldn’t escape it. Wherever they turned, the blood was there—thick, omnipresent, unavoidable.

"What the hell did you do?!" Cang Du roared, straining against the crimson bindings that held him like chains.

Mazuru turned his gaze toward him, eyes half-lidded. "That’s the wrong question."

He took a step forward. The blood mist rippled with the movent.

"You shouldn’t be asking what I did." he said quietly. "You should be explaining—why did the quincy co to Hueco Mundo at all?"

The words struck harder than any attack.

Cang Du’s jaw tightened, but before he could respond, Askin spoke—his composure returning at last.

He smiled weakly, trying to sound diplomatic.

"We ca," he said slowly, "under His Majesty’s command... to visit you—the King of Hueco Mundo."

*****

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✓ Killed For 100 Years in Hueco Mundo, Aizen Invited To Soul Society!

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