Chapter 344: The Return of the Demonic God!
Scratching his head as he looked at Ryūjin Jakka vibrating and buzzing in the ground, Satoru wondered.
Was it just his imagination, or was this sword calling out to him?
Had this sword lost its mind?
Why was it calling to him instead of urgently summoning its master?
After a moment's thought, he reached out and pulled Ryūjin Jakka from the ground.
The instant the hilt settled into his grasp, Ryūjin Jakka's emotions surged into Satoru like a tidal wave.
Frowning, Satoru closed his eyes, absorbing the thoughts transmitted by Ryūjin Jakka.
A few seconds later, he opened his eyes, his expression one of profound distress.
"So that's it... I understand now."
"To think Teacher would commit such atrocities against you—it's utterly deplorable, an outrage to both man and god!"
In Ryūjin Jakka's memories, Yamamoto had used it to grill food, warm his room, dehumidify during the rainy season...
The most outrageous part was even using it to dry socks after washing!
Ryūjin Jakka had endured Yamamoto's crimes for far too long.
Today, with this rare opportunity, it finally made up its mind.
Rebellion!
It had finally encountered someone with the strength to wield it, excellent compatibility, and most importantly—the audacity to attack Yamamoto.
If it didn't seize this chance, who knew when the next opportunity to strike Yamamoto would come?
Whoosh!!
Blazing white flames erupted from Ryūjin Jakka.
On the other side, Yamamoto drew Risō Jakumetsu.
Just like its counterpart, Risō Jakumetsu flooded him with chaotic memories.
Watching the scenes of Satoru repeatedly discarding the sword with practiced ease, Yamamoto couldn't help but click his tongue.
How could there be a Shinigami in this world who showed such disrespect to their Zanpakutō?!
The Zanpakutō was the foundation of a Shinigami's existence, a friend of the soul—how could it be treated this way?
In that moment, Yamamoto and Risō Jakumetsu reached an emotional consensus.
Both were comrades driven to hypertension by Satoru's antics, and today they would form a united front to teach that brat a harsh lesson!
In a flash of light, Risō Jakumetsu transformed into dual blades gripped in Yamamoto's hands.
Black chains coiled around his arms.
Yamamoto swung the blades experimentally and nodded in satisfaction.
Having often sparred with his foolish disciple, he was quite familiar with Risō Jakumetsu's usage.
Crucially, Risō Jakumetsu was partially fire-aligned, making it virtually effortless to wield.
As Yamamoto channeled his Reiatsu, blue flames roared to life.
When his spiritual pressure flowed into Risō Jakumetsu's blade, Yamamoto sensed he'd activated its armor-piercing ability.
The effect of ignoring all defenses filled him with an overwhelming sense of invincibility.
This wasn't mere psychology—it was genuine mental influence.
Yamamoto's face darkened.
If a Zanpakutō—part of a Shinigami's soul—could instill such powerful confidence in him just through usage, how insufferably arrogant must Satoru himself be normally?
Satoru's Reiatsu flowed into Ryūjin Jakka.
An intense will to protect transmitted from the blade, merging with his spirit.
Feeling the surge of determination in his heart, Satoru shook his head with a tsk.
"Protection? Too pure, too naive."
"Rather than protection, completely annihilating anything that threatens what you guard—that's the correct approach!"
With this declaration, Satoru's expression sharpened, eyes widening.
Gripping Ryūjin Jakka with both hands, he swung horizontally toward Yamamoto, trailing elongated arcs of flame!
Yamamoto spread his arms wide, holding both Risō Jakumetsu blades, and charged at Satoru!
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!!!
The Dangai echoed with terrifying explosions.
"Kyahaha!! Gahahaha!!"
Satoru was ecstatic.
Though he'd occasionally stolen Ryūjin Jakka for cooking, this was his first time using it in actual combat.
Swinging the flaming blade forward repeatedly, leaving trails of fire in its wake—the sensation was utterly exhilarating.
Outside the Dangai, the observers felt as if they'd witnessed something that would make Komamura blush.
Ukitake stared in bewilderment before turning to Shunsui Kyōraku.
"Kyōraku... how is this possible? Can the Captain-Commander and Satoru forcibly use each other's Zanpakutō?"
Shunsui Kyōraku wore a pained smile.
He shook his head. "Impossible. Unless someone possesses an ability like Muramasa's, no one can forcibly wield another's Zanpakutō."
"The old man and Satoru have simply tacitly accepted each other's use of their Zanpakutō."
"As the primary souls, if they didn't permit the other to utilize their Zanpakutō's abilities, the swords wouldn't be able to manifest much power no matter how willing they were to cooperate."
"This old and young pair are purely enjoying a new way of playing around."
Hearing this, Ukitake's face darkened with exasperation.
A Captain-Commander and an Eleventh Division captain—could they be any more irresponsible?!
After explaining the situation above to Ukitake, Kyōraku turned his head to gaze at the distant streets of Seireitei.
Sensing the chaotic Reiatsu emanating from there, he raised a hand to adjust his straw hat.
The current situation had grown so convoluted that even he couldn't make sense of it anymore.
Seated Officers from the Eleventh Division, various squad captains supporting the young junior brother, and Menos Grande from Hueco Mundo...
Multiple factions were intricately entangled.
Viewed optimistically, this could be treated as a family matter where everyone maintains peace and returns to their respective places.
Viewed pessimistically... it could escalate into a struggle for the highest authority in the Soul Society.
The teacher and his young junior brother were already practically like grandfather and grandson—neither of them would likely care much about these matters.
But their followers wouldn't be so detached.
Especially on the young junior brother's side.
Ah... just thinking about it gave him a headache.
Well, it's none of my concern.
Whatever the final outcome, I can continue being a carefree captain.
At this thought, Kyōraku couldn't help but grin, then quickly composed himself.
No, no—this is a serious situation, mustn't laugh.
Hehehe.
...
...
Ryūjin Jakka resembled a miniature black hole, continuously devouring Satoru's Reiatsu and converting it into all-consuming flames.
Even Yamamoto dared not be so reckless in the face of such massive consumption.
During combat, he generally kept Ryūjin Jakka's output within a relatively small range. Only when unleashing ultimate techniques would he let Ryūjin Jakka voraciously devour his Reiatsu.
But this foolish disciple before him was different.
Under Yamamoto's astonished gaze—so shocked he felt like he'd seen Komamura get violated—Satoru poured Reiatsu into Ryūjin Jakka as if it cost him nothing.
Soon, the Dangai was filled with blazing flames everywhere.
If this were a game, the graphics card would surely be screaming in agony.
Yamamoto continuously dodged and weaved, evading the pursuing sea of fire.
As Ryūjin Jakka's master, he knew perfectly well that with Satoru's current usage rate, he would exhaust his Reiatsu in no time.
Unexpectedly, Satoru proved to be even more monstrous than he had imagined.
Several times, Yamamoto thought Satoru should have depleted his Reiatsu, drained dry like an empty lamp.
Yet the kid kept fighting.
Just how much Reiatsu did this guy possess?
Was the power of Hollowfication really this potent?
For a fleeting moment, Yamamoto even considered trying Hollowfication himself.
But he immediately dismissed the thought.
Satoru could do this because he was a Shinigami of the new era.
As a remnant of the previous era, he naturally held his own pride and principles within.
If one sought power, it should come through training—ceaseless training.
What kind of method was relying on the power of Hollows?
In that moment of distraction, Yamamoto failed to dodge in time and was slashed by Satoru.
Sizzle!!!
Scorching flames instantly surged into his body.
Though his vast Reiatsu suppressed them almost immediately, a patch of his skin and flesh inevitably charred.
The aroma of cooked meat wafted through the air.
The wound was painful, itchy, and unbearable, yet Yamamoto grinned.
He sensed that Satoru's Reiatsu had bottomed out.
The entire Dangai was now filled with flames.
He was sweating profusely, with almost nowhere left to escape.
At this critical juncture, Satoru's Reiatsu had finally run out.
Now was the moment for his counterattack!
Fight back fiercely, beat this brat into pulp!
Yamamoto gripped his dual swords, ready to reverse their roles of attacker and defender.
But just then, he watched in shock as Satoru took a deep breath.
With that action, the kid's Reiatsu surged layer by layer, restoring to perfect condition in an instant!
"???"
Yamamoto nearly lost his composure.
What kind of joke was this... What sorcery was this?
In a hidden laboratory somewhere, Aizen, wearing a Hollowfication mask, continued operating the screen before him.
His golden pupils, hidden behind the mask, held a trace of helplessness.
What had that madman done?
He'd only been out for a short while—how could he already be out of Reiatsu?
So troublesome.
Back in the Dangai, Satoru laughed heartily and continued pouring Reiatsu wildly into Ryūjin Jakka.
Yamamoto's face changed dramatically.
This was bad.
All his previous actions had been predicated on Satoru's Reiatsu being nearly depleted.
Now, with Satoru's Reiatsu suddenly fully restored, all his earlier concessions had become shackles binding him.
The omnipresent flames in the Dangai left him with no escape route.
If the fight continued, even as the invincible Yamamoto Shigekuni, he probably wouldn't get off unscathed.
Damn it, was his lifelong reputation going to be ruined by this damned brat?
Just as Yamamoto prepared for a last-ditch battle, determined to fight to the death, the Risō Jakumetsu in his hand suddenly emitted a light.
Under Yamamoto's astonished gaze, Risō Jakumetsu shone with a dazzling brilliance.
The radiance spread from his hand, enveloping his entire body.
In the blink of an eye, the light faded away.
A pair of iron claws now covered his arms.
A silver, semi-covered helmet with steel trident-like horns rested atop his head.
Golden shields unfolded behind his back, resembling a pair of wings.
A surging power erupted from within Yamamoto.
He felt as if he could tear the entire world apart!
Under the watchful eyes of those outside the Dangai, Yamamoto let out a furious roar, crossing his arms over his chest.
Then, he flung them wide open!
A terrifying wave of Reiatsu surged outward, sweeping across the surroundings.
The sea of flames that had engulfed the entire space was forcibly pushed back, clearing a vacant area under the impact.
Satoru stared in shock:
"Impossible! How could my invincible Ryūjin Jakka be defeated!"
Yamamoto grinned like an Asura.
"Brat, prepare to die!!"
His wings spread wide behind him, and as if accelerated to infinite speed, he instantly appeared before Satoru.
Sharp iron claws swung down fiercely toward Satoru!
Faced with such a ferocious attack, Satoru showed no trace of fear, raising his blade to meet it—
BOOM!!!!
The moment their attacks collided, Satoru's body was sent flying like a cannonball, crashing into the wall of the Dangai.
The shattered wall, while repairing itself, attempted to pull Satoru inside.
The walls of the Dangai were a unique natural phenomenon; once swallowed, one would be trapped in the chaotic flows of time and space, with almost no chance of returning to reality.
Yet, at this moment, Satoru paid no heed to this terrifying peril.
Gripping Ryūjin Jakka, he tore away the dark sludge of the Dangai clinging to him and stood up.
"Heh, so this is the Bankai of Risō Jakumetsu… Impressive, I'll give you that."
"But we won't lose either!"
"Ryūjin Jakka, let them witness it—the bond, the resolve, the power that belongs to you and me!!"
Satoru roared, raising Ryūjin Jakka high.
Seeing his action, Yamamoto's expression changed drastically.
Hum—
As if an invisible tide swept over everything in existence.
In an instant, Yamamoto felt it difficult to even breathe.
The scorching air was unbearably dry.
Inhaling it into his lungs and exhaling felt as though a single breath could drain all the moisture from his body.
Gazing at Satoru's current form, Yamamoto's eyes were filled with profound complexity.
Blazing flames, like a magnificent robe, enveloped Satoru's entire body, roiling and boiling.
The blade itself burned with a wrathful fire that seemed as if it would never extinguish.
It was a form he had once known intimately.
A form he believed would never again appear in this world.
Outside the Dangai, in the square of the Seireitei, Shunsui Kyōraku took a deep breath.
A demon god.
That was a painting he had seen on the wall in Yamamoto's study when he sneaked in as a child.
The figure in the painting was exactly the form Satoru now took.
He still remembered how Old Man Yama had flown into a rage back then, punishing him severely.
Despite the searing pain in his backside, Shunsui had stubbornly pressed for answers about what was depicted in the painting.
He recalled Yamamoto's response clearly.
"That is a demon god who should not exist in this world."
"His appearance heralds the end of everything."
Swish!
Retsu Unohana's figure appeared beside him.
She lifted her head, gazing at the massive void in the sky.
Looking deep into the Dangai, at the fiercely burning figure, her eyes filled with nostalgia.
A thousand years ago, it was this power that had effortlessly defeated her, compelling her to willingly join the Gotei 13.
She had thought that as Yamamoto grew old, she would never again witness this invincible form.
Unexpectedly, she could see it once more today.
Truly... the man to whom she had devoted her entire being.
Retsu Unohana took a deep breath, her expression becoming intoxicated.
Amidst the flames, Satoru raised his hand and examined his own form.
"Strange. When my teacher uses Risō Jakumetsu's Bankai, his appearance is quite similar to mine. So why does using Ryūjin Jakka change my form so drastically?"
"And that sword that looked like charred wood—why is it burning so fiercely now?"
Though puzzled, he quickly brushed these thoughts aside.
"Never mind, it doesn't matter."
"I can feel it—my soul is blazing fiercely, my will is roaring!"
"Today is the day I slay my master to prove my path!!"
A vein bulged on Yamamoto's forehead.
His blood pressure spiked!