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"What's going on?!"
"The old man's aura, that sky-piercing spiritual pressure, it's rapidly compressing back into his body. Even the flames of Ryūjin Jakka aren't violent anymore!"
Inside the Thirteenth Division.
Shunsui Kyōraku stared fixedly at the screen, brows knitting tighter as the flames in the image dwindled lower and lower.
This was far too strange.
If the goal was to completely strip away Yhwach's flesh, then Ryūjin Jakka's destructive power should be on full display.
Unless…
The thought hit him like lightning.
Kyōraku's eyes flew wide open. His lips trembled as he forced out a few shaken words.
"Don't tell me… Old Man Yama… he's planning to use Bankai?"
Ryūjin Jakka's Bankai.
A legendary power that even he, as Yamamoto's direct disciple, had never once witnessed.
According to legend, a thousand years ago, during the genocidal war between the Soul Reapers and the Quincy—
On a battlefield littered with corpses, there appeared a horrifying flame monster that slaughtered indiscriminately, friend and foe alike.
Even today, ancient oil paintings depicting that creature were still preserved in the art halls of the Shinō Academy and within the Grand Spiritual Library Corridor at the center of Seireitei.
And Kyōraku knew the truth all too well.
That so-called flame monster was none other than Old Man Yama after releasing his Bankai.
A thousand years ago, he was nothing like the man he was now.
To annihilate his enemies, he would pay any price. The lives of his subordinates, even half of Soul Society itself, were acceptable sacrifices.
Who would have thought—
After a millennium, the caged tiger was finally being unleashed again!
That terrifying flame monster was about to reappear in the world!
"Look!"
"The flames are shrinking faster now! The video's getting clearer too. He really is about to use Bankai…"
Jūshirō Ukitake pointed shakily at the translucent screen, his face drained pale with worry.
Those vanishing flames didn't mean the battle was ending. They were the calm before a catastrophic storm.
Once Ryūjin Jakka's Bankai was released, the danger wouldn't be limited to Yhwach alone.
It wouldn't even stop at the future of Seireitei.
It would include everyone watching this video right now.
That was what terrified Ukitake the most.
Unfortunately…
As nothing more than a spectator, no amount of anxiety could change a thing.
All he could do was watch as the final wisp of flame on the ground flickered out.
At that moment—
With the tornado-like inferno gone, the video revealed a scene like the world after a cleansing rain. Everything looked newly reborn.
Bright light fell across the Head Captain's body, casting a long, slender shadow across the scorched ground.
At the same time—
The surface of Ryūjin Jakka changed.
Its long, ancient blade no longer gleamed with a sword's cold shine. Instead, it had turned jet-black, like charred iron scraps.
"Hm?!"
Yhwach frowned and lowered his gaze, eyes locking onto the pitch-black katana.
His expression froze along with the vanished flames.
"This is… Bankai?"
A violent wave of dread and palpitations surged through him. He instinctively took a step back, widening the distance between himself and the Head Captain.
That single step made one thing painfully clear.
In that instant, Yhwach had flinched.
"So the pain from a thousand years ago still hasn't left you, has it, Yhwach…"
Gripping the blackened blade, the Head Captain stepped forward.
There were no flames coiling around his arms or rising behind him anymore.
Yet the old man's presence was far more terrifying than before.
If earlier he was like an ancient volcano in furious eruption—
Then now, the Head Captain, along with the black blade in his hand, was like a magnitude-ten earthquake buried deep in the planet's core, ready to tear apart the crust and unleash a world-ending tsunami.
A supreme power capable of destroying all of Soul Society erupted forth, accompanied by an ancient, resonant release call that echoed across both present and future.
"Bankai—!!!"
"Zanka no Tachi!!!"
"How completely unexpected…"
"That little charred blade, the one that looks like it survived being burned to scraps, is actually Ryūjin Jakka's Bankai? The contrast is insane…"
Several meters away from the translucent screen, Ichimaru Gin had nearly retreated all the way to the wall.
He didn't dare get any closer.
And yes—
It wasn't just Yhwach.
As a spectator, Gin's foxlike smile had frozen solid the moment Zanka no Tachi appeared.
Ryūjin Jakka's Shikai had already pushed suppression to the absolute limit. Through several scenes, its fearsome reputation had shaken all three realms.
And yet…
With no flames and a drastically smaller form, Zanka no Tachi looked far less aggressive at first glance.
But after getting burned more than once already, no one dared gamble anymore.
Like Gin, most of the viewers instinctively retreated as far back as possible.
Just in case they got caught in the blast again.
"No, the flames didn't disappear. They were all sealed inside that blackened blade…"
Aizen, with his terrifying insight, immediately saw through the secret of Zanka no Tachi.
Compared to flames that covered the sky and scorched the heavens—
Compressing all that fire meant compressing all its destructive power into a single, razor-sharp point.
That was the truly frightening part.
"Sealing the flames inside itself?"
Gin blinked, completely baffled.
Hadn't the so-called Fire-Extinguishing Prince already used the same trick once before?
What was going on here?
As if responding directly to his confusion, the Head Captain in the video spoke again, his actions answering the question.
"Yhwach…"
"You should never forget this blade, for as long as you exist."
The Head Captain lifted his eyes slightly, held Zanka no Tachi at his side, then took a single step forward.
"Boom!"
Under the pounding of wooden sandals, the ground beneath the Captain-Commander's feet shattered.
That aged body leapt skyward like a detonating shell, and at the same time he swung the charred blade in his hand, cleaving down toward Yhwach from above.
"My Bankai, Zanka no Tachi: East," the old man declared, his voice like scorched iron,"seals every last flame of Ryūjin Jakka into the very tip of this blade!"
"It does not burn. It does not explode."
"Anything it touches is erased completely, without a trace."
"Just like what you're about to experience!"
The words fell.
And with them, the slash of Zanka no Tachi came crashing down from the sky.
"Tch…"Even as his expression twisted, Yhwach forced a mocking smile. "Yamamoto Genryūsai, thanks for explaining your ability. All I have to do is avoid the tip of your sword, right?"
"Flying Sickle Step—!"
He tried to escape.
But he had badly underestimated the speed of that swing.
Before the gathering of spirit particles beneath his feet could even begin, the scorched sword tip was already about to shave his head clean off.
"Damn it…"
Heat roared against his face at point-blank range.
Yhwach's expression changed instantly. Acting on pure instinct, he snapped his spirit blade up in front of him, trying to buy even a fraction of a second through the clash of steel.
And then—
Something happened that made his eyes nearly split.
Contact.
Melting.
Erasure.
There was no sound of metal colliding.
In the blink of an eye, the upper half of the sword in Yhwach's hands vanished into nothingness, neatly cut away by Zanka no Tachi.
He stared at the bare hilt left in his grip.
A crushing sense of death seized his heart.
Yhwach twisted his body again, forcing himself to dodge with everything he had.
In the end, the sword tip stopped less than an inch from his face.
But the blood-red cloak whipping behind him brushed against the blade, and before everyone's eyes, it disappeared instantly.
"Now you understand," Yamamoto said.
He withdrew his swing and rested Zanka no Tachi at his side, his gaze dark as it locked onto the shaken Yhwach.
"Even after a thousand years between our battles…"
"Time does not erase the gap between us. And you will be erased by my hand for a second time."
He reversed his grip.
The old man's eyelids lowered slightly.
At that moment, a thunderous shockwave rippled outward, like a blazing solar corona erupting around him.
"If there is an East, then there is a West!"
"I have no choice. Even if it means harming the Seireitei itself, I will make you experience true despair!"
In that instant—
The temperature skyrocketed by thousands of degrees.
The entire Soul Society became a colossal steel-smelting furnace, on the verge of being burned to nothing.
"..."
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