The Detached Palaces fell into a dead silence as several shocked gazes stared at the black shadow towering between heaven and earth.
Everyone knew exactly what it was.
As the entities guarding the Spirit King, the Zero Division had their bodies enhanced by the Spirit King's power the moment they were promoted, transforming them into the Oken.
Although this black shadow differed slightly from the power of the Oken, it was fundamentally a power of the exact same origin.
That overflowing power of the Spirit King instantly blanketed the entire Detached Palaces, bringing the flow of air to a standstill.
Aizen stared blankly at that god-like existence. Countless fragmented black shadows slithered across its profound body like winding black snakes.
Countless branch-like offshoots recklessly absorbed the chaotic and complex Reiatsu in the air, continuously spreading between the scorched black fissures.
In the blink of an eye, Aizen figured out the crux of the matter.
Ichibē Hyōsube's target wasn't Naraku Sora—or rather, Sora was merely collateral. His primary objective was the power of the Divine Eye buried deep within Ukitake Jūshirō's lungs.
The One-Eyed Great God, Mimihagi.
He also had a much more common name: the Right Arm of the Spirit King!
Almost the instant the black shadow appeared, Ichibē Hyōsube's eyes turned completely blank. His Reiatsu condensed into a physical substance and abruptly expanded, causing the entire Detached Palaces to tremble.
"Blacken out, Ichimonji!"
Ink dripped from the tip as the weapon rapidly shifted back and forth between a sharp white blade and a black calligraphy brush.
Ichibē swung Ichimonji, scattering countless drops of ink that shot straight up into the sky.
"You old thief, do you think I don't exist?"
Seeing the monk shift his target, Naraku Sora was furious. He had painstakingly pushed himself to achieve a half-released Bankai state, only for his enemy to bail halfway through the fight.
It immediately made him feel as though all his efforts had been completely wasted.
Moreover, this thick-eyebrowed, seemingly honest fellow Ichibē wasn't attacking just anyone; he was targeting Sora's sworn brother, his dearest friend.
No matter what this guy's actual goal was, Sora absolutely could not let him succeed.
Even if he couldn't completely stop him, throwing a wrench into his plans would be highly satisfying.
Having lived for a million years, scheming against this and that every single day—this guy wasn't just your average crafty old bastard anymore. He needed to be hit with a heavy fist!
Although the exact abilities of his Bankai remained unknown, the one thing he could be certain of was that his raw stats had received an unprecedented boost, an amplification even greater than his Hollowfication.
At the same time, Naraku Sora finally understood why learning Bankai was significantly harder for him than for other Soul Reapers.
One crucial reason was that his current base stats were simply absurdly high.
Normally, possessing Second-Class Spiritual Power, combined with a perfect understanding of a Soul Reaper's own power reflected upon their blade, was enough to achieve the pinnacle of Shikai.
If it were any normal Soul Reaper, they would have naturally completed their Bankai training long ago.
But Naraku Sora was different. He also possessed seventy percent Hollowfication, a one hundred percent enhancement to his spiritual body's durability, and an absolutely heaven-defying one hundred percent growth rate.
Stacking these buffs layer upon layer allowed him to clash head-on with Yamamoto while only at Second-Class Spiritual Power, and even wound a transcendent being like Ichibē Hyōsube.
Of course, it was still unknown just how much the monk had been holding back.
The only certainty was that if any other Soul Reaper Captain were in his place—like Captain Muguruma, for instance—they absolutely wouldn't be able to break through Ichibē's defenses.
Watching the ink drops falling from the sky, Naraku Sora curled his lips into a grin. He backhanded his twisted heavy sword, which exuded a crushing pressure, as his black hair danced wildly in the scorching heat.
The moment he cleaved through the air, a sound like tearing silk erupted. A pitch-black sword pressure crashed toward Ichibē's head like a falling meteorite.
"Smash!"
Ichibē remained expressionless, his gaze freezing cold. Having lost his pupils, he looked like a machine executing a fixed set of commands.
Facing the terrifying incoming sword pressure, he didn't even attempt to dodge, instead meeting it head-on.
Like wielding a calligraphy brush, the ink descended.
The instant the sword pressure collided with the rain of ink, a horrifying shockwave swept across the world, causing the already devastated ground to fracture once more.
Countless rocks and dust were blasted high into the air, pulverized into fine powder by the surging aftermath.
In the next second, the ink writhed like a living creature, coalescing into winding black snakes that instantly coiled around Sora's body, which was wreathed in arcs of lightning and scorching flames.
The extreme heat instantly evaporated a portion of the ink, turning it into fine Reishi that scattered into the atmosphere.
Just as he tried to resist, his vision suddenly went dark. A burly, towering figure appeared right in front of him; the monk had raised his brush.
The tip continuously shifted between a brush and a white blade, making it impossible to distinguish.
Seeing the man right in front of him, Sora's eyes lit up. Ignoring the struggle against the ink, he fiercely spread his arms, the muscles across his entire body suddenly tensing.
Materialized Reiatsu surged forth, sweeping out in all directions like a torrential flood.
In a mere instant, it cleared away all the surrounding dust.
Clenching his fingers, a scorching wind swept out. Like a volcano on the verge of eruption, a wave of intense heat rushed forward.
Black and red arcs of lightning wrapped around his fist as he ruthlessly smashed it toward that glaringly bald head!
Black Flash Ikkotsu!
In that split second, the space distorted as pure destruction swept over and engulfed Ichibē's body.
With this unreserved outburst, the very outlines of all creation seemed to warp. Visible white shockwaves surged violently, accompanied by an earth-shattering roar that pierced the clouds and cracked the stones.
The burly figure was sent flying backward like a cannonball, crashing squarely into the black shadow towering over the ruins.
The sticky, pitch-black power of the Divine Eye clung to Ichibē's body. Branch-like markings abruptly surfaced, blending together with the black shadow.
Countless fragmented, snake-like viscous substances writhed continuously, attempting to siphon the Reiatsu from his body.
However, against the defense of the Oken, it had absolutely no effect.
Ichibē's entire face was shrouded in shadow. Withstanding the power of the Spirit King's right arm, he violently swung his brush.
"Shin'uchi—"
"Shirafude Ichimonji!"
Ink splattered and merged with the black shadow until the tip of the brush turned completely white, as if all the blackness had been injected into the Spirit King's right arm.
"Halt!"
A massive calligraphy character landed on the black shadow. Having been carved with a new name, Mimihagi instantly ceased all movement; even his thoughts came to a standstill.
The monk pressed his hands together and slowly bowed in reverence, before placing his thick right hand forward.
Immediately after, a fierce gale swept up. The ink enveloped the black shadow, and all of it surged into the palm of his hand.
After completing this, Ichibē's eyes instantly returned to normal, his brownish-red pupils reappearing.
His booming voice echoed across the sky.
"I apologize for concealing certain matters, but everything I have done was by the decree of the Spirit King."
"Now, I ask that you all relocate to the Kirin Palace. I have an important matter to attend to and must take my leave."
"I leave the rest to you, Tenjirō."
As his words fell, the burly figure instantly vanished from his spot. No one could detect his trajectory; it was as if he had simply been erased.
For a moment, everyone's gaze fell upon the shadows.
Being stared at by several pairs of eyes, even someone as strong as Tenjirō Kirinji felt a long-lost sense of pressure. He couldn't help but silently curse Ichibē for dumping this mess on him.
He hadn't originally planned on coming, but upon sensing the terrifying aftermath of the battle, he couldn't suppress his curiosity and had quietly slipped onto the battlefield.
Then, he witnessed the scene of Ichibē Hyōsube—the strongest member of the Zero Division—being sent flying by a single punch from Naraku Sora.
It felt like a dream.
If not for the scorching wind sweeping past, Tenjirō would have thought he was hallucinating.
He was an absolute monster.
Suppressing the shock in his heart, he supported Ukitake Jūshirō, who had completely lost consciousness after losing the Spirit King's right arm.
"Follow me."
White Bone Hell.
The two locked in a staring contest. Because Tenjirō Kirinji had small eyes, he naturally held the advantage. Naraku Sora's thick eyebrows and big eyes quickly admitted defeat, and he said somewhat speechlessly:
"I thought you Zero Division guys had conspired to trick a young comrade like me, who isn't even a hundred years old yet, just to steal the Hakimi from Senior Brother Ukitake's lungs."
Tenjirō Kirinji: "..."
Even though he wasn't exactly the sensitive type, he still couldn't keep up with the erratic leaps in this guy's logic.
Moreover.
To be able to go toe-to-toe with Ichibē Hyōsube at less than a hundred years old... If he was given another few decades or a century, he might just drag the Spirit King down and take the throne for himself.
This kid was a monster even among monsters.
"Ahem, let me correct you. It's Lord Mimihagi."
As a member of the Spirit King's Royal Guard, Tenjirō felt it was necessary to correct his terminology.
"Kid, in a sense, Ichibē Hyōsube can't even be considered the same species as us. He has lived for a million years."
"Perhaps in his eyes, we don't even amount to ants."
"Would you sit down for a heart-to-heart chat with an ant and tell it your secrets?"
"For Ichibē Hyōsube, his sole duty is to guard the Spirit King."
"Of course, that is also the mission of the Zero Division."
Naraku Sora looked thoughtful.
This Tenjirō Kirinji had plenty of brawn, but his head was completely empty; he had no real wisdom to speak of.
Relying on this guy for analysis was less useful than just trusting his own intuition.
It would be better to wait until they returned to the Soul Society, tell Aizen everything that had happened in the Detached Palaces, and let him figure it out.
The development of events had completely spiraled out of control.
Certain knowledge that only existed in his memories no longer held any reference value.
No one knew exactly where the future was heading anymore.
"Actually, you can't say it's all bad."
Tenjirō Kirinji scratched his head and pointed at Ukitake Jūshirō, who was soaking in the hot spring water, explaining:
"The Spirit King's power within him has been completely extracted. Although he lost his lungs as a result, my two types of hot spring water can temporarily stabilize his vital signs."
"If he can be implanted with artificial organs after returning to the Soul Society, Captain Ukitake will fully recover his health."
Naraku Sora froze for a moment and instinctively blurted out:
"A h-healthy Ukitake?"
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