"It's useless, Naraku Sora."
Azashiro Sōya feigned composure, attempting to ignore the scorching, incinerating wind rushing at his face, but the rapid rise in the surrounding air temperature stirred a trace of unease in his heart.
"Even Lord Genryūsai couldn't possibly unleash such immense power."
"Your efforts are nothing but a waste of time."
However, the only response he received was a disdainful sneer. The materialized pillar of Reiatsu faded away like a curtain of water, and a figure as hideous as a demon was reflected in his pupils.
An extreme, tyrannical aura washed over him, causing Azashiro Sōya's breath to hitch.
Pitch-black patterns were painted across a bone-white mask. Its exposed, sharp teeth were slightly parted, with wisps of white vapor seeping through the gaps.
Curved, sharp horns pointed diagonally upward, exuding a chilling sharpness. The original flesh tone of his skin had been replaced by a deathly pallor, and black markings manifested across his flawless physique.
Although the vast majority of events occurring in the Seireitei could not escape his surveillance, his brain simply could not process that much information.
Therefore, while he appeared to know everything, he had actually only cataloged major events with widespread impact.
Out of caution, Naraku Sora rarely initiated his Hollowfication within the Seireitei.
Even when he did, it was only for a fleeting instant.
Even if Azashiro Sōya had focused all his attention on him, it would have been incredibly difficult to detect.
Not to mention, he was also keeping an eye on other matters.
Such as the shady dealings among the noble families, the development of Squad 11, and so on.
Thus, when the Hollowfication was presented right before his eyes, Azashiro Sōya was utterly shocked by this unfathomably immense power.
He had originally thought that Naraku Sora's level of Hollowfication was still at the same stage as when he first joined the squad.
"Now, take a good look at the beauty of raw stats."
A low voice, sounding like multiple synthesized audio tracks, echoed through the vast emptiness of Muken, inevitably evoking a hair-raising sensation.
A crimson scorch mark flashed across the ground and vanished.
Accompanied by a rapid hum, Naraku Sora vanished from his spot.
Before Azashiro Sōya could even perceive his trajectory, a ferocious smile had already appeared right in front of him.
An arm raised, then violently slammed down.
An elbow strike!
Power erupted like a volcanic explosion, instantly causing Azashiro Sōya's vision to go black.
It felt as though he had been viciously struck by a massive sledgehammer. His internal organs trembled wildly, and his entire body instantly disintegrated, turning into countless Reishi that scattered into the boundless darkness.
'What is this power?!'
After a few seconds of pause, Azashiro Sōya reformed his body. Unlike before, a trace of unconcealable pallor washed over his face.
Naraku Sora's movements were far too swift, causing an imperceptible delay the moment Azashiro broke down into Reishi.
Though brief, it was highly fatal.
For a monster like Naraku Sora, who had mastered Black Flash, even a millisecond of an opening would be accurately seized and infinitely magnified.
Expanding his advantage to a point the enemy could not withstand.
Azashiro Sōya wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, staring intently at the figure ahead.
As early as the beginning of the battle, he had already put away any feelings of underestimation.
But only when he truly clashed with this monster firing on all cylinders did he realize just how ignorant he had been.
Treating an existence like Naraku Sora as an equal was, in itself, a form of arrogance.
Azashiro Sōya reached out and drew a faintly glowing blade from the shattered ground.
The surrounding Reishi rapidly depleted, frantically gathering upon the gleaming blade, continuously amplifying the power contained within it as if there were no limit.
Without a word of nonsense, he raised his hand and unleashed a brilliant wave of sword pressure.
The air was instantly torn apart, emitting the high-pitched sound of clashing metal amidst the billowing dust.
From the smoke and dust, a hazy figure stepped forward.
Naraku Sora pinched the flickering sword pressure with his five fingers. Exerting force with his palm, he directly crushed it. Countless Reishi scattered across the ground, reintegrating into the earth of Muken.
"Is this all you've got?"
Azashiro Sōya remained silent, merely continuing to swing his blade.
Although his physical attributes had been fixed the moment he activated his Bankai, that did not mean he was incapable of utilizing Zanjutsu.
As the previous Kamaitachi, he was virtually unrivaled in the realm of long-range attacks.
However, his usually infallible sword pressure fell completely flat before Naraku Sora.
With a casual strike, the interwoven net of countless sword pressure slashes shattered explosively. The brilliant radiance dotted the infinite darkness, adding a different kind of color to Muken.
Azashiro Sōya's expression grew increasingly grim.
Although he believed himself to be in an invincible position, a strong sense of unease faintly surfaced in his heart.
'Could this guy actually unleash enough destructive power to annihilate the entire Seireitei?'
'What I said earlier was just to bluff him.'
In order to prevent him from having the chance to charge up his power, Azashiro Sōya had no choice but to endlessly kite him, continuously unleashing slashes that tore through the air.
However, Naraku Sora was already growing impatient with this.
He obliterated the final wave of sword pressure, stretched his limbs, and slowly exhaled a suppressed, scorching breath.
His heart beat like thunder descending within his chest, echoing and reverberating, turning his surging blood into magma that rushed feverishly through his veins.
A terrifying high temperature permeated the area, instantly dispelling the dark shadows beneath his feet.
A towering pillar of fire subsequently swept upward, wrapping around Naraku Sora's body and distorting the surrounding air.
It was like the reflection of a blazing sun.
The moisture in Muken evaporated at a visible rate. A heart-palpitating aura continuously spread, seemingly without limit.
When Azashiro Sōya attempted to stop him, his brilliant sword pressure merely tore through the outer layer of Reiatsu protection before crashing headlong into the Hierro, shattering in an instant.
In the momentary dead silence, Naraku Sora raised the Zanpakutō in his hand.
Pitch-black patterns squirmed like living creatures, covering the blade and continuously expanding outward until the surrounding space began to distort.
With the continuous consumption of the Tenshintai and the increasing number of times he had taken a beating, Naraku Sora's comprehension of his power had grown ever more profound.
Forcibly activating half of his Bankai while in an active state of Hollowfication.
'This form should be enough to crush the Azashiro Sōya before me, right?'
Under an astonished gaze, the corners of Naraku Sora's mouth curled up. He backhandedly raised his pitch-black Zanpakutō, which exuded a heavy, oppressive aura, his black hair dancing wildly in the scorching wind.
He slashed downward.
Black Flash Slash!
In that instant, an ear-piercing explosion rang out.
An intense premonition of death suddenly erupted. Azashiro Sōya instantly felt his back drenched in cold sweat, his face turning pale to the extreme.
In the face of that world-severing slash, matter lost its contours.
The dilapidated ground disintegrated in the aftershock like a phantom bubble. In its place, a terrifying, intense light—like an exploding sun—burst forth to its absolute limit, sweeping and spreading in all directions.
Swallowing everything.
Pure power transformed into destruction, surging straight ahead like a towering, torrential tide crashing down.
Azashiro Sōya's body lost all sensation in an instant. When he attempted to evade the impact by using his ability to merge with Reishi, he shockingly discovered that all the Reishi within Muken was in a state of restless agitation.
Even if he forcibly condensed his body, he would still be instantly ignited, incinerated, and turned to charcoal by the terrifying impact. His flesh and blood cracked and peeled away, with countless ashes blending into the dust.
The surrounding space was collapsing; it seemed that only destruction remained.
At the Squad 1 barracks, Yamamoto sat at his desk, wielding a brush and splashing ink to express his inner thoughts.
Meanwhile, Sasakibe Chōjirō was reporting on the recently compiled work details.
"Lieutenant Iba Chikane recently submitted a proposal document to Squad 1 regarding a change in Captaincy. She recommended the 3rd Seat of Squad 3, Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō."
"According to specific intelligence, 3rd Seat Ōtoribashi has already mastered Bankai, and its power is astonishing—not in the slightest bit inferior to the previous Captain."
Sasakibe Chōjirō turned a page.
"Captain Unohana is very curious about the Hell Hot Springs. She has asked multiple times whose handiwork it is, and she seems to have guessed that Prison Warden Naraku once visited the Soul King Palace."
"Captain Kyōraku completed the training task you assigned him a while ago. He is currently in the process of redeveloping the Shikai powers of his Zanpakutō."
"However, according to intelligence from the Onmitsukidō, he has been visiting the red-light district every few days recently."
Veins bulged on the back of the elderly man's hand.
Sasakibe Chōjirō paused for a moment before continuing,
"Due to the prolonged absence of a Captain, the morale of Squad 10 is restless. The squad members are absent-minded while executing missions, resulting in a thirteen percent drop in their completion rate."
"Captain Ukitake's body has basically recovered. Being overly excited, he processed all the backlogged files Squad 13 had accumulated over the years, and then, due to overwork, was admitted to the Comprehensive Relief Station once again."
"This is the medical record provided by Captain Unohana."
Yamamoto: "..."
He suddenly felt a bit mentally exhausted. He had gone through so much trouble to teach these disciples, yet was not a single one of them normal?
"It is worth mentioning that Prison Warden Naraku has been unusually quiet lately. Ever since returning from the Soul King Palace, it's as if he has become a completely different person."
Looking at the description on the file, Sasakibe Chōjirō's expression became extremely peculiar.
Yamamoto said without turning his head,
"Perhaps the brat has changed his temperament. I visited Shino Prison not long ago, and indeed, no trouble had occurred."
"Furthermore, the barracks have undergone extensive renovations, almost equivalent to a complete reconstruction. They even replicated Squad 5's Kidō Restoration Room. Captain Hirako was just complaining about this at the Captains' meeting previously."
"However, in my eyes, this might not necessarily be a bad thing."
"The strength of a single individual doesn't mean much, but if the overall strength of the Seireitei increases, even if those Quincy make a comeback in the future, they might not be able to stir up any trouble."
Sasakibe Chōjirō nodded in deep agreement.
As someone who had personally experienced the war, he had watched helplessly as the Soul Society plunged into doomsday, with countless familiar faces falling beneath the spirit bows of the Quincy.
In order to end the war, Yamamoto ignited the Sword of Raging Fire, nearly dragging the entire Soul Society into the abyss of destruction.
And he himself had hidden among countless corpses, concealing his Reiatsu, to deliver a backstab at the critical moment, directly piercing through Yhwach's body.
It was only after paying such a tragic price that they barely managed to secure victory.
If it were to happen again, the outcome would be entirely unknown.
And right now, Naraku Sora's seemingly nonsensical behavior was actually preparing them for future wars.
Every bit of added strength meant a slightly higher chance of survival.
Although absurd, he had indeed made outstanding contributions to the Seireitei and even the Soul Society as a whole.
'Perhaps, Lord Naraku truly has changed.'
Yamamoto lowered his gaze, picked up his brush once more, and spoke with a bit more gratification in his voice:
"In short, do not judge his character based on a few trivial matters from the past."
"People can change."
Sasakibe Chōjirō nodded in strong agreement.
Right at that moment.
BOOM—!!
A violent tremor transmitted from afar. Countless shockwaves erupted, and an irresistible torrent of aftermath surged wildly as a scorching pillar of fire shot into the sky at the edge of their line of sight.
In an instant, the sky was dyed crimson, as if a sea of fire were hanging upside down above their heads.
Almost all the Soul Reapers in the Seireitei witnessed this terrifying celestial phenomenon, as if doomsday had descended.
Crack!
The brush in Yamamoto's hand suddenly snapped. His astonished gaze looked toward the direction the shockwave was sweeping in from. Immediately after, veins bulged on his head, and the temperature in the air sharply spiked.
Sasakibe Chōjirō glanced at the exaggerated scene, a wry smile immediately surfacing on his face.
It seemed that Lord Genryūsai's life philosophy did not apply to certain people...