Looking at the straight figure standing amidst the raging sea of fire, though the man wasn't particularly tall, the oppressive aura he exuded was pushed to the absolute limit.
Naraku Sora felt as if he were facing the entire world.
Even the depths of his soul trembled slightly. His body tensed up subconsciously, nearly unleashing a power that shouldn't be released.
This was an instinctive reaction when facing a life-threatening danger.
Although he acted a bit recklessly in battle, he still knew how to read the room.
Right now, going all out would at most earn him a severe beating.
But if he revealed his Hollowfication, it wouldn't be something he could explain away with a mere flesh wound.
Perhaps at that point, the thing cutting him down wouldn't just be Ryūjin Jakka.
Naraku Sora took a deep breath. Feeling the pervasive trembling and excitement in the depths of his soul, he forcefully made his tense body slowly relax, emitting a sharp sound of grinding joints.
It sounded like clashing steel.
His Reiatsu erupted to its absolute peak, transforming into a pillar of light that blasted out wildly.
The next second.
Countless streaks of interwoven black and red lightning appeared around Naraku Sora, continuously expanding across the battlefield and shooting straight into the sky, tearing massive, ring-shaped holes into the sea of fire suspended overhead.
Full power, Black Flash!
Naraku Sora unleashed his strongest base-form attack to date, grinning savagely as he swung his Zanpakutō, which was wreathed in lightning and fire, forward.
Facing that space-distorting slash, Yamamoto showed no intention of backing down. Instead, he met it head-on without dodging.
Even though he was well aware of this technique's power.
But as a teacher disciplining his disciple, if he retreated at this moment, it would be very difficult to carry out any further education.
It was still Taimatsu.
But unlike before, its power had skyrocketed by several times, if not dozens of times over.
At this very moment, although he hadn't used Bankai, and although he didn't want to admit it, Yamamoto was already treating this grinning, rebellious disciple as an opponent on the same level.
An indescribable scorching heat permeated the air, the dry atmosphere feeling as if it would ignite one's internal organs.
The next second.
A tornado wall of flames, several times more furious than before, roared outward. The ground cracked and crumbled with a deafening rumble. Like a divine punishment, a calamitous scene swept across the battlefield for thousands of meters.
The entire back mountain was engulfed in a sea of fire!
The interwoven light of the surrounding waves of fire and the black-red lightning reflected pure ferocity in their pupils. Accompanied by their widening grins, the expressions of master and disciple were surprisingly identical.
Twisted and savage.
The next second, their respective techniques clashed violently against each other.
All sound vanished from the world!
A brief, deathly silence fell over the massive battlefield.
Immediately after, an earth-shattering roar echoed through the barracks, even spreading beyond them and rolling toward the farther reaches of the Seireitei.
Up in the sky, tornadoes howled and walls of flame converged, while countless deep, intersecting ravines densely scarred the ground below.
Watching his Black Flash be annihilated, Naraku Sora subconsciously hissed in a breath of scorching air, suddenly feeling a wave of burning agitation within his organs.
Experience proved that the old master still had the upper hand.
Fortunately, a Kidō barrier had already been erected around the edges of the back mountain. With Sasakibe Chōjirō and Okikiba Genshirō working together, it was enough to contain the aftermath within the confines of the back mountain. But giving up just like that didn't suit his style.
Naraku Sora grinned, his eyes bloodshot. An imperceptible flash of gold flickered in his pupils as his knotted, muscular arms suddenly bulged.
Following this movement, the dull sound of grinding joints rang out abruptly.
Immediately after, arcs of interwoven black and red lightning suddenly spilled from between his fingers, extending onto his Zanpakutō as his Reiatsu climbed to its absolute peak.
Pitch-black branches grew and spread across the blade, dancing like lightning.
The originally slender blade became incredibly exaggerated at this moment, exuding a terrifying aura that distorted space itself.
Looking at that increasingly savage figure, Yamamoto narrowed his eyes. His grip on Ryūjin Jakka tightened, and a hint of doubt couldn't help but flash across his face.
*'Has this brat mastered Bankai?'*
The moment this thought popped into his mind, Yamamoto subconsciously cursed inwardly.
*'He's already daring to act this crazy now. If he really has mastered Bankai, won't he flip the heavens upside down?'*
*'If this continues, before that bastard Yhwach even wakes up, I, Yamamoto Shigekuni, will be the first to go—infuriated to death by this rebellious brat.'*
*'No, I have to hit this kid hard. At least enough to keep him quiet for a few decades.'*
Thinking up to this point, golden-red flames surfaced in the depths of Yamamoto's eyes. The sea of fire covering the entire back mountain began to converge, slowly disappearing bit by bit as if it possessed a mind of its own.
His blazing Reiatsu surged once more. As if incarnating into a god of fire from myth and legend, scorching air currents raged wildly around him.
The fiery glow on the long sword in his hand gradually faded, as if shedding all of its sharp edges.
The next instant.
The slender blade clashed against the thick, heavy sword.
The very concept of time seemed to be erased at this moment. The world came to a standstill; even the sweeping scorching winds vanished, and the air stopped flowing.
The originally azure sky was now sharply divided. The two powers erupted almost simultaneously, transforming into visible shockwaves.
BOOM—!!
The sky-piercing explosion formed a mushroom cloud large enough to cover thousands of meters. Waves of heat formed concentric rings, bursting and spreading out in all directions.
Just the aftershocks crashing into the distant peaks caused them to collapse into nothingness in an instant.
Countless massive pillars of dust and smoke shot up to the zenith, falling back down as a thick, heavy fog that blotted out the sun and sky.
After a brief stalemate, the sound of shattering rang out from the blade. Naraku Sora's mouth twitched as he watched Yamamoto's savage grin draw closer and closer.
Until the final impact erupted, sending him flying out of the smoke like a shooting star. He streaked across the sky, crashing through several buildings in succession before being buried in the billowing dust.
The earth trembled violently for hundreds of meters around.
Yamamoto pressed his advantage, striking while the iron was hot. With a Flash Step, he dashed into the pervasive dust, rearing back a fist the size of a sandpot and delivering a solid, heavy blow.
The ultimate move that Kuchiki Kōga was so proud of was no different from a basic attack to him.
As the unpretentious Single Bone landed, a certain someone who was trying to struggle immediately had his vision go black, losing consciousness on the spot.
In the face of this iron fist filled with love, even High-Speed Regeneration struggled to take effect.
Looking at the figure in the deep crater, a trace of melancholy flashed across Yamamoto's aged face.
*'This rebellious disciple has certainly grown, but why do I suddenly feel like I'm being left behind by the tides of a new era?'*
*'Is it just an illusion?'*
Yamamoto looked down at the charred state of the long sword in his hand and shook his head, no longer dwelling on such trivial details.
Right now, there were more important matters waiting for him to confirm.
Naraku Sora recovered very quickly. Even after being pummeled by Yamamoto's seasoned fists—attacks powerful enough to instantly kill an average Captain—it only resulted in his internal organs shifting out of place.
For someone with High-Speed Regeneration like him, it could only be considered a minor injury. It was insignificant.
His unreserved battle with Yamamoto made him realize his biggest flaw.
That was his Reiatsu.
Although his performance seemed astonishing—casually unleashing world-destroying power and even clashing head-on with the strongest Soul Reaper in the Soul Society.
But at the end of the day, he only possessed Second-Class Spiritual Power.
Fortunately, heaven always leaves a door open.
Although he had been severely beaten, the spoils he had salvaged from Muken hadn't been confiscated by Yamamoto.
Perhaps the old man had subconsciously believed his previous excuses.
As for Yamamoto...
Naraku Sora rolled off his bed, left the courtyard, and casually grabbed a passing Soul Reaper to ask.
Although the other party showed a face full of reverence upon clearly seeing his face, they were unable to answer his question.
Not only was Yamamoto absent from Squad 1, but even Sasakibe Chōjirō had disappeared.
Currently, the one handling the squad's internal affairs was the 3rd Seat, Okikiba Genshirō, an elderly man who rarely smiled.
After carefully sensing his surroundings, he didn't detect Yamamoto's Reiatsu, nor did he find any left-behind messages.
Since there was nothing, it meant this matter was officially swept under the rug.
Naraku Sora grinned, deeply feeling the care from his teacher.
Thus, he went to the tearoom, casually swiped a few packets of premium tea leaves along with a couple of sweet potatoes, and turned to leave the Squad 1 barracks.
He headed in the direction of the Shino Prison.
Muken.
Piles of shattered Sekki-seki littered the area, and crisscrossing ravines scarred the earth. The scorching aura had yet to completely dissipate even now.
Two figures walked slowly through the ruins.
Sasakibe Chōjirō walked in front, holding a lantern lit by Reiatsu to dispel the surrounding darkness.
The scene before him left him endlessly shocked.
No wonder the aftershocks of the battle had spread to the surface, even affecting the edges of the barracks.
It turned out that this area of Muken had nearly been completely shattered.
Judging solely by the residual traces at the scene, the scale of the battle was no lesser than the clash between Yamamoto and Naraku Sora.
But the problem was, even if Azashiro Sōya's strength was multiplied several times over, it still wouldn't amount to half of Yamamoto's.
There was an insurmountable chasm between the two of them on a fundamental level.
Not to mention, within the ruins of Muken, it was almost impossible to detect any of Azashiro Sōya's lingering Reiatsu.
Clearly, this absurd scene before them had been caused by Naraku Sora alone.
"Lord Genryūsai."
Sasakibe Chōjirō took a deep breath, slowly suppressing the shock in his heart.
"In my opinion, I'm afraid Prison Warden Naraku didn't use his full strength in the battle just now."
Yamamoto snorted coldly. "He didn't use his full strength, but do you think I did?"
Sasakibe Chōjirō's mouth couldn't help but twitch. Ever since taking a certain someone as a disciple, their Head Captain's mindset seemed to be trending younger and younger.
Seeming to realize his slip in composure, Yamamoto coughed lightly a few times to cover it up. His expression returned to its usual calm as he analyzed in a deep voice:
"During the final clash of the battle, I actually already noticed it."
"That brat appeared exhausted, but in reality, a tyrannical power was still lying dormant within his body."
"That's why I brought you to Muken to investigate immediately, and to check the extent of the damage while we're at it."
Sasakibe Chōjirō nodded. He squatted at the edge of a fissure, placing his hand over it to carefully sense the lingering aura.
A few seconds later, he furrowed his brows.
Yamamoto performed the same action, his expression surprisingly identical.
"Lord Genryūsai, this power..." Sasakibe Chōjirō hesitated.
Yamamoto lowered his gaze and let out a deep sigh.
"It hasn't reached that level of severity yet, and besides—"
"No matter what, that brat will always be my disciple..."