Nnoitra tried to slip away in the chaos—but Nel and Harribel blocked his path.
"Let me go. You can have Las Noches."
It wasn't that Nnoitra lacked the courage to fight stronger opponents.
He just didn't want to throw his life away meaninglessly.
These two were Vasto Lordes. He had no illusions—there was no winning here.
"That won't do. I still need to test how much I've grown."
Nel pulled her blade from the floor with a soft scrape.
Her teacher had already tested her after she evolved into a Vasto Lorde-class Arrancar.
But his strength remained unreachable, a towering wall. Even with all her progress, she felt no closer to matching him.
So this self-proclaimed new "king" would do nicely as a test dummy.
"Using me to sharpen your blade?"
Nnoitra's eyes narrowed. He despised arrogance—and this woman was brimming with it.
He'd tortured that white panther Grimmjow for the same reason: he couldn't stand the pride in his eyes.
His four white limbs flared wide, each bearing a bone scythe.
Shnk—
He lunged, all four blades striking in rapid succession—so fast it even caught Nel slightly off guard.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Steel rang against steel in a flurry of blows.
"Not bad. Those four arms do give you some speed."
But even as his attacks came from every angle, Nel deflected them with ease.
Had she never met her teacher—had she not become an Arrancar—this would've been a real struggle.
"Got anything stronger?"
"You dare mock me?!"
Nnoitra's rage boiled over.
To him, those words were nothing short of insult.
From beneath his white carapace, two hidden arms suddenly extended—unleashing two more scythes, aiming directly for Nel's waist.
Nnoitra was a six-armed mantis-type Hollow. Normally, he only revealed four arms—keeping the other two concealed.
It was his trump card—a stealthy ambush he'd used to defeat opponents stronger than himself in the past.
"Got you!"
His grin widened. He was about to slice this arrogant Vasto Lorde clean in two.
They were close—too close.
His scythes had already reached her.
But then... his expression froze.
The blades hit her waist—yet did no damage.
He hadn't even pierced her Hierro.
Nnoitra was still an un-evolved Adjuchas. He was worlds beneath Nel now. He couldn't even scratch her!
"Wh...what?!"
He recoiled in disbelief.
"Your strength… there's a pretty big gap."
Nel tilted her head, almost surprised herself.
She finally realized that a Vasto Lorde-class Arrancar couldn't be judged by her old standards.
'If I fought my past self now… I could probably win ten times over,' she mused, satisfied.
The battle suddenly felt boring.
She sheathed her sword.
"Test complete. You can leave."
"Don't look down on me!!!"
Seeing her turn her back on him, Nnoitra snapped.
Reiatsu exploded from his body.
All six scythes arced toward the back of her head—aiming for her mask fragment.
If all six struck the same point, even a Vasto Lorde's mask might shatter.
But Nel reacted as if she had eyes in the back of her head.
Shff—
A flash of light. One clean slash.
Nnoitra's six arms—and his torso—severed cleanly.
"Sensei always told me, 'Never drop your guard to enemies behind you...'"
She remembered those brutal training sessions. Years ago, her teacher would ambush her constantly—training her reflexes under surprise conditions.
Backstabs were a special focus.
Nel had sensed it the moment he moved.
"Die, damn you!!!"
Nnoitra had lost all reason. Madness filled his eyes as a Cero began to form at his lips.
"...Why are you so stubborn?"
Nel sighed, exasperated.
She held no grudge against him. If she could avoid killing him, she would.
But Las Noches was going to be their new home.
She couldn't allow him to destroy it with his Cero.
Zff—
Nel moved at impossible speed. A blur passed beside Nnoitra.
His head lifted from his shoulders.
The Cero in his mouth fizzled out as his head spun through the air—eyes wide in disbelief as he saw his own body crumble below.
'So… strong…'
That was his last thought before his vision faded.
"I thought you wouldn't go through with it."
Harribel relaxed her grip on her sword.
She knew how gentle Nel truly was—how rare it was for her to kill intelligent Hollows.
She had already prepared to intervene.
"I can still kill enemies!"
Nel grinned, carefree again.
Nearby, Nanatsuki had already removed the Sekkiseki nails from Grimmjow's body—and casually healed the wounds they left behind.
"Hmm… not much of a texture on this bald cat-head…"
Nanatsuki smirked, rubbing Grimmjow's head just before he could pull it away.
Grimmjow growled low in his throat, sounding like a revving engine.
But realizing his head was literally in this man's hand… he didn't dare resist.
"Why did you save me? You're a Shinigami, aren't you?"
He couldn't help asking.
His mind swirled with questions.
Why would a Shinigami help him?
Why would that Shinigami be the teacher of two Vasto Lorde Arrancars?
"Because you've got potential," Nanatsuki said bluntly, smiling.
"Tell me, panther… do you desire power?"
Just then, Grimmjow noticed—Nnoitra's Reiatsu had vanished.
His pupils shrank.
"Power?" he muttered, glancing toward the throne where Nnoitra once stood.
"Of course I do. That's the fate of the weak."
"Then follow me," Nanatsuki said with quiet confidence.
"Those two Vasto Lordes are my disciples. If you follow me, I'll grant you strength—and teach you how to fight."
"...I want that. I want to be your disciple."
Grimmjow bowed his head.
He craved power.
He wanted to evolve.
Even if Nanatsuki was a Shinigami—he didn't care.
"Good."
Nanatsuki nodded. "From this day forward, you're my student."
He glanced at the other Hollows in the hall.
They had seen Nnoitra try to flee. None of them wanted to stick around any longer.
Many had tried to slip away while Nel and Harribel were distracted.
But just as they moved—
—they realized they couldn't.
Shadows bound them in place.