Chapter 88: The Sage's Decree
A triumphant smile spread across Akatsurugi's face. The results were even better than he'd hoped. This was the true power of a zanpakutō—a weapon forged to sever souls. The Shinigami, an entity that had existed for millennia, was writhing in agony within his flames. It seemed every conqueror had his nemesis, and his Ryūjin Jakka was the ultimate bane of spiritual beings.
A new thought sparked in his mind. The demon in the Land of Demons... it's a similar entity, isn't it? If he could slay both the Shinigami and that monster, absorbing their power should surely propel him to Bankai.
"Shinigami," he declared, his voice cold and resolute. "You shall become the cornerstone of my ascent." In a flash, he appeared before the tormented deity and plunged his zanpakutō deep into its colossal form.
The blade sank in as if through soft clay. The hundred-meter-tall Shinigami began to shrink rapidly, and Akatsurugi felt a torrent of pure, potent soul energy flooding into him, a sensation far more intense than the paltry wisps from the reincarnated Kage.
Elation surged through him. He had been right! His gaze upon the Shinigami turned voracious. This wasn't a god of death; it was a walking, talking experience point bundle.
Terror contorted the Shinigami's features. Paralyzed, it could only watch as the strange sword drained its essence. Over countless years, it had accumulated immeasurable soul power, and now it could feel that vast reservoir depleting at an alarming rate. The unthinkable was happening: it, the Shinigami, was facing true death. The irony was absolute.
"Shinra Tensei!" (Almighty Push)
A deep voice, calm yet imbued with immeasurable authority, echoed through the spiritual plane. A tremendous force, not of pull but of repulsion, erupted. Akatsurugi was thrown back, his eyes widening in shock as the wounded Shinigami was violently ripped away from his blade and sent flying into the distance.
He stared, stunned, his mind reeling. What power was this?
His eyes snapped to the source. In the distance, an old man sat cross-legged in the air, bathed in a soft, divine white light. He exuded an aura of ancient, boundless majesty. And cowering beside him was the Shinigami he had just been draining.
"The Sage of Six Paths?" Akatsurugi's voice was laced with shock and sudden wariness. The old man's distinctive garb and the concentric circles of the Rinnegan were unmistakable. The legend himself had appeared... to save the Shinigami? What was the connection between them?
"Those eyes... a Sharingan? No, they are not yours to claim," the Sage stated, his tone flat and devoid of judgment, merely observant.
Akatsurugi's mind raced. If I can fight the Shinigami, can I fight the Sage? The Sage before him was also a spiritual entity. Would his zanpakutō work on him as well? A reckless, thrilling restlessness stirred within him.
The Sage's eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly. He could feel the young man's violent intent. His gaze fell upon the strange, flaming sword. A weapon that could harm and drain the Shinigami... he had never encountered its like in all his long existence. Was this an outsider's power?
"Heh. Young man, I mean you no harm," the Sage explained, a note of caution entering his voice. He had felt the threat emanating from that blade. He knew the Shinigami's power, and for it to be so thoroughly suppressed... would he be vulnerable as well?
Akatsurugi's smile was sharp. "No ill intentions? Then why did you stop me from executing this beast?"
"I did not expect the Sage to grace us with his presence. Since you claim peaceful intent, why shield this creature I was about to slay?" he asked aloud, while internally calculating the odds of successfully killing the Sage. The "Almighty Push" he had just witnessed was formidable. Getting close would be the real challenge.
The Sage, unaware of the specific murderous plot, nevertheless understood the general direction of Akatsurugi's thoughts. "The Shinigami cannot be destroyed," he stated calmly.
"Oh?" Akatsurugi's curiosity was piqued. "And why is that?"
"The Shinigami has existed since time immemorial. It is a deity that maintains the world's balance. The souls of the dead who refuse to pass on to the Pure Land are consumed by it, preventing them from disrupting the natural order. If you kill it, that balance will be shattered. There is, of course, one alternative: you would become the new Shinigami of this world, bound to fulfill the duty it leaves unfinished."
"How can you be sure of this?" Akatsurugi pressed, finding the logic sound yet fantastical.
The Sage merely smiled enigmatically. "Heh..."
He could hardly admit that he had tried the very same thing. Long ago, freshly deceased and not yet ascended to the Pure Land, he had been relentlessly hunted by this entity. It had taken great effort to escape. As his power grew in the afterlife, the Shinigami had the temerity to challenge him again. He was the Sage of Six Paths; did he have no dignity? He had thoroughly chastised the death god and was on the verge of delivering the final blow when a profound will had impressed upon him the consequences: slay the Shinigami, and become its replacement. The balance of the world would become his eternal burden, lest the cosmic order collapse. It was a tedious, unending task, one he had no desire to shoulder. A truce was the only logical outcome. The Shinigami, for its part, was not stupid enough to continue provoking someone it couldn't defeat.
Now, this living mortal sought to kill the Shinigami. The Sage had intervened because Akatsurugi was not dead. If he succeeded, he could not transform into the Shinigami's replacement. Who would then maintain the balance? The Sage had no wish to risk that chaos and had come to prevent it.
Seeing the Sage would elaborate no further, Akatsurugi let the matter drop. The explanation held a ring of truth, but it presented a problem: if he couldn't kill the Shinigami, how was he to achieve Bankai? He didn't know if the monster's power alone would be sufficient.
As for the Sage himself... the desire to strike was there, a tempting itch. But the risk of failure was too high. If he had Bankai, he would dare to try. But now, discretion was the better part of valor. For the moment, he would stand down.