Chapter 66: The Three Worlds' First "Hell Cup" King of Fighters Tournament
One need not go out of their way to show off; once supreme power manifests in the mortal realm, it is enough for anyone to intuitively feel why Time remains the ultimate authority!
All things, every event and every atom, were like insects and ants frozen in amber!
The temporal imprisonment was only the beginning. Although there were no road rollers, it did not stop the Divine Fists from falling from the heavens, forming an endless chain of "Ora" heavy punches that ruthlessly ravaged the Monk. The damage wasn't astronomical, but it wasn't zero either; the Monk was quickly beaten black and blue.
Ichibe Hyosube did not fear death, but he had no desire to be frozen in spacetime only to be pummeled for nine days and nights. He began to search for a way out.
Anyone else would have been helpless against such a temporal freeze, but the Monk—an old monster birthed at the dawn of the Era of Chaos—was different.
In the beginning, all things were ambiguous and boundaries were blurred. There was no life, no death, no change, and no progress. Time, as a measure and concept, was equally chaotic until the Soul King descended. With His left hand governing Change and His right hand governing Progress, He reordered the world's cycles and combed through the messy threads of time.
The Monk could not perform the Soul King's miracles, but thanks to his proximity to Him, he knew a few tricks to deal with Time. By drawing upon the Soul King's power that stood above the mortal coil, he accelerated his own "internal change," creating a "forward trend" unique to himself.
To put it simply: he used the Soul King's power as a finger to flick his own timeline, creating a rift between himself and the external world, thereby breaking free from the massive time-stop!
Slowly, the Monk's body began to move. At first, it was sluggish, but he grew faster and faster until his movements returned to normal!
"Heh, as expected of an old monster from the same era as the Soul King!"
Mo Yu, sitting before his computer, wasn't surprised by the Monk's performance. He understood the hidden logic.
Although Bleach is a hot-blooded battle shonen where everyone seems able to trade blows, its religious metaphors speak volumes. The Soul King is God—the unique Supreme. Yhwach, despite calling himself the Son, has a status closer to a Prophet. Ichigo Kurosaki is the Anointed Messiah. The Zero Division? They are the Angels standing at the side of the Lord.
Everyone else—Aizen, Yamamoto—are mortals of the earth. No matter how powerful, they must bow before the glory of the heavens. Otherwise, even if they gather as a "Legion" (like the master of the swarm who cries 'We are many'), they are but a false dream. No matter how close they fly to the sun, they will eventually fall to the earth; the higher they fly, the harder they crash, ending up as cautionary tales in the scriptures to highlight the Lord's majesty!
In the world of Bleach, the hierarchy of existence is exceptionally cruel.
If the Zero Division members are Angels, then the Monk is the Archangel at the right hand of God! Such a being is practically a deity in his own right, yet his essence cannot be independent; his foundation must be anchored in God's glory.
The Monk in this World Bubble was stronger than the original because, in the self-consistent logic of this world, with the Soul King absent, the Monk was the only living True God. Everyone else was beneath him.
However, such a buff was meaningless in Mo Yu's eyes. There were plenty of ways to handle it! The simplest was to call Yhwach or wake Ichigo—the Prophet and the Messiah. Their status and power weren't necessarily higher than the Monk's, but in a direct confrontation, the Monk's probability of losing was high. Don't ask why; just call it the "Trinity."
But Mo Yu didn't do that. He chose another path...
The Monk maintained his composure until he heard a faint "crack." He snapped his head toward the Soul King's tower, now covered in shadow-sludge and blood-red eyes.
His gaze pierced the structure, seeing into the highest hall. The amber crystal binding the Soul King had cracked. For the first time in a million years, the Soul King moved. His deep, blank "salted fish" eyes suddenly focused. He turned His head slightly and "looked" at the Monk!
Relying on his authority over "Names," the Monk could see everything in the Three Worlds, but in this moment, he felt the Three Worlds were watching him. Time, space, life, death, the tangible and the intangible—all cast their gaze upon him.
That gaze was a holy yet cruel interrogation. A solemn judgment!
Thou... Dost not respect the Lord! Thy sin is manifest!
The Soul King blinked. When His eyes opened, the Three Worlds gazed upon the Monk. When He closed them, the Three Worlds turned away, severing every connection the Monk once held with the universe.
The Monk suddenly vomited blood—gallons of it, as if trying to empty his entire circulatory system. He became withered and weak. His monk's robes and the prayer beads around his neck instantly began to emit a stench of filth and decay.
This was the stripping of authority. The fall of status!
The Monk finally broke. He screamed hideously: "Heresy! Demon! How dare you occupy the Soul King's holy vessel and use the supreme power that maintains the Three Worlds for such evil!? Do you know the consequences!?"
"Thou shouldst know... no problem or contradiction can be delayed forever..."
Accompanying the faint whisper, the Soul King turned His gaze away. He no longer responded, nor did He watch.
The amber crystal binding the Soul King shattered further. Amidst the "crack-pop" of the breaking prison, the Soul King gained more room to move. He even slowly lifted an "arm"!
This was eerie: the Soul King's arms had long since been severed. Yet, in the Monk's sight, the motion of the King lifting his arm was unmistakable.
In the Soul Society, the One-Eyed God (the Left Hand) and the Quincy (the Right Hand) in the Wandenreich were both shivering. They felt an irresistible force greedily pulling back their essence. If this continued, they might still exist as independent consciousnesses, but they would be reduced to "it"—mere scraps no longer connected to the King.
A million years ago, the Ancestor of the Noble Houses who betrayed the King spent eons hollowing Him out, thinking he could finally rest easy. He had no idea what the Soul King's status truly meant.
One is All; All is One.
As long as a single breath remained, He was no different from His prime—it only depended on whether the King was willing.
"Enough! Stop using the Soul King's power!"
The Monk grew more terrified. He couldn't understand how the vessel was occupied, or why the occupant could draw upon its power. If it were that easy, the one on the throne for a million years would have been him, or the Nobles, or any of the geniuses throughout history.
He didn't know how Mo Yu did it, but he knew the result! The Soul King's body had suppressed Hell for a million years; their link was inseparable. Every time the King used His power, Hell would follow that link to deepen its infection. At best, Hell would manifest in the Three Worlds; at worst... the Soul King Himself would fall into Hell!
The signs were already appearing: threads of Hell-shadow were spreading across the Soul King's skin like dark veins.
Right then, the Soul King opened His mouth. A holy, majestic voice spoke:
"Before the New World sets sail, the karma and tribulations of this world, spanning a million years, must be liquidated. To this end, I shall lift the lid of the Great Cauldron of Hell. I shall pour the accumulated venom, blood, and fire of eons into the mortal realm, turning it into a flood of purging. All that is holy, noble, or rotten shall be cast down. I shall wield the blade of war, subjecting the world to an impartial ravaging. All you who are unwilling, you who harbor ambition and delusion, you who tirelessly pursue the 'Strongest'—clench your fists! Fight! Slaughter! Cross all obstacles and climb toward the heavens against the flood to stand before me, and feel the majesty and horror of Death..."
In the World of the Living, the fathers of Ichigo and Uryu heard this voice, their faces pale. In Hueco Mundo, Barragan (acting as the stand-in) looked up and let out a savage grin. In the Seireitei, Yamamoto and the Captains heard it and were struck with horror. Even Yhwach on his throne felt his eyes flicker with uncertainty.
"By the name of the Soul King, I declare: The First 'Hell Cup' King of Fighters Tournament, proudly sponsored by Heaven Media and the Bleach World Bubble, begins now...!"
As the supreme declaration fell, no one had the luxury to think. In that moment, they felt a world-shaking battle intent that defied description—a feeling that made their very souls shiver.
This intent didn't come from a single person; it came from all things. It was in the clouds, the wind, the sand at their feet. Even the ignored weeds by the roadside erupted with a battle intent so "macho" it was frightening. They seemed ready to uproot themselves, clench their frail leaves into fists, and punch passersby in the face.
Under the Soul King's will, the Purity of the world was rising!
The World itself had woken up. Driven by peerless Purity, it let out a deafening roar!
It craved battle. Endless battle. A world-shaking war of the highest Purity!
End of Chapter
Like this story Leave a review ; it would really help me out a lot.
Want to Read Ahead in Advance?
Join my Patreon!
+75 Chapters
Support me in
Patreon.com/BestElysium