"It seems Old Man Yama has officially started his opening act," Shunsui remarked softly, looking over his shoulder toward the distant horizon where waves of blinding, white-hot flames were tearing across the night sky.
Even though the distance between their dueling coordinates was significant, the overwhelming heatwave generated by the Captain-Commander's spiritual power hit Shunsui square in the face, causing his pink floral kimono to flutter violently.
Shunsui turned back, looking at Remiel standing across from him in mid-air with an exceptionally lazy, unbothered expression.
"I say, gentleman," Shunsui began, offering a relaxed smile. "How about you and I just slack off here for a bit? Take a break, watch the fireworks? Honestly, whether you and I bleed out here or not won't really alter the overarching strategic situation anyway."
Shunsui reached down to his sash, unclipped his wooden sake flask, and took a large, elegant gulp. He then held the flask toward Remiel, making a polite gesture as if asking if the Fallen Angel wished to take a sip.
Seeing the middle-aged man refuse with a calm, silent smile, Shunsui placed the flask back on his waist with a hint of genuine regret.
"Ah well, it seems we still have to fight after all," Shunsui sighed, his hand resting casually on the twin hilts of Katen Kyōkotsu. "Honestly... why is war always so utterly unavoidable?"
Shunsui's final, quiet sentence seemed to subtly strike a sensitive nerve deep within Remiel's mind.
In truth, Remiel did not care for war. He didn't actually want to participate in this bloody, chaotic territorial clash over the Holy Souls. However, within Lucifer's demonic hierarchy, Azazel was the absolute Commander of the legions. Facing a direct military mobilization, even if Remiel was fundamentally unwilling... he still had to execute his orders.
Once a holy Guardian Angel, now a Fallen entity bound to the Pit. Other than the dark expanses of Hell, there was no realm left in the cosmos that would grant him asylum.
"Let us begin, God of Death," Remiel said softly. "Glory belongs to oneself."
FLASH!
A magnificent spear heavily engraved with ancient, glowing celestial runes materialized in Remiel's grip. The polished tip of the spear pointed dead-center at Shunsui's chest.
In the very next microsecond, the two figures blurred, repeatedly clashing across the night sky. Sparks continuously exploded into the air as the heavy runic spear collided with Shunsui's dual Zanpakutō.
Yet, even mid-combat, Kyōraku Shunsui still hadn't given up on his verbal offensive.
"I can tell just by looking at your eyes that you don't actually want to slaughter anyone tonight," Shunsui said effortlessly, deflecting a thrust from the spear. "Honestly, I'm the exact same way. So I ask you again... what's the real harm in us stopping, putting our weapons down, and taking a nice, long rest?"
At the exact microsecond their weapons locked in a heavy stalemate, Shunsui leaned in, trying to persuade the Fallen Angel once more.
Hearing the slacker Captain's words, Remiel's eyes narrowed. He leaped backward into the air, instantly creating distance before levelling his spear straight ahead.
"Since the battle has already formally commenced..." Remiel declared, his voice taking on a sacred, unyielding resonance, "...then fight to the absolute end with everything you possess! Dying honorably on the battlefield is the ultimate glory of a true warrior. Those who desert their duty cannot hope to enter..."
Remiel's voice suddenly froze at the edge of the sentence. He seemed to abruptly remember his current, tragic reality.
He had already fallen. He was no longer a sacred warrior of the Heavenly Host.
A shadow of deep, cold sorrow crossed Remiel's face, and a crackle of blinding, golden lightning suddenly erupted from the tip of his spear. The bolt shot across the void toward Shunsui's position at blinding, supersonic speed.
"Honestly," Shunsui grumbled, continuously jumping and flash-stepping through the air under the relentless barrage of lightning. "Why do you seem to be getting more excited the more we talk about slacking off?"
The pink floral haori draped over Shunsui's shoulders fluttered frantically as he dodged the electrical arcs. While the localized lightning was lethal to ordinary beings, it was indeed difficult for an attack of this level to physically land on an elite Captain.
Remiel also didn't seem to think he could defeat a Captain of the Gotei 13 relying solely on long-range lightning.
SHUUN!
As the lightning flashed, Remiel's physical body followed directly behind the light. The runic spear in his hand thrust forward in a blinding, torrential barrage of strikes—like a rain of white pear blossoms covering every inch of Shunsui's escape paths.
The battle between the two officially began to heat up into an all-out clash of high-tier combatants.
Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the battlefield.
The high-stakes duel between Dagon, Knight of Hell, and Byakuya Kuchiki had officially erupted. With just a single, silent exchange of cold eye contact... the two had tacitly launched their opening offensives against each other.
Dagon held her palms flat before her, and a massive, gleaming three-pronged trident materialized in her grip. Every single time Byakuya Kuchiki's Zanpakutō struck the demonic metal of her trident, a shower of intense, blinding sparks sprayed into the night.
They continuously collided at supersonic speeds, separating and clashing again across the void.
After several dozen rapid exchanges, Dagon seemed to lose her patience with standard martial hand-to-hand combat. Her figure flickered, retreating a significant distance into the air.
Dagon looked across at Byakuya, a heavy hint of cruel playfulness dancing in her eyes.
"I've heard rumors that you Gods of Death possess exceptionally interesting, magical abilities," Dagon teased, twirling her trident. "Don't you plan on giving me a proper performance, noble Captain?"
Hearing those words, Byakuya Kuchiki's expressionless, untouchable face grew icy cold. His brow furrowed slightly, almost imperceptibly.
'A performance?' Byakuya thought, a spark of deep, aristocratic anger rising in his chest.
"How arrogant... demon," Byakuya said aloud, his voice dropping to a frigid register.
The white Kenseikan hairpieces binding his dark locks danced gently in the wind, and the white Captain's haori draped over his shoulders fluttered loudly. Even though he had experienced profound personal growth and was no longer bound by the rigid, arrogant pride of the Four Great Noble Families... hearing a creature of Hell refer to the sacred martial techniques of the Seireitei as a "performance" still gave him a severe sense of being slighted.
"Then how about this?" Dagon smirked, her eyes flashing a deep, oceanic blue. "Is this still not enough to make you perform?"
Dagon violently brandished her trident in a circular motion.
SPLASH!
Without warning, thousands of massive, roaring streams of liquid water suddenly manifested out of thin air around the two duelists. In a matter of seconds, the entire sky above their sector was forcefully converted into a vast, floating, suspended ocean.
Only the immediate, tiny sphere of air where the two duelists stood still retained a fraction of physical breathing room. However, the surrounding, pressure-heavy ocean water was rapidly surging inward from all directions, threatening to crush and drown the Captain.
Byakuya Kuchiki still maintained his cold, untouchable expression. Only his right hand, tightly gripping the hilt of his Zanpakutō, subtly tightened its grip.
"Scatter, Senbonzakura."
Since the situation had escalated to localized elemental manipulation, he had no choice but to unleash the Shikai power of his blade to contend with the crushing pressure of the sea.
SHINNG!
Countless shimmering, pink blade petals began to drop from the tip of his dissolving sword, instantly forming a whirling, razor-sharp storm that clashed furiously against the rushing waves of water.
At the exact same microsecond, Byakuya held his hiltless sword and executed a high-speed Shunpo, slicing straight through the eye of the storm.
SLASH!
As their silhouettes crossed in the air, a deep, bloody gash violently ripped across Dagon's chest. A large spray of dark red blood erupted into the water.
"I see..." Dagon murmured softly, turning her head back to look at him. "An attack where the physical blade cannot be visually tracked?"
Looking down at her heavily bleeding chest, Dagon's tone remained completely calm, showing zero emotional variance or pain despite the severe physical trauma.
SLURP.
In the very next instant, the large spray of blood that had just exited her body suddenly reversed its trajectory in mid-air. Like liquid iron drawn to a magnet, the blood poured directly back into Dagon's body through the gaping open wound.
Not a single trace of the metallic scent of blood remained in the surrounding air. Within two seconds, her flesh knit itself seamlessly back together, leaving her skin completely unblemished.
Byakuya Kuchiki's precise, lethal slash had produced absolutely zero lasting effect.
'Rapid cellular regeneration like a High-Class Hollow?' Byakuya analyzed internally, his sharp eyes tracking the flow of the liquid. 'No! It isn't flesh regeneration... She can freely control the physical state of all liquids!'
Seeing Dagon's wound heal completely in a microsecond, and observing how even the blood that had physically left her body returned under her absolute command... Byakuya glanced at the vast, floating ocean surrounding them.
After a brief second of deduction, he fully understood the true nature of his opponent's power. It wasn't limited to summoning water; any liquid within her spiritual radius—including blood and moisture—was an extension of her body.
'In that case...' Byakuya thought, his chest tightening slightly, '...I cannot afford to sustain a single physical injury in this fight.'
Byakuya realized that the reason Dagon hadn't immediately tried to forcefully control the blood residing inside his own body to end the fight was because her direct control had baseline physical limitations. She likely required external contact or ambient saturation first. But if he were to sustain even a tiny, open wound, her liquid magic could instantly invade his bloodstream and end his life.
The surrounding storm of pink blade-petals continued to violently clash against the churning ocean waves, creating a high-density stalemate.
Byakuya couldn't afford to get cut, while Dagon found that her close-quarters martial skills were noticeably inferior to the Captain's refined Zanjutsu.
However, the strategic advantage was overwhelmingly hers.
The longer this localized stalemate dragged on, the higher the ambient humidity in the enclosed sphere became. As long as the fine water mist floating in the air continuously touched Byakuya's body and seeped deep into his clothing and skin... the absolute flag of victory would naturally fall into her hands.
At the exact same time, Byakuya Kuchiki also began to sense the subtle, dangerous physical changes occurring around his body. His limbs were becoming unusually heavy, and fine, microscopic water droplets had begun to densely form across the fabric of his Captain's haori.
'She's deliberately stalling,' Byakuya realized, his sharp eyes narrowing as he read her trap. 'She's waiting for the water vapor hanging in the air to completely saturate my physical body.'
The surrounding pink petals were currently evenly matched with the ocean current. If he wanted to break free from this aquatic cage before the humidity paralyzed his muscle control, he had to escalate his firepower immediately.
'There is only one way to absolute victory.'
Byakuya Kuchiki reversed his grip, pointing the tip of his Zanpakutō straight down toward the void beneath his feet. He opened his palm, letting the sword slip smoothly from his fingers.
RIPPLE.
The blade sank cleanly into the air as if dropping into the surface of a pristine, still lake, creating two massive rows of towering, skeletal sword blades rising from the void.
"Bankai."
"[Senbonzakura Kageyoshi]."
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