Chapter 289 – 289 ⥤ The Final Glory

With a wave of her sleeve, the Sangai trembled.

The terrifying Reiatsu spread across the Omotesandō as if heaven and earth had turned upside down. It penetrated through the seventy-two barriers of the Soul King Palace’s outer layer, bursting toward the Soul Society at an immeasurable speed.

In the Seireitei, the few Captains locked in combat instantly sensed the disturbance. Even as they struck down their opponents, they looked skyward in horror toward the source of the Reiatsu.

This Reiatsu was so overwhelming that the weaker Captains couldn’t even perceive it.

On the Omotesandō, Senjumaru regarded the people before her with calm elegance — a stark contrast to the suffocating Reiatsu. The sky darkened suddenly, countless stars gleaming like watchful eyes.

A divine figure stood motionless as golden skeletal arms merged behind her and massive machinery whirred to life. The wheels of fate turned, and luminous fabric descended, its colors dancing in everyone’s eyes.

Akira watched the display, moved by the sight.

Senjumaru’s Bankai had grown far more powerful since their last encounter. The Soul King’s enhancement had truly transformed her Shinigami abilities.

As he flexed his muscles, ready to tear everything apart, Senjumaru’s face twisted with displeasure.

“This lady does not fight with brutes. Send someone else.”

Unlike Ōetsu, she recognized him immediately.

The memory of their previous battle made her chest tighten with anger.

Her meticulously crafted fabric had crumpled before his savage strength — his raw, destructive power reducing her artistry to nothing.

Like a nightmare she’d rather forget, she had no desire to repeat the experience. Perhaps the battle itself wasn’t terrible, but watching her precious fabrics destroyed was unbearable.

Akira bristled with rage.

How dare she take such a dainty stance with a crucial battle at hand? Would she demand a different opponent if faced with Yhwach?

He smoothed his non-existent sleeves, ready to correct her unacceptable attitude.

But before he could act, a figure stepped out from behind him, accompanied by a gentle voice:

“In that case, leave it to me.”

Senjumaru frowned but remained silent.

In fact, she was very clear about the gap between herself and a certain person. Even if she unlocked the so-called Blood Oath Seal, she couldn’t bridge that gap.

As a member of the Zero Division, she couldn’t simply allow outsiders to wreak havoc in the Soul King Palace — it would be a dereliction of her duties.

Whether the fight was genuine or mere theater, protocol had to be followed.

Regarding the mysterious young man who had appeared, though she didn’t recognize him, his interaction with Akira suggested he was a Wandenreich operative.

Wait!

Senjumaru noticed something and glanced behind the pair.

Kisuke and Pernida stood apart from the battle, heads bowed, muttering indecipherably. Judging by their expressions, they were clearly scheming something dubious.

Her face darkened at the sight.

Was Yhwach truly the only genuine invader? Were the others either already agents or soon to become them?

Senjumaru observed the battle beyond the Omotesandō, watching as Ichibē swatted Yhwach away once more. A flicker of pity crossed her eyes.

Poor fool — he had no idea what awaited him.

She’d thought serving in the Zero Division was miserable, but clearly there were worse fates. The realization brought her an odd sense of comfort.

With this thought, Senjumaru turned her attention to the two figures before her, a smile playing at her lips as she waved her sleeve.

Shimmering fabrics cascaded from the night sky, their brilliant hues weaving together to craft a dazzling new realm. A massive golden loom materialized behind her, its twisted rules descending upon Aizen, weaving and reshaping his destiny.

“Evil ones, behold. A thousand threads, in perfect order. This machine is…”

⤫ Shide no Rokushiki Ukimon no Hata ⥤ Loom of the Six-Colored Floating Patterns of Death! ⤬

Boom!!

The world shuddered as countless needle-thin blades emerged from the fabric, their razor tips fixing on Aizen’s position, piercing visible holes in space itself.

Seeing this display, Akira’s expression turned grave.

He was curious how this one would counter Senjumaru’s Bankai. Though this crazy woman wasn’t his equal, with the Blood Oath Seal unlocked, she remained one of the strongest in the Sangai.

Come to think of it, he felt ashamed for spending these years focused solely on improving his own strength, neglecting to help his good friend. Once this matter was settled, he would train Aizen properly, helping him reach the same transcendent level as himself.

Just as this thought crossed his mind, what happened next made Akira’s eyes widen.

Blue-purple Reiatsu materialized around Aizen, instantly freezing the countless needles one meter from his body. As if someone had pressed pause, the needles hung motionless in the flowing Reiatsu, unable to advance even a hair’s breadth further.

Upon closer inspection, these needles weren’t halted by any rule-based power — they were simply frozen before his overwhelming Reiatsu.

“A Shinigami’s battle is a battle of Reiatsu.” Aizen said calmly, “I’m just a scientist, without fancy rule-based abilities like yours. So… with the help of certain external objects, I’ve enhanced my Reiatsu somewhat.”

Observing the scene, Senjumaru’s expression grew serious.

Things had exceeded her expectations. Such Reiatsu should have created unbearable pressure, yet even at this close range, she couldn’t detect a trace of leaked power from him.

This could only mean one thing: his control over Reiatsu had surpassed everyone!

Who exactly was this man?!

Aizen’s lips curved slightly upward as the frozen Reiatsu burst outward like a breaking dam, instantly filling the entire Bankai space. The air grew heavy and viscous; even breathing became difficult.

Meeting his calm gaze, Senjumaru’s expression froze, then turned indignant.

Damn it, what did these two take the Zero Division for?

“I’m done fighting!” Senjumaru waved her sleeve, and thin needles appeared, swiftly sewing together a perfect duplicate of herself.

As Reiatsu flowed in, the doll became lifelike. But Senjumaru ruthlessly destroyed it herself, leaving a flawless corpse on the ground, utterly devoid of life.

“This lady has no interest in participating in your plans.” She released her Bankai, her elegant figure hiding among the fabric as she gradually withdrew, “Hmm, just remember not to destroy my residence.”

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Not far away, Kisuke pointed at the ravaged battlefield and explained:

“Actually, we’re all undercover agents.”

Pernida nodded, making an indistinct grunting sound, then manipulated Reishi to form a line of text in front of him.

{ That’s not important.

What’s important is being able to stay by Hashirama’s side…}

Clearly, Yhwach, who had granted Pernida the power of a Quincy, meant less to him than a single hair from Akira.

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“Give up, Yhwach. Your treacherous ambitions end here.” Ichibē swung his brush, and viscous ink splashed forth, instantly dyeing the vast expanse of sky black, “Because all ‘black’ is under my control.”

“Oh Twilight, and everlasting darkness, come to me, come and have a drink, and once you do, your life will fade…”

As the incantation began, blackness spread in all directions from Ichibē’s center, circles of ink patterns unfurling like dark flowers.

Yhwach’s expression shifted as he sensed the threat.

“The flowers will bloom along the road to hell. Where are the fish, let me paint them black, cut them into eight, and cook them well atop a flame of black, and then enjoy the meal…”

A bowl of ink materialized in Ichibē’s hand. As he took a sip, the formation beneath his feet expanded rapidly, trapping Yhwach mid-escape.

The Blut Vene activated in response, attempting to resist the encroaching power. Yet before pure blackness, this defense shattered instantly, transforming into countless Reishi particles that scattered into the surging waves of ink below.

“All that’s left are bones of white, make them a gravestone, and pay respect. May they never be reborn again, so that you won’t be sacrificed as food…”

⤫ Futen Taisatsuryō ⥤ Slaughterous Mausoleum of Halted Reincarnation! ⤬

A single character floated before Ichibē, releasing an indescribable pressure. With a clap of his hands, the ink below surged upward. A massive mausoleum rose from the ground, endless black gravestones materializing behind him.

“These gravestones were created by stealing a hundred nights from Soul Society’s future. I have summoned them for your burial. They will absorb the black that enrobes you, crushing your blood, flesh, and bones into the deep black of nothingness. Never again to be reborn… You will be cast down into the blackest of hells.”

Yhwach stared gravely at the scene before him.

Without doubt, Ichibē’s display had put immense pressure on him. His current state alone would not suffice to continue this fight.

It seemed it was time to seize more power…

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Meanwhile, in the Seireitei.

Kenpachi Zaraki grinned ferociously at his mirror image before him, waves of terrifying power radiating outward.

“The last time I had such an exciting fight was against the Captain. But now, it seems your power has reached its limit!”

Golden Reiatsu shot skyward, its savage presence forming the phantom outline of a skull.

“Drink…”

⤫ Shikai: Nozarashi ⥤ Initial Release: Weather-Beaten One! ⤬

The original saw-toothed blade transformed into a massive weapon, erupting with brilliant light. Under Loyd Lloyd’s despairing gaze, the giant blade cleaved through his saw-toothed sword with overwhelming force, shattering his final Blut Vene defense.

His supposedly indestructible body split cleanly in two!

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Elsewhere, Genryūsai held his charred blade horizontally, swinging down at his own doppelganger.

⤫ Zanka no Tachi, Higashi: Kyokujitsujin ⥤ Longsword of the Remnant Flame, East: Rising Sun Edge! ⤬

Royd Lloyd, believing he had perfectly copied his opponent’s power, vanished completely under the deceptively simple strike. Not even ashes remained.

Studying the scorched earth, Genryūsai snorted coldly.

“Blind loyalty!”

Having dispatched the formidable enemy, the old man refused to rest. Instead, he began searching the Seireitei for his next targets from Aizen’s list.

“Let’s see who’s next…”

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Azure points of light materialized around Yhwach, sinking into his body like fish beneath waves.

“My power has awakened. Now I see through everything in this world.” His pupils shifted, and two blood-red ones appeared alongside them.

Ichibē’s breath caught.

The pressure emanating from Yhwach now surpassed even Akira’s from that time, especially when facing those unnaturally strange eyes.

He knew exactly what this power was — a thousand years ago during negotiations, he himself had used the Soul King’s power and the Soul King’s Left Hand to seal it away.

Now after a millennium of slumber and seizure, Yhwach had returned to his strongest state…

⤫ Schrift: A ⥤ Sacred Letter: The Almighty! ⤬

Realizing this, Ichibē unleashed the full force of Futen Taisatsuryō without hesitation.

The power of Soul Society’s darkness roared thunderously, stripping everything from Yhwach and absorbing the blackness from his body.

However, it was all in vain. With The Almighty activated, the power of Futen Taisatsuryō was usurped and reversed, descending upon Ichibē himself.

BOOM!!

The viscous ink exploded. The supposedly indestructible Ōken body shattered, and the Zero Division leader — the Monk Who Calls the Real Name, Ichibē Hyōsube — was utterly destroyed.

Without a second glance, Yhwach flew straight toward the Omotesandō.

Strangely, the monk’s head turned slightly, empty eyes following Yhwach’s departure. Beneath his thick beard, the corners of his mouth curved upward.

When Yhwach landed again on the Omotesandō, he found three tragically dead Zero Division members.

The path ahead lay completely unobstructed. The process had been far smoother than anticipated, thanks to these capable subordinates.

Looking at it this way, the deaths of Lille Barro and the others seemed more acceptable.

Out with the old, in with the new. Hashirama and Madara both proved far more useful than their predecessors.

A savage smile crossed Yhwach’s face as his cold gaze turned skyward.

“Let’s go. To claim our final victory.”

As the words fell, his figure vanished from the Omotesandō.

Aizen watched his retreating figure, a strange light gleaming behind his glasses. He wasn’t accustomed to placing his hopes in others — not even the Soul King was an exception.

Hopefully the final outcome wouldn’t hold any surprises…

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep