Chapter 304 – 304 ⥤ The Beauty of Strength

While Ichigo nervously observed them, Aizen was sizing him up.

The young man’s appearance strongly resembled Isshin’s, and their interactions clearly revealed a close father-son bond.

Contemplating the carefree, perpetually single Isshin from his own world, Aizen felt a surge of emotion.

It fascinated him how individuals could develop so differently across parallel worlds and timelines. This world’s version had undoubtedly found greater success in life.

Noting Isshin’s son’s remarkable potential, Aizen wondered if he should capture the boy for research upon his return.

As he deactivated his Hōgyoku state and reverted to his original form, he carefully weighed this possibility.

His recent battle with his parallel self had taught him that while individuals might differ across worlds, their fundamental nature remained constant.

If this world’s Isshin had succeeded, there was no reason why his world’s version couldn’t have done the same. Silently, Aizen added this new research prospect to his list.

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Meanwhile, in another world, at the 10th Division barracks.

Isshin jolted awake, tumbling off his couch as cold sweat beaded on his forehead. He scanned his surroundings frantically, finding nothing amiss.

Yet an inexplicable sense of dread gripped his heart, sending chills down his spine.

Shuddering, he pulled his blanket tighter, seeking warmth against the mysterious cold.

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Soon, Ichigo steeled himself, feeling power surge through his body as others watched him intently. His gaze hardened with resolve.

With the Soul Society’s Captains incapacitated and few warriors remaining in the World of the Living, he stood as their last hope. If he faltered now, all would be lost.

At this point, it didn’t matter who the opponent was. Since he had already used the secret technique, he didn’t have much time left.

If he couldn’t resolve all threats within the effective time limit, they would face unimaginable disaster.

“Be careful.” Aizen warned before retreating from the battlefield.

Akira flexed his arms, his joints crackling like firecrackers. A powerful pressure swept over them, making Ichigo’s heart skip a beat.

This man, whose connection to Aizen remained unclear, radiated a terrifyingly strong presence.

“Since you’re defending Aizen, I’ll deal with you first, then eliminate him.” Ichigo raised his pure black Zanpakutō, his gaze determined, “I won’t hold back!”

Watching the spirited young man, Akira’s fighting spirit stirred as he drew Kūkan Mukai from the void, matching his opponent’s stance.

“If you’re so confident, show me what you’re capable of!”

Ichigo was surprised. He had expected his opponent to be like Aizen, trying to break him down with philosophical talk first.

But this one was direct, no beating around the bush.

Better this way — it saved time.

Ichigo’s gaze sharpened as he gripped Tensa Zangetsu and charged. His speed surpassed even the parallel Aizen from earlier.

In an instant, he crossed from the Senkaimon to Akira’s position, bringing his blade down in a decisive strike.

His opening move was broad and powerful, without flourishes. At the level of transcendence, flashy techniques added little — direct and decisive was better.

In a flash, their black blades collided dozens of times, sending sparks flying as the resonating sounds continued without pause. The rhythm was so fast it exceeded the spectators’ ability to track.

Waves of Reiatsu enveloped them, making the two look like intertwining double helixes spinning in the sky. Powerful shockwaves burst forth, carving huge craters in the ground.

Ichigo grew increasingly alarmed as the fight continued.

Though he kept increasing his power output, his opponent showed no strain. From start to finish, Akira remained relaxed, not even breaking a sweat.

Was this Aizen’s true trump card?!

“Kekeke, Ichigo, is this really all the power you have?” Akira grinned maliciously, casually sending him flying with a heavy slash, “With just this level of ability, you won’t be able to protect your friends and family!”

Looking at the demon-like figure before him, Ichigo couldn’t help but feel helpless.

Though he appeared to be an ordinary Shinigami, his power level was impossibly high.

Only now did Ichigo understand Aizen’s earlier warning — it hadn’t been meant for Akira, but for himself.

Monster!

Ichigo gritted his teeth, pushing his body to its limit once more as he charged forward in a flash of light, burning with rage.

“Haha, come on then!” Akira seized Kūkan Mukai, stomped hard on the air, and rushed to meet him.

The two clashed again, their battle reduced to a contest of raw power.

After watching for a while, Aizen lost interest.

True to his reputation as a brute, under his memetic contamination, even Ichigo had become reckless. Their fight was nothing but broad strokes, devoid of technique or skill.

For transcendent beings, it was embarrassing — shameful to be associated with.

Aizen shook his head and flash-stepped to appear before Urahara. His calm gaze immediately put the man on edge.

During the Blood War, Yhwach had named Kisuke Urahara one of the Five Special War Powers, but most of his methods relied on having sufficient information. In unexpected situations, he could only resort to unconventional measures.

But now those unconventional measures had absolutely no effect on the being before him.

After witnessing the battle between the two Aizens earlier, Urahara’s confidence had crumbled. Even with his world-class intelligence, he couldn’t conceive of any way to stop this Aizen.

Even Ichigo, he believed, stood no chance against this god-like being.

“Mr. Urahara.”

These simple words from Aizen made Urahara’s heart leap to his throat. He gripped Benihime tightly as Reiatsu swirled around him.

“No need to be nervous. I have no interest in destroying the world.”

His gentle and elegant demeanor gave Urahara a moment of déjà vu — as if facing Aizen from before his betrayal.

“You’ve probably figured it out already — Akira and I come from another world, a parallel world.” Aizen kept his explanation brief, knowing the other’s intellect would grasp his meaning.

When dealing with clever people, there’s no need for lengthy explanations.

“Regarding the Soul King, how far has your research progressed?”

This direct approach made Urahara momentarily uncomfortable. Considering the vast difference in their combat abilities, the shrewd shopkeeper wisely chose to play it safe.

“The linchpin that stabilizes the Sangai is an indispensable existence in this world. A truly great being who separated the Sangai a million years ago, in the truest sense…” He rambled on, revealing much about the Soul King’s secrets while deliberately avoiding the core of the question.

Aizen frowned slightly, realizing something — even in different worlds, Urahara’s cunning and evasive personality hadn’t changed one bit.

Perhaps he should have Akira engage in a thorough discussion with this fellow.

As they conversed, the phantom image of Karakura Town in the sky grew increasingly solid, as if it might descend upon the ruins at any moment.

Seeing this, Urahara’s expression tightened. If Karakura were caught in the battle between those two powerhouses, it would be reduced to ruins in moments — a dire situation indeed.

“Don’t worry.” A gentle voice spoke near his ear as Aizen gazed at the increasingly solid phantom city in the sky, “Karakura Town won’t descend to the World of the Living until the battle is over.”

As soon as he finished speaking, his eyes gleamed like nebulae, and massive Reiatsu surged forth with him at its center, sweeping majestically toward the heavens.

Under several bewildered gazes, the flowing Reiatsu enveloped the entire city, freezing it in the azure sky like amber.

Urahara felt his breathing become labored.

He had still underestimated the true power of the man before him — this level of Reiatsu was perhaps unmatched by any in the Sangai. Even the mysterious Zero Division probably couldn’t compare.

“A Shinigami’s battle is a battle of Reiatsu.” Aizen explained with a smile, “I’m just a scientist, I don’t have power like Akira. So… my Reiatsu being a bit stronger, you should understand, right?”

Urahara: “…”

He realized that both Aizen and that brute were somewhat abnormal.

You call this Reiatsu that can freeze an entire city “a bit stronger”?

“These are trivial matters.” Aizen remained unconcerned about his feat and returned to their previous topic, “Regarding the Soul King, I’ve conducted extensive research in my world. Shall we exchange findings?”

Urahara gave a forced smile, immediately grasping Aizen’s intent.

Though Aizen could simply demand his research results, he chose this respectful, diplomatic approach.

He really couldn’t help but cry.

As Urahara maintained his mock-tearful expression, Aizen began outlining his research plans for a backup Soul King.

“Quincy, Shinigami, Hollow, Soul King fragments… Integration, Hōgyoku’s power, Gremmy Thoumeaux…”

Though initially disinterested, Urahara’s expression grew serious as Aizen continued his explanation.

After all, he too was a scientist, driven by an insatiable curiosity for the unknown.

“I’ve actually developed a weakened version of the backup Soul King,” Urahara said, adjusting his bucket hat under Aizen’s expectant gaze. “Since the Hōgyoku can materialize desires, why not mass-produce it?”

Aizen’s eyes lit up.

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⤫ Getsuga Tenshō ⥤ Moon Fang Heaven-Piercer! ⤬

The powerful slash carved a canyon-like gorge in the ground, rolling dust unable to fill its depths.

Watching Ichigo, now merged with his Zanpakutō, Akira’s eyes brightened.

As expected of a protagonist among protagonists!

This rapidly increasing power surpassed understanding. While it had taken Akira years to reach his current level, Ichigo had risen from ordinary high school student to this in mere months.

Though still weaker than himself, the boy could now put up a fight.

Ichigo’s expression turned incredulous as his opponent withstood the Getsuga Tenshō head-on, charged forward, and brought down a fierce slash.

Space itself shattered, revealing deep darkness all around.

With no time to dodge, Ichigo could only raise his sword to meet the attack. Terrifying power crashed into him like heaven and earth overturning. The impact sent him flying backward, creating dramatic ripples through the air.

Now he understood the pain of being overwhelmed by pure power. This Akira had no special abilities — he was dominating through sheer strength alone.

He was completely outmatched. The more they fought, the more hopeless it became.

A demon-like grin suddenly appeared before Ichigo as he contemplated his next move.

“You dare to get distracted while fighting me?”

Another simple but powerful slash descended, forcing Ichigo to desperately counter with Reiatsu. His blade trembled under the impact, leaving half his body numb.

After several more exchanges, Ichigo found himself completely suppressed, beaten down like a punching bag. With no options left, he channeled his power to blast himself away from Akira, buying a precious moment to catch his breath.

Determination flashed in Ichigo’s eyes as he swung his Zanpakutō, his left hand touching his now-blackened right arm.

“This technique was meant for Aizen. But since you insist on standing in my way, you can have it instead.”

⤫ Saigo no Getsuga Tenshō ⥤ The Final Moon Fang Heaven-Piercer! ⤬

A heavy presence descended as Ichigo’s Reiatsu began layering upon itself, rising without limit.

A brilliant pillar of light pierced the sky, becoming a second sun above the ruins. Fierce winds howled around it, threatening to destroy everything in their path.

Under this overwhelming power, Ichigo’s orange hair darkened to black and grew to his waist, whipping in the wind. Solidified Reiatsu formed bandage-like wrappings around his body and face, while black patterns resembling a Quincy’s Blut emerged on his skin.

In this moment, Ichigo unleashed his full power.

Confidence blazed in his eyes as black energy swirled around him, warping the surrounding space.

“Using this technique means sacrificing all my Shinigami powers. That’s why it’s called ‘Final.'”

Akira’s eyes lit up with excitement.

To Ichigo’s bewilderment, Akira casually tossed aside his Kūkan Mukai. The Zanpakutō whistled through the air, reducing a distant mountain peak to ash.

He stripped off his Captain’s haori and tied his upper body’s Shihakushō around his waist, revealing his muscled torso. A wild grin spread across his face.

“Now we can start round two!”

Ichigo: “?”

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