"So you insist on this course of action?"
Kanzaki Anzai let out a dry, incredulous laugh.
"Yamamoto… you really are getting dull with age. No wonder your own disciple abandoned your tutelage to stand under the Kanzaki banner."
He took a step forward, sneering lightly.
"Have you truly failed to grasp the situation even now?
The Kuchiki have fallen into decline. The Shihōin are hesitant and unwilling to commit. The Shiba are short-sighted and weak—barely worth mentioning."
"Of the Five Great Noble Houses, three have already lost their footing. Only the Kanzaki family rises in strength. If I do not seize this moment, how could I face my ancestors?"
Yamamoto's forehead twitched, veins visibly swelling.
It wasn't the mockery that angered him—it was the mention of Kisaragi Akira's defection from his mentorship, the implication that the boy had already begun complaining about him within the Kanzaki household.
He could already imagine that brat weaving all sorts of stories behind his back.
When this matter was settled, he would definitely have a "proper conversation" with the child.
Yamamoto's eyes narrowed, a dangerous pressure filling the air.
Anzai raised his hand dismissively.
"No need to make that face."
"The man I am now is no longer the man you knew."
A cold, contemptuous smile spread across the Kanzaki elder's lips.
"You've lived thousands of years without learning the truth of this world. All your experience amounts to nothing but ignorance—ignorance wrapped in delusion."
"Tell me, Yamamoto… did you truly believe I might be afraid of you?"
As his words fell, a violent wave of spiritual pressure exploded outward.
The entire office shook as though the heavens themselves were collapsing.
The wooden floor groaned under the strain, splintering into jagged cracks. Debris scattered like hail. The sheer oppression made the air feel heavy—almost solid.
From across the barracks, heads turned toward the source of the eruption, eyes wide with disbelief.
A completely unfamiliar reiatsu—massive and violent—had appeared right inside the Captain-Commander's office without anyone noticing.
Shanomura Jirō and Okada Genshirō, who had been quietly processing documents, exchanged stunned glances.
Bad news: The enemy had infiltrated.
Good news: They had infiltrated the Captain-Commander's office.
Having followed Yamamoto for centuries, even a millennium, they had witnessed his true power.
Only a few days earlier, Yamamoto had warned them that unrest might soon shake the Seireitei and told them to prepare.
But not in their wildest imagination did they expect the enemy to charge straight toward the strongest Shinigami alive.
The Captain-Commander hadn't drawn his blade in centuries.
The world had forgotten the terror of being ruled by fire.
Yamamoto slowly opened his eyes, the faint surprise within them barely noticeable.
He had thought Kanzaki Anzai nothing more than an insect he could crush with one hand.
But the reiatsu now pouring from him… far exceeded expectations.
He had become a stronger insect.
Perhaps one that required slightly more effort to squash.
"Fear. Tremble."
Anzai spread his arms as if to embrace the world.
"Witness what true power looks like!"
As Anzai's spiritual pressure continued to rise, Yamamoto's surprise deepened.
He thought the earlier outburst had been the man's limit.
But it had only been the beginning.
Yamamoto recalled the intelligence Kisaragi Akira had sent back:
Kanzaki Anzai had stolen experimental artificial-soul technology to implant fragments of the Spirit King's power within himself—granting unnatural strength.
And judging by what Yamamoto now sensed, the old fool had truly opened his heart to Akira, sharing everything without reserve.
To be outsmarted by that brat… how embarrassing.
Yamamoto glanced calmly at the Kanzaki patriarch, observing the rapidly changing state of his body and reiatsu.
A moment later, he finally spoke.
"Is that all?"
Anzai, drunk on the rush of expanding power, froze at the remark.
Brows knitting together, he prepared to retort—
—when Yamamoto silently rose from his seat.
He casually hung his captain's haori on the stand, completely unfazed by the crushing spiritual pressure filling the room.
Then, with deliberate calm, he reached for the blade mounted on the wall.
The sound of metal sliding free filled the air—cold, sharp.
The temperature inside the office rose instantly.
Anzai narrowed his eyes, tension flickering in his expression.
As expected of the strongest Shinigami of the last thousand years—Yamamoto was not to be underestimated.
Without hesitation, Anzai drew his own blade.
A suffocating wave of killing intent burst forth.
The instant steel clashed, a thunderous boom tore through the air.
Power surged like a brewing volcano—pressure mounting, heat roiling, spiritual flames rising like molten rock ready to burst free.
When the blade finally swung down—
—the entire barracks quaked as if on the verge of collapse.
Cracks webbed across walls and ceilings, the scorching air shimmering like desert heat.
Sparks of metal rang out like shrieking fire.
For the first time, Kanzaki Anzai truly felt it—
the crushing, suffocating force of the man feared as the strongest Shinigami in a millennium.
And he finally understood why no reinforcement had come.
Where Yamamoto stood, none could assist.
Because no one was qualified to intervene.
The Captain-Commander was the strongest defense.
Face-to-face, Yamamoto's eyes burned like embers.
He tightened his grip, flames coursing along the blade.
Then he pressed down.
A wave of power like a volcanic eruption swept forward, scorching heat surging with deadly finality.
CLANG!!!
Metal shrieked, fire roared, and an explosive blast swallowed the room.
Unable to dodge, Anzai was blasted backward—slammed into the far wall—
—and then through it.
BOOM!!
The office collapsed entirely, wood and stone erupting upward in a pillar of smoke.
A dark figure shot out of the debris, crashing through several buildings in a line, carving a smoking trench through the barracks.
Dozens of Shinigami stared, frozen.
Before panic took hold, Jirō barked commands, ordering immediate evacuation.
No ordinary soldier could survive even the residual shockwaves of this battle.
Even watching was a luxury they could not afford.
A single fragment of Yamamoto's power… could erase them entirely—without leaving ash.
Kanzaki Anzai staggered out of the rubble, horror widening his eyes.
He had thought he overestimated Yamamoto.
But even that had not reached the man's minimum.
And that was merely Yamamoto's Shikai.
What if he used his Bankai…?
From the drifting smoke, a figure emerged—wreathed in roaring flames, walking as if rising from the depths of hell itself.
A crushing pressure descended like the wrath of a god.
"Those who defy justice… shall be judged."
"All things of the universe… return to ash."
"Ryūjin Jakka."
Flames surged skyward—an apocalypse made of fire.
Night was banished as a sun erupted into existence.
Kuchiki Estate
The estate had become a battlefield engulfed in chaos.
Screams, clashing steel, explosions of kidō—
spiritual pressure collided wildly in every direction, flooding the air with choking heat.
Brilliant lights burst overhead, painting the night sky in violent color.
Hundreds of Shinigami fought in a massive melee, the battlefield a storm of chaos.
At the center of it, a single presence stood out—
a searing violet aura that cut through the night like a blade.
A silver arc flashed.
In the blink of an eye, another enemy fell lifeless.
It was a simple strike—nothing special—but under that violet spiritual pressure, no opponent lasted even a second.
The figure wrapped in violet reiatsu moved like a reaper, weaving through the battlefield, harvesting lives with merciless precision.
Until Kanzaki Usamaru intercepted him.
Steel clashed, scattering sparks.
They faced each other across the battlefield, locked eyes brimming with hatred.
"Kuchiki Kyōga!" Usamaru shouted.
"You should be in the Rukongai frontlines—why are you here?!"
Usamaru had dared to bring the Kanzaki clan to attack the Kuchiki estate for several reasons:
lesser nobles had recently joined them, swelling their forces—
and most importantly, the Kuchiki family's prodigy, Kyōga, was not supposed to be home.
"Father anticipated your treachery," Kyōga replied coldly.
"He summoned me back two days ago."
"Today marks your downfall."
His scarlet wind-silk coat fluttered violently, violet reiatsu thickening around him.
Usamaru's pupils shrank.
Their plan… was exposed?
A traitor among the Kanzaki?
But he had no time to think—Kyōga's attacks grew sharper and faster.
Even without releasing his Zanpakutō, Kyōga's pressure was overwhelming.
His prowess surpassed several captains; even Vice-Captain Mizunami couldn't defeat him.
But what terrified Usamaru most—
—was Kyōga's Zanpakutō:
Muramasa.
A cursed blade said to bend other Zanpakutō to its will, weakening enemy Shinigami by a third—or more.
Under such imbalance, Kyōga could rival almost any opponent.
On the battlefield, he was a walking calamity.
Usamaru's confidence collapsed.
He was being crushed—forced into pure defense, unable to retaliate at all.
"With the Kuchiki name upon my back, I will never allow traitors like you to endanger our family!"
Kyōga's final strike sent Usamaru flying, blood spraying across the ground.
He raised his blade.
"Whisper… Muramasa."
Violet reiatsu exploded outward, blanketing the entire battlefield.
Instantly—
Kanzaki warriors froze, their Zanpakutō turning against them.
Heads flew.
Blood sprayed.
The battlefield fell into stunned silence.
Usamaru had been prepared… but even then, his own Zanpakutō's partial rebellion left him barely standing.
Even a mid-seat officer could defeat him now.
Kyōga approached, eyes cold.
Usamaru stumbled backward in terror.
"No—no, you can't kill me!"
"Lord Anzai will soon become a god of this world!
If you kill me, your whole family will pay!"
Kyōga hesitated briefly—his blade slowing.
He didn't know if the words were true.
But for the sake of his family's future… he couldn't dismiss them entirely.
Seeing this hesitation, Usamaru's expression twisted.
He took several steps back, preparing to flee.
But the instant he turned to flash-step away—
—silver light sliced across his throat.
A crimson line bloomed.
Thud.
His headless body collapsed.
Kyōga stared down without emotion.
"If I let you escape… the Kuchiki family would pay just as dearly."
"The moment you raised your blade against us, your fate was sealed."
Shihōin Estate
Compared to the other battlefields, this one was almost… calm.
After the Second Division's elite unit charged in—
and after one particular "runaway truck" smashed through the enemy lines—
the battlefield was in shambles.
Despite having only mid-tier spiritual pressure, Kisaragi Akira fought with the raw, absurd power of a vice-captain—at times even a captain.
The noble rebels couldn't keep up.
They had lived for centuries—
yet none had ever encountered someone who threw his Zanpakutō like a knife, then followed it up with a devastating punch.
Block the flying blade with all your strength—
and before your arms finished shaking, the next instant a monstrous fist smashed into your face.
One Yuan-style: Soothing Palm was enough to break hope.
One Yuan-style: Crushing Force was enough to dominate the battlefield entirely.
Hishizumi rubbed the cold sweat from his brow as he watched Akira rampage through the crowd.
He finally remembered.
This was the same guy who punched him across Rukongai—
then kidnapped Lady Yoruha right in front of him.
His reiatsu wasn't strong at all—
so where did this absurd combat power come from!?
And thinking back to how Lady Yoruha had recognized Akira and willingly "cooperated" with him in that bizarre kidnapping act…
Hishizumi felt his sanity crumble.
One person going wild was bad enough.
But even Lady Yoruha—head of the Shihōin and Captain of the Second Division—joined him in that madness?!
Did she trust him that much!?
But among everyone present, there was one person whose mental state was even worse.
Kisukawa Kusaya stared blankly at Akira's familiar silhouette tearing through the battlefield, hands trembling as he held his sword.
Could someone explain—
When exactly did Lord Kisaragi betray them?!