High-Speed Regeneration.
It is a specialized ability possessed by Hollows. Most discard this power when they ascend to become Arrancars, trading the ability to heal for greater raw offensive power. However, Ulquiorra Cifer was the exception.
Aside from his brain and vital organs, he could regenerate any part of his body within seconds of it being destroyed.
As long as Cian was utilizing the Take Over: Ulquiorra, a simple stab wound through the shoulder was no different from a scratch.
"What?!"
"How is that possible?!"
"It... it healed?!"
The onlookers stared, slack-jawed. The world of Magic was vast, and Healing Magic certainly existed, but it was usually a slow, deliberate process. No one had ever seen a wound close itself instantaneously in the middle of combat.
"You..."
Camille's composure cracked. He stared at the boy in shock.
Terrifying speed. Immense physical strength. Devastating magical output. And now, practically immortal? He had never encountered such a monster in all his years as an assassin.
"Your magic," Cian said, his voice flat, "is Full Reflection, correct?"
Cian analyzed his opponent calmly. Two attacks, two perfect reversals. The mechanic was obvious.
"Not bad," Camille sneered, recovering his arrogance. "You guessed it with just two exchanges. That's right! My Magic is Full Reflection. It means no magic and no physical attack can touch me, while I can attack you at will."
He spread his arms wide. "I am untouchable!"
"What?!" Elfman took a step back, despair clouding his face. "How can there be such unreasonable Magic? How do we fight something that can't be hit?"
"Now you understand the gap between us, don't you, kid?" Camille laughed. "You are strong. I'll admit that. But against me, you are powerless."
He pointed a gloved finger at Cian. "And you're using Take Over Magic, aren't you? That form isn't yours. It belongs to whatever soul you've embodied. But Take Over consumes Magic Power. Once your tank runs dry and that form breaks, you're dead! Hahahaha!"
Camille's laughter echoed through the ruined courtyard. He usually didn't care about killing random Mages, but crushing a genius like Cian? That gave him a thrill. It validated his own superiority.
"You wish!"
Elfman roared, stepping in front of Cian to shield him.
Cian reached out and patted the large man's shoulder. "Relax, Elfman. Don't worry so much."
He looked at Camille with bored eyes. "This guy is just boasting. Full Reflection seems invincible on paper, but if he were truly that powerful, he wouldn't be standing there monologuing. He would have rushed over and killed me already."
Cian tilted his head slightly. "The fact that you're playing defense proves you have limits. Full Reflection can't reflect everything. Otherwise, you wouldn't be hiding out here like a stray dog."
Camille's smile vanished. The air around him turned frigid. "Hmph! Sharp tongue, kid. Yes, my reflection has a threshold. If an attack exceeds a certain limit, I can't reflect it. But do you really think you can break that limit?"
He gestured to the destruction around them. "That Cero earlier was your strongest attack, wasn't it? It didn't even scratch me. So tell me, how long can you keep this form up?"
"Three minutes," Cian answered instantly.
"Ehh—?!" Elfman whipped his head around, eyes bulging. "Why would you tell him that?! Are you too honest for your own good?!"
"Three minutes? Bwahahaha!!" Camille threw his head back. "Kid, you better enjoy these last three minutes of your life!"
He had expected the boy to have reserves for maybe half an hour. But three minutes? Victory was already in the bag.
Elfman's expression hardened. The joking was over. He had to make a choice.
"Cian," Elfman growled low in his throat. "When I make my move, you run. Don't look back."
Elfman began to gather his Magic Power. He was preparing to use Beast Soul: Full Body Take Over. It was a forbidden technique for him—the same uncontrollable power that had caused him to strike his younger sister, Lisanna, leading to her "death" a year ago.
He was terrified of losing his sanity again. But he couldn't let another guildmate die in front of him.
"Three minutes," Cian's voice cut through the tension, calm and absolute. "Is more than enough."
Camille stopped laughing. "What did you say?"
Cian ignored him. He raised his katana horizontally, pointing the tip directly at the assassin. His eyes narrowed, focusing on the deep well of power within the card.
He whispered the release command.
"Enclose, Murciélago."
ZZZZZUUUUUM—!!!
The world shifted.
The sky above the mansion turned pitch black, blotting out the moon. A heavy, suffocating spiritual pressure crashed down on the area like gravity had increased tenfold.
"Whoa!!"
Elfman was physically shoved backward by the shockwave of energy.
Drip.
Black rain began to fall from the darkened sky.
Everyone looked up, confused.
"Black rain?"
Camille frowned. He tried to activate his Reflection on the droplets, but realized they carried no attack intent.
A drop landed on his cheek. He wiped it away, startled. It didn't feel like water. It felt cold, heavy, and slick.
"This isn't rain..." Camille realized with a jolt of horror. "This is Magic Power! The air is so saturated with his energy that it's condensing into liquid!"
The black rain ceased as quickly as it had begun.
In its place, Cian stood transformed.
His standard Arrancar uniform was gone. He now wore a long, flowing white robe that reached his ankles. The fragment of his mask had changed, becoming a complete helmet with two large, curved horns atop his head. His black hair had grown long and wild, cascading down his back. The tear troughs on his face had thickened and darkened.
But the most striking change was on his back.
Two massive, demonic black bat wings spread wide, blocking out the light.
Resurrección: Murciélago (Black-Winged Great Demon).
This was Ulquiorra's First Release.
The air vibrated around him. He didn't just look strong; he looked like an entity from another dimension.
Camille took an involuntary step back. His instincts were screaming at him to run. This pressure... it reminded him of the monsters among the Ten Wizard Saints.
"Do not waver," Cian spoke. His voice had gained a hollow, reverberating quality.
He looked down at Camille with eyes devoid of humanity—the eyes of a being looking at a dead man.
"Stand your ground. Tense your nerves. Do not let your guard down for a single instant."
The utter dismissal in Cian's tone snapped Camille's fear into rage.
"Huh?! What nonsense are you spouting, you brat!!" Camille yelled, desperate to regain control of the situation. "You haven't even touched a hair on my head! And you tell me not to waver?! You have less than a minute of power left! You're the one who should be shaking! Just wait! Once that form drops, I'm going to torture you to death!"
Cian raised a finger.
"One minute," he said coldly. "Is plenty."