The moment I drew my blade, the monk rose from his seat and raised his brush.
Calling this a fight would be generous; considering the chasm of power between the monk and myself, it was nothing short of a slaughter.
It felt like twisting the wrist of a mere child.
In the first place, if it isn't the Soul King himself, no one can truly withstand my full power. Whether it's the monk or anyone else, the result is the same.
That is exactly why I try not to use my strength unless necessary.
Enforcing my will through raw power rather than resolve would be following the law of the jungle—the very thing I despise most.
But that doesn't mean I'm just going to stand here like an idiot and let myself be struck when I possess that power.
Folding space itself, I appeared right before his nose in a single step and swung my sword.
A simple vertical slash, sweeping from bottom to top, devoid of logic or secret technique.
Yet the monk couldn't even withstand that single blow. He was sent flying, crashing into one of the pillars of the Hyosu-ryi Palace.
"I gave you plenty of chances. I handed over the world and watched what you would do. I gave you options and watched your choices. I even minimized my intervention, just as you requested. And yet, you always choose the wrong path."
Clatter...
Brushing off the falling wooden splinters as he emerged, the monk looked at me and replied.
"The world...! Urgh... it must turn... without the intervention of a god...!"
"I am no god. There are only those who choose to elevate me and call me one. I am well aware that I am simply a human."
"Don't make me laugh...! You talk of humans having free will, yet you stepped in to stop them when they chose to wage war with that very will! If that isn't divine intervention, then what is? Even shamelessness should have its limits!"
"Seeing something go astray and watching it happen while holding the power to stop it is not 'respecting will'—it is incompetence and indulgence! Do not confuse freedom with negligence!"
I grabbed the monk by the collar as he spewed his contradictory nonsense and hurled him away.
The ground shattered, and the monk bounced across the floor like a ball several times before stumbling to his feet.
"Blacken... Ichimonji...!"
Unleashing his Shikai, the monk lunged at me.
He swung and thrust the long brush as if it were a spear, but nothing could touch me.
"Hmph!!"
I parried the swinging brush with my Asauchi, strike after strike.
I continued until the Asauchi in my hand was dyed pitch-black, becoming an unrecognizable mass of shadow.
"I know what you're thinking, but it's a pointless endeavor. This one doesn't have a name yet."
"Regardless, it is a fact that it has lost its essence of 'blade.' Now, that object can neither cut nor pierce. An item that has lost its essence cannot possibly fulfill its purpose."
"I wondered why you were struggling so hard... were you aiming for my sword instead of me?"
"What...?"
Seeing the monk flinch in surprise, I let out a short chuckle.
"Until I called its name, it was but a single gesture. When I called its name, it came to me and became a flower."
"Do you truly intend to act as a god!"
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm human. A single human who is neither omniscient nor omnipotent. Besides, isn't it laughable to discuss 'essence' based on something as trivial as obscuring a name? Does the essence vanish just because you hid the name? No. Does the essence change because the name was stolen? No. If anyone is under the delusion of being a god, it's you—the one who thinks he can control the fundamental nature of things just by blotting out a name."
As I shrugged, the monk's eyes rolled back. He slammed Ichimonji into the ground and clasped his hands in prayer.
"O Eternal Darkness. O Eternal Darkness. Come hither. Show thy face for a moment, and share a drink before thou departest. For to drink is to lose one's life. Even on the road to the afterlife, flowers shall bloom."
"Fine. Give it your best shot. Let's see how far you can go."
As I watched quietly, the black color bled out of the obi tied around my waist, turning it the same stark white as my hakama.
All the blackness in the vicinity, including shadows, began to gather behind the monk's back.
"Where is the accompaniment? I shall dye it pitch-black, tear it to shreds, sear it in pitch-black flames, and devour it whole. With the remaining bone-white remains, I shall erect a tombstone and pray for thy soul. So that thou shalt never be born again. So that thou shalt never become my sacrifice."
Black straw ropes, black stupas, black grave markers, and even a black shrine with a hipped roof appeared.
The darkness gathered from all directions soon formed a massive tomb.
"Futen Taisatsuryo (Mausoleum of Non-Reincarnation)."
The tomb exploded, and all that blackness poured toward me like torrential rain.
No matter where I looked, all that met my eyes was pitch-black void.
A desolate darkness with no way forward and no place to retreat.
In a space where even sound was devoured and silence reigned so heavy it wouldn't be strange to be crushed into nothingness, I felt a strange sense of familiarity.
'This feels like the Hell of Black Darkness.'
After a brief look around, I gazed down at the Asauchi in my hand.
"I'll borrow this for a moment."
I searched for the path within me and reached out my hand.
It wasn't that Ichibe Hyosube, the monk, didn't understand what Shimon Meio, the Nether King, was saying.
However, that ideology was flawed.
"This world must be maintained.... There are things that must happen.... To preserve the world the Soul King left behind. That is the duty of those who remain..."
Therefore, anything that threatened this world had to be erased.
If there was even a one-in-a-million chance that this world would collapse, then the act of sacrificing the Soul King to create it would become meaningless.
So, even if only to honor the sealed Soul King, this world must be preserved.
Why could he not see that? Why could he not understand this?
"Sigh..."
Letting out a deep, heavy sigh, he stood up once more and gripped Ichimonji.
"Shin'uchi: Shirafude Ichimonji (White Brush Straight Line)."
He had agonized over this endlessly.
To bring down the one who had no name.
To banish the existence that endlessly threatened the world's survival to the far side.
The conclusion he reached was...
"Is it not enough to give a name to that which has none?"
Mumei (No Name / No Life / No Light).
"Nameless one, since thou hast no life, vanish into the place where not a shred of light reaches."
Pure white characters were etched over the pouring darkness.
Gazing into the abyss of blackness that still showed no reaction, he lowered Ichimonji and clasped his hands in a final prayer.
This was the Futen Taisatsuryo, fueled by a hundred nights stolen from the Soul Society of a hundred years in the future.
Since it was a technique developed specifically to prepare for the possibility of the Soul King breaking his seal, even the Nether King should not be safe...
"For the next year... no, for ten years, lose yourself within the pouring darkness and fade away."
Staring at the hole from which the darkness spewed with trembling hands, he let out a sigh and unclasped his prayer.
Overwhelmed by a crushing exhaustion, he used Ichimonji as a cane to stay upright before finally collapsing into a sitting position.
It was over.
Just as that thought crossed his mind and he let out a breath.
—Vajra (वज्र).
Light flickered from beyond the pouring blackness.
It was an impossible occurrence. It was something that should never happen.
He scrambled to his feet and reached for Ichimonji, but a bolt of pure white lightning struck, obliterating his left arm along with the brush he was reaching for.
"Urgh...!!"
The agony surging through his entire body made his eyes widen for a split second, and he had to leap backward to avoid the following bolt of white lightning.
However, the falling lightning seemed to possess a will of its own; it curved sharply in mid-air and tore away his other arm.
"Aargh...!?"
Thud, drip...
He looked down at his blood spilling onto the floor before raising his head.
The Futen Taisatsuryo was still active.
And yet, this lightning had clearly erupted from within that very darkness.
"How...!!"
"Did you really think something of this level could obscure my vision? I am a man who has walked his own path with his own will for a million years. That 'grand fate' you all keep blabbing about? Fck that. If I were the type to believe in and follow such trash, I would have hung myself a long time ago."
The voice echoing from the darkness was unmistakably that of the Nether King.
What was truly terrifying was that his words could be heard so clearly from within the Futen Taisatsuryo—a technique that was supposed to swallow even sound itself.
Soon, the Nether King calmly parted the darkness and stepped out.
In his hand, he held neither a sword nor a spear, but something else. It was too short and blunt to be used as a conventional weapon.
'Is it the power of that tool? No, that can't be. It's clearly the Nether King's own power. But how? I should have erased his name, his life, and even the light itself... how can he stand!?'
"Don't underestimate human will, Monk."
"Will...? You're telling me you broke through Futen Taisatsuryo with nothing but your will?"
"Because the path is something I find within myself. And just because I can't see what's in front of me doesn't mean I don't know the way."
As he spoke, the Nether King let out a deep sigh and scratched his head.
His casual demeanor in such a desperate situation was utterly alien.
It was as if he were an entity that didn't belong to this world at all.
"I didn't think I'd have to do this a second time... but here we go again."
For the first time, the Nether King wiped all expression from his face.
A chill, like a blade piercing the heart, made the monk reflexively tremble.
"The sin of attempting to manipulate the lives of others according to one's own whims. The sin of deceiving others under the pretext of 'for the sake of the world.' The sloth of merely watching problems you could solve while remaining complacent in reality. The greed of sacrificing others to protect your own vested interests. And the sin of distorting and interpreting the Soul King's will to suit your own tastes under the guise of serving him. The nature of your crimes is truly wretched; therefore, under the name of the Nether King, I pass judgment."
With a thunderous roar, the sky turned pitch-black, and white lightning coalesced around the mace in the Nether King's hand.
"The sinner, Ichibe Hyosube, is hereby stripped of his position in the Zero Division. Rot in Muken until you have paid for your crimes in full."
A single pillar of lightning struck from above, dyeing the entire world pure white.
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