The original captains of the Gotei 13 shook their heads with disdain.
If not for being controlled by the will of Hell, they wouldn't have bothered fighting alongside this useless rabble.
In strength and conviction, the two sides weren't even on the same level. Even if they wore the same armor, the difference in essence was night and day.
At that thought, the original captains glanced out of the corner of their eyes at the young man in the center.
This was the strongest Shinigami of the current era, the one acknowledged by Yamamoto.
Seeing him remain composed and unshaken despite being surrounded, they couldn't help but nod in quiet approval.
As a captain, Masatsuki Aozaki carried a name worthy of pride. Even if they couldn't gauge his Reiatsu precisely, the resolve he exuded—regardless of his true strength—was enough to ensure he hadn't brought shame to the Gotei 13.
"Don't worry. You're still useful."
With those words, Masatsuki Aozaki raised one hand and grasped the hilt of a long blade.
Baraggan was left in stunned silence, unable to grasp the meaning behind that statement.
If he were still alive, perhaps he would have understood.
But now that he served as a jailer of Hell, his existence belonged entirely to Hell. What could Masatsuki possibly do to him?
Was he planning to kill him, like he did with Szayelaporro?
For Baraggan, though... maybe that kind of release wouldn't be so bad.
The night wind howled past Masatsuki's ears. He had no time to adjust to the nature of this new battlefield—so instead, he relied on an old method, one that had never failed him.
Whoosh!
A slash of sword pressure shot from his blade, streaking past Baraggan's body.
It looked like a miss.
Just as Baraggan raised his axe to counterattack, the sword pressure suddenly stalled in midair, as if striking something unseen.
Baraggan turned his head—and felt a violent tug pulling at every part of his body.
Chains of darkness erupted from his flesh, stretching skyward—linked directly to the Hell Gate high above.
But then, in an instant, those chains snapped!
Without a pause, the sword pressure shot off like an aurora, slicing the air apart before vanishing into the horizon.
Masatsuki's right hand still rested firmly on Baraggan's shoulder, while his left had already plunged deep into the folds of that dark purple robe.
His hand clutched something—something vital—that left Baraggan completely frozen.
Tchk.
A faint sound followed, then a cold voice echoed:
"You should be dead."
The emotionless words reached his ears—and in the next moment, all awareness was swallowed by the void.
Masatsuki Aozaki ripped Baraggan's soul from his body without resistance, as easily as if he were drawing water.
Baraggan's form began to crumble, dissolving instantly into countless reishi.
The particles lingered briefly before drifting toward the Hell Gate above.
Under the pale moonlight, the once-proud jailer commander—who had just moments ago been barking orders and flaunting authority—vanished into thin air before everyone's eyes.
Dozens of jailers were left frozen in place, some still mid-charge, unable to react in time.
Now they stood motionless, as if frozen by a spell.
This...
Their thoughts froze, minds going blank—as if time itself had come to a halt.
They were completely thrown by the sudden reversal, unsure how to respond or what to do next.
At that moment, the strongest Shinigami casually tossed the red orb in his hand behind him in one smooth motion.
The blonde woman behind him caught it effortlessly, in a motion both elegant and precise.
"Don't bother. Even if you kneel and beg, I won't show mercy."
Masatsuki Aozaki's lips curled into a cold, villainous smirk.
And just like that, the tide had turned.
The Shinigami of the Gotei 13, who moments ago had been at a clear disadvantage, now stood tall, their momentum reversing the battlefield as they closed in, surrounding the forces of Hell.
"The Gate of Hell isn't fully closed—we still have a chance to escape!"
Suddenly, one of the Togabito shouted, his voice laced with fear and desperation.
He turned and bolted, trying to seize what might be the last sliver of hope.
These Togabito had fought through the entire night, paying a heavy price. They had died over and over again, only to be reborn each time—driven by the single goal of defeating Yamamoto Shigekuni.
But now, all their efforts had crumbled into nothing. Their hopes were shattered, and frustration consumed them.
With their leader dead and Hell's forces in retreat, the tension that had held their nerves taut finally snapped.
The Shinigami's jeering voices pierced like blades, jolting their dazed minds back to reality.
"Run! Get out of here—now!"
Someone finally came to their senses and screamed out a warning.
The makeshift army immediately fell into disarray. Everyone burst into Shunpo or Sonído, fleeing toward the Gate of Hell in a blind panic.
But the Shinigami of the Gotei 13 weren't about to just stand by and watch.
The sound of blades slicing through the air rang out one after another.
Katana sank cleanly into flesh like practice dummies—cutting down the fleeing Hell beasts one after another with ruthless precision.
Masatsuki Aozaki tilted his head slightly. The Gate of Hell had narrowed to a mere crack and was slowly closing.
But then—someone stepped out from the other side of the gate.
No!
Yamamoto, who had just relaxed, felt his heart plummet.
The moment he laid eyes on that man, a terrible premonition surged through him.
"You brat, kill him—now!"
Yamamoto staggered to his feet, drawing Ryūjin Jakka, trying to unleash its power.
"Bankai..."
The word had barely left his lips when his Reiatsu flared—then immediately collapsed again.
Masatsuki Aozaki had wanted to say something to reassure the old man.
Like, "Your disciple did well today. I can cut down any enemy in my path."
But upon seeing that shaken, uncharacteristic look on the old man's face, Masatsuki turned back and silently swung his blade.
Another wave of sword pressure shot forth.
In an instant, the figure emerging from the gate was sliced clean in two.
But the blast didn't stop there—it slammed into the Gate of Hell with tremendous force.
The massive door, like a great iron shield, let out a thunderous boom.
Under the impact, the gate trembled violently—and then... vanished.
"Who the hell was that? What kind of guy can make the old man react like that!?"
Masatsuki Aozaki frowned, his eyes narrowed as he stared ahead.
"Kenpachi Kuruyashiki."
A voice answered calmly, as a figure appeared in a flash of Shunpo—it was Retsu Unohana.
Having shaken off Batsu'unsai Katori's pursuit, she had rushed straight to the scene.
She gazed quietly into the night sky, her expression grave, a sharp glint in her eyes as her brow furrowed.
"It's too late, Masatsuki. We need to get out of here. Now."
Following her gaze, Masatsuki Aozaki looked up.
The sky above Seireitei seemed to be shrouded by some vast, mysterious force.
If viewed from high above—perhaps from the Soul King Palace—one might see it:
A massive opening in the ground of Seireitei, stretching for several ri in diameter.
It looked like the gaping jaws of a prehistoric beast rising from the abyss, ready to devour and destroy everything in its path.