"Oh? This round, are you planning to be my opponent?"
Kurosaki Masaki's eyes narrowed slightly. That icy gaze passed over Aizen and landed directly on Rosse, who stood off to the side, completely unmoved. Deep in her eyes, a trace of hidden regret flickered.
To be honest, the person she wanted to kill most, deep down, was Rosse.
It was just a pity that with Aizen stepping in to stir things up, she no longer had a reason to make a move against Rosse this time.
Thinking about it another way, maybe this was also a kind of relief.
After all, deep within her shattered heart, there was still fear left toward that man.
That fear, etched into her very bones, had long since clung to her like a parasitic curse, constantly gnawing away at her will.
If Rosse had not ordered her to act freely this time, she would not even have had the courage to stand in front of him.
The despair and terror that man had brought her were simply too deep, and far too long-lasting.
"Come. Let me see the true strength of the legendary Espada of Hueco Mundo's royal palace," Aizen held his sword in one hand and made an elegant "please" gesture.
Before his words had even finished, his figure vanished into thin air amid that elegance.
Fast. So fast it reached the extreme limit of Shunpo.
The air did not even have time to let out a sonic boom before Aizen appeared like a ghost at the blind spot behind Kurosaki Masaki's left side.
Kyoka Suigetsu sliced through the air, carrying a sharpness that could cut space itself, wrapped in vast spiritual pressure, and slashed mercilessly toward the woman's neck.
Striking now was both his own choice and, in his judgment, the best timing to reveal his strength.
Moreover, the enemy before him this time was a perfect vessel that fused Quincy, Hollow, and Shinigami powers into one.
As a researcher, and as a pursuer of such power, he was eager to personally experience this strength that surpassed boundaries.
Clang!
A teeth-grinding clash of metal exploded suddenly, and a violent shockwave swept outward like a storm, centered on the two of them.
Yet a scene that left everyone breathless appeared.
What blocked Aizen's mountain-splitting, stone-crushing strike was not any solid shield, not a spirit particle longbow, not even a Zanpakuto.
It was merely a few pale, slender fingers.
Kurosaki Masaki did not even turn her head. Her left hand reached back casually, and with just two fingers, she firmly pinched the blade of Kyoka Suigetsu.
No matter how Aizen drove his spiritual pressure, the blade did not move an inch, unable to advance even a fraction.
"Is this the Quincy's Blut Vene? Or the hierro of a top-class Great Hollow?"
Feeling the resistance coming from the blade, Aizen's brows knit slightly, and a flash of surprise passed through his eyes.
"Dealing with your sword doesn't require activating Blut Vene or hierro to that extent."
Kurosaki Masaki slowly turned her head. In her eyes was a calm so absolute it inspired despair.
"You should know this. In the face of an absolute gap in spiritual pressure, skill means nothing. Between your spiritual pressure and mine, there is a chasm you can never cross."
In the laws of Shinigami combat, this was the cruelest truth.
Once spiritual pressure exceeded the opponent by two full tiers, attacks from the lower side could no longer break defense.
Although the spiritual pressure Aizen was currently displaying had reached the terrifying S+ level, under years of Rosse's violent torment and bodily exploitation, Kurosaki Masaki's spiritual pressure had long been forced beyond its limits, reaching an SS rank that made even captains look up in awe.
This godlike leap she possessed now was entirely the result of her own exceptional talent, stacked atop Rosse's endless, merciless physical abuse.
Feeling the cold touch of the blade at her fingertips, a trace of disgust flashed through Kurosaki Masaki's eyes.
If she could choose, she would rather not have this power that made her feel utterly filthy.
"A simple gap in spiritual pressure, indeed. This is the most despair-inducing and least arguable truth in all battles."
Aizen withdrew his blade and retreated, speaking softly. There was no frustration or fear in his tone, only a deep sense of agreement with this rule of power.
Or rather, this was the truth he himself had always acknowledged.
In the past, he had looked at other mediocrities this way. It was just that this time, he was the weaker side.
"Boring."
Kurosaki Masaki curled her lips, showing an arrogance and weariness reserved for ants.
Her right index finger rested on the bowstring. There was no visible charge-up. She merely flicked it lightly.
Buzz!
The air trembled. Countless deep blue spirit particle beams formed in an instant like a sudden rain of pear blossoms, tearing through the air with shrill whistles as they rained straight down on Aizen.
The current Aizen was far too weak.
Even holding that Zanpakuto capable of controlling the five senses, in front of an absolute wall of power, he posed no real threat to her at all.
Weak. Just far too weak.
Compared to the abyss-like terror Rosse the monster brought her, the Aizen before her, and even the entire Gotei 13, seemed so frail and pathetic.
'Why? Why did a monster like Rosse suddenly appear in this world?'
'Why is this world full of trash? Other worlds have already started invading, yet a bunch of people here are still playing house?'
Kurosaki Masaki continued her attacks, while violence and madness flashed through her eyes.
Whoosh!
Aizen's figure did not hesitate in the slightest. At the instant the arrow storm closed in, he vanished from where he stood with a Shunpo.
Almost the moment he left, the devastating strike descended.
Rumble!
The ground wailed. From that casual shot alone, the spot where Aizen had just been standing, along with the ground within a hundred-meter radius, shattered instantly.
Smoke, dust, and stone shot into the sky. The once-flat street turned into a devastated ruin in the blink of an eye.
If the other captains had not reacted quickly enough to dodge, they would likely have been riddled with holes by the dense rain of spirit arrows by now.
"Too slow."
After missing her strike, Kurosaki Masaki pressed her advantage without mercy, her gaze still cold as ice.
She did not need to aim at all. Relying solely on her perception of spiritual pressure, the spirit particle longbow in her right hand had already precisely locked onto the position where Aizen's Shunpo would land.
This time, it was no longer a test.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The fingers pulling the bowstring moved so fast they left afterimages.
That elegant spirit particle longbow now seemed to transform into a heavy cannon spewing flames of death.
Hundreds, then thousands of arrows linked together, converging into a torrent of destruction that poured out in an instant.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Explosions roared endlessly, deafening the ears.
The battlefield's affected area was like it had been carpet-bombed by a nuclear strike. Every arrow that hit the ground blasted out a massive crater.
Even Aizen, who possessed the highest level of Shunpo in Soul Society, was forced into an utterly miserable state by this brutally overwhelming firepower.
From barely being able to probe at close range before, in just a few seconds, he had been driven back hundreds of meters, without finding a single chance to counterattack.
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