Boom—like a fly swatted by a careless hand, Dordoni's body was hurled backwards, smashing through palace walls one after another until rubble and dust swallowed him whole. Nilu, Peixue, and Dondochakka stared blankly at the long tunnel carved into the walls, their minds blank. They simply could not believe what they had just witnessed. That man—once Espada No. 3, a being who had stood at the pinnacle of Hueco Mundo's might—had been dismissed by a single casual gesture.
This was not an Adjuchas. This was an Arrancar. A being whose strength eclipsed even the rare Vasto Lorde. Dordoni's name had once been etched into the ranks of the Espada, holding the third seat among them before being displaced. His fall to the number 103 did not reflect weakness but merely the system of numbering. Any Arrancar who lost an Espada seat received a three-digit rank, yet their strength still eclipsed most others beneath the Ten. In truth, among the legion of Arrancar, Dordoni had once been one of the strongest beneath Espada—yet here he was, swatted like nothing.
Their gazes turned toward the youth walking so easily before them. At last, the reason for his confidence was clear. His power was not arrogance—it was overwhelming reality.
"Let's go. What are you standing there for?" Su Li's calm voice snapped them from their stupor.
Nilu grit her teeth, chasing after him first. Peixue and Dondochakka stumbled after, their pale faces damp with sweat, legs trembling as though they might collapse at any moment.
Then, from deep within the rubble, a weak voice broke the silence. "Wait… wait a moment…"
Their steps faltered. Dust stirred. A battered figure slowly pulled himself from the debris, trembling yet unyielding. "Spin it, Storm Baron!" Dordoni roared, and a hurricane howled through the hall, scattering the dust and slamming against them like a tidal wave of wind. His body became a black shadow tearing across the floor, riding the gale.
"I said—this path is dead!"
Nilu screamed in terror, collapsing to her knees, tears and snot running freely. "Help!!" Peixue and Dondochakka fared no better, shrieking in panic as the whirlwind bore down. Yet as it struck, an arm rose calmly, barring the way.
The storm crashed upon that hand with a deafening boom, yet it did not budge. Dust and air raged, but the arm stood immovable. Dordoni's face drained of color. He had poured everything into that strike, yet the boy had stopped it with a single hand that did not shift so much as a hair's breadth.
It felt like kicking solid steel. Pain screamed up his leg, sharp and searing, as though he had struck a pillar of iron. No, even steel would have shattered beneath such force—yet this boy's body seemed to surpass it entirely.
Before Dordoni could comprehend the absurdity, the hand moved. With casual ease it shifted, palm pressing forward, closing the space in an instant. His eyes widened in horror. Then the world turned black.
Boom.
The palm slammed him into the ground, crushing stone into a crater. Blood sprayed into the air, cracks tore outward across the floor, and walls collapsed around them. When the dust finally fell, Dordoni lay in a pool of his own blood, broken and ruined, his eyes blank with despair.
Su Li crouched down, tilting his head. "Ah, now I remember who you are. The clownish one who once blocked Ichigo's path. The happy man." His tone carried amusement, though the others failed to understand his strange muttering.
Dordoni's blurred vision focused. Slowly, a trace of relief surfaced in his gaze. To cross blades with such an opponent, even only to be crushed, was enough. He had always sought the strong. This boy was strong beyond reason. For that, he felt a kind of satisfaction.
"You've defeated me…" His broken voice rasped. "I have no right to stand before you again. Go on."
There was no bitterness. He had lost, and he accepted it.
Su Li gave a small nod. "Thanks." He patted Dordoni's shoulder lightly before turning toward the central gate. Peixue and Dondochakka followed, bowing their heads with silent respect for the defeated warrior.
"Wait… wait a moment…" Nilu's small hand tugged at Su Li's sleeve. The group halted, puzzled. She walked over to the fallen Dordoni, bent forward, and opened her mouth wide.
"Hey! Hey! What are you doing?!" Dordoni cried in alarm. Su Li, Peixue, and Dondochakka looked on, dumbfounded.
Then a thick stream of saliva poured from Nilu's mouth, covering Dordoni's head and running across his body. He struggled in vain, too injured to resist, as she drenched him with her treatment. Within moments he was coated entirely, yet his struggles ceased—not because he had surrendered, but because he realized his wounds were healing. Her saliva carried restorative power.
When she was satisfied, Nilu clapped her hands, trotted back, and latched once again onto Su Li's sleeve, smiling innocently. Dordoni lay there, still drenched, caught between disbelief and awe.
Su Li, however, silently made a vow to himself. For the rest of his life, even if he were at death's door, he would never—ever—accept treatment from Nilu.
"Let's go." His tone was flat, and the four figures disappeared beyond the gate, leaving Dordoni sprawled in the wreckage behind them.
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