Tōshirō Hitsugaya narrowed his eyes as he stood before the two enemies, his youthful face hardened into a serious expression.
"This pressure… there's no mistake," he muttered coldly. "These are true Arrancar. And this reiatsu… it's on a completely different level than a Gillian."
Fortunately, Amamiya Miyako had immediately requested permission from Soul Society to lift their combat restrictions the moment the report came through. If they had still been sealed under the limiters, none of them would have stood a chance against the two Hollows standing before them.
"Ulquiorra! That brat with the bow—he's mine!" Yammy growled, pointing a thick finger toward Miyako. His huge frame radiated killing intent. He wasn't thinking of strategy, only of tearing Miyako apart for daring to injure him earlier.
"If you want to pass here," Ikkaku Madarame shouted, grinning wildly despite the danger, "you'll have to take me down first! Extend—Hōzukimaru!" His spear-like zanpakutō shot out with a clang.
"Don't butt in! I'll take this guy myself! I want to see just how strong an Arrancar must be to beat Ichigo down like that!"
The others frowned at Ikkaku's rashness, but none stopped him. They knew his reckless spirit and silently agreed to let him test Yammy's strength.
Miyako, however, exhaled softly, his tone resigned. "Yare yare… even now, he won't reveal his Bankai with so many people watching. Against this monster, he doesn't stand a chance."
Ulquiorra remained silent nearby, arms folded across his chest. He had no intention of interfering. Yammy's power was more than enough to crush an ordinary Shinigami.
"Arrancar," Hitsugaya called sharply, his icy gaze fixed on Ulquiorra, "what business do you have in Karakura Town?"
Ulquiorra's expression didn't waver. His voice was calm, detached. "Our purpose? It matters little whether you know. In any case, this operation is already a success. Kurosaki Ichigo… Aizen-sama has taken a slight interest in him."
"Tch. So it really is Ichigo you're after…" Hitsugaya's eyes flicked toward Ichigo, lying injured nearby. His chest tightened with grim understanding.
Before he could press further, a deafening crash rang out. Ikkaku's body came hurtling back, slamming into the ground and carving a crater into the street. Blood dripped from his mouth as he clutched his shattered Hōzukimaru. His body was covered in cuts, bruises, and burns.
"Ggh… damn it… this bastard… he's way too strong," Ikkaku coughed, spitting blood onto the dirt.
"Ikkaku!" His comrades shouted.
"Hmph. Pathetic. I thought he'd amount to something, but he's nothing but trash," Yammy sneered. He stomped forward, barely scratched from the clash. Even with only one arm, his overwhelming strength had crushed Ikkaku with ease.
Miyako's brow furrowed. "Still clinging to that ridiculous habit… nearly dead and he still refuses to expose his Bankai." He clenched his blades tighter.
Yammy turned, glaring at Miyako with rage burning in his eyes. "Next is you, brat! I'll crush you into dust for that sneak attack!"
"Captain Hitsugaya," Miyako said evenly, his voice calm but resolute, "don't move. Keep your eyes on the quiet one. I'll take care of the big guy."
Hitsugaya gave a short nod. "Understood. Ulquiorra is the true danger here… I'll trust you to handle him."
Miyako lifted his dual zanpakutō, his voice cutting through the air with authority. "Resound—Kōjin Zetsun!"
The twin blades gleamed as they shifted into their full Shikai form. Against Yammy, Miyako intended to test his hierro head-on.
He knew Ulquiorra would report everything to Aizen, but even then, no one would truly understand the true ability of his zanpakutō. Not unless he revealed it all—and he still had techniques hidden away.
"Tch. You'll end up the same as the bald one," Yammy growled.
Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed slightly. Aizen had mentioned Amamiya Miyako specifically. This was the perfect chance to gauge his true ability.
Yammy's massive fist suddenly slammed down where Miyako had stood, cracking the street into a crater. Dust flew up everywhere.
But Miyako's voice rang out above it. "Carriage of thunder, bridge of spinning wheel. With light, divide this from six directions! Bakudō #61: Rikujōkōrō!"
Six pillars of golden light shot forth, slamming into Yammy and locking his massive body in place.
Miyako darted forward, both blades flashing as he slashed across Yammy's torso.
"Grrraaahh!!" Yammy roared, his brute strength shattering the kido in seconds. But in that brief instant, Miyako's blades carved two long cuts across his chest.
"What…!?" Yammy staggered back, clutching the wounds. His eyes widened with disbelief. Pain rippled through his body.
Ulquiorra's calm expression twitched ever so slightly.
"Impossible… my hierro…" Yammy snarled. His skin was supposed to be harder than steel, his reiatsu forming an armor no Shinigami's blade could pierce.
Miyako took a step back, his tone quiet and cutting. "You're wondering why my blades cut through your hierro so easily, aren't you?"
His twin zanpakutō glimmered with faint light.
When Kojin Zetsun grazed against Yammy's skin, the technique forcibly rejected and stripped away the spiritual pressure that coated his body.
The Arrancar's Hierro, after all, was nothing more than condensed spiritual pressure hardened over the skin. It did not mean Yammy's flesh itself was invulnerable. To Amamiya Miyako, any barrier formed of reiryoku was nothing more than empty glass.
"Brat…" Yammy snarled, his massive frame shaking with rage as he charged again, his single arm raised to crush the Shinigami before him.
Ulquiorra, standing not far away, narrowed his eyes. Yammy's Hierro was not something that should be broken so easily.
Amamiya Miyako… Aizen-sama mentioned this man. Even Aizen-sama himself has not completely grasped the true nature of that Zanpakutō. Could it be… his unique ability is what's cutting through Yammy's defense?
Yammy swiped with his palm, trying to grab Miyako, but the young Shinigami's sharper physique and blinding speed left him untouched. Miyako's twin blades left deep cuts across Yammy's chest and arms, each strike carving open flesh. Not once did Yammy manage to catch him.
"Damn brat, you're pissing me off!" Yammy roared.
He opened his mouth wide, gathering a torrent of crimson spiritual power. The energy condensed and swirled violently—forming a devastating Cero.
"Tch…" Miyako's sharp eyes caught it instantly. He connected his twin Zanpakutō once again, the blades sliding back into their bow form. With a flash of movement, he leapt backwards and fired a single glowing arrow straight into Yammy's charging Cero.
The blast detonated.
The collision ripped apart the air with a thunderous crack. Yammy shielded himself with his Hierro, but the explosion tore through his defense all the same. His face was scorched, blood trickling down the torn flesh of his cheek.
"BRAT!!" Yammy's furious bellow echoed across the battlefield. His eyes, now bloodshot with rage, locked onto Miyako as he charged once more.
From a distance, Hitsugaya Tōshirō exhaled lightly, his icy eyes watching the fight. "Switching between dual blades and a bow… what an unpredictable style," he muttered.
Ulquiorra's gaze followed Yammy closely, his thoughts calculating. Yammy's greatest flaw… his Sonido is too slow. If the enemy notices, it leaves him wide open. And with Amamiya Miyako's strange ability piercing through his Hierro… Yammy won't win. Unless… he releases his Zanpakutō and uses his Resurrección.
Miyako himself had already realized the same. Yammy's Hierro was thick, his strength immense—but speed was lacking. Large enemies like Yammy always carried one fatal weakness: they could never defend their blind spots.
"Hmph. Too easy." Miyako whispered under his breath, pulling back another arrow. This time, the arrow was slimmer, sharper, infused with a different kind of energy.
'Let's test this.'
What he unleashed now was a re-forging of Shinya Zetsunen—a technique focused on concentrating The Refuse's rejection power into the very tip of his arrow.
Yammy, in his blind fury, ignored the glowing arrow entirely and lunged forward, convinced only Miyako's Zanpakutō could truly injure him.
That arrogance cost him.
The arrow pierced straight through Yammy's palm, tore through muscle, and then exited from his side in a burst of blood.
"Guahhh!" Yammy howled, clutching his ruined hand as he staggered. The pain forced him to stop mid-charge.
"You damn brat… what the hell did you do to me?!" His massive body trembled as his remaining hand reached toward the Zanpakutō at his waist, intent on drawing it.
But Ulquiorra appeared before him in a single blur of Sonido, his cold eyes glancing at Yammy. With a sharp strike of his hand like a blade, he pressed it against Yammy's stomach.
"That's enough, Yammy."
Ulquiorra's tone was calm, low, yet cutting like steel. "Our objective is complete. Do not waste strength fighting a Shinigami here. To release your Zanpakutō now would expose too much. It is not yet time."
Yammy froze, grinding his teeth, his bloodied face twisted with anger but unable to move against Ulquiorra's cold authority.
"Running away, Arrancar?" Hitsugaya called out, his expression stern.
Ulquiorra's gaze slid toward him, indifferent and sharp. "Running? Hmph… do you intend to protect those injured weaklings while also fighting me?"
Hitsugaya's eyes flicked toward the battered figures of Kurosaki Ichigo and his comrades lying wounded nearby. He clenched his jaw. As much as he wanted to strike, he knew the truth—this was not the time.
Ulquiorra's expression didn't change as he continued, his voice flat as ever. "You're wise enough to understand, Hitsugaya-taichō. Our mission here is done. The Shinigami that Aizen-sama was curious about…" His eyes turned briefly to Ichigo's trembling form. "…is nothing more than trash."
Ichigo's eyes widened, his body tensing. His fists clenched so tightly they trembled, veins bulging as Ulquiorra's words struck his pride like a blade.
"You… bastard…" he growled through gritted teeth, his reiatsu flickering violently around him.
Miyako's sharp eyes didn't leave Ulquiorra either. Unlike Yammy, this one… this cold Arrancar radiated a pressure that was suffocating. His instincts whispered that Ulquiorra was the real danger here.