Chapter 180
Soi-Fon was incredibly fast, but every attempt to strike Barragan failed. Each time she was about to land a kick to his head, it felt as though her legs had sunk into mud. Her movements slowed more and more, and the harder she pushed forward, the heavier her body became. Eventually, the only option she had was to retreat as Barragan swung his axe toward her.
Her sharp eyes narrowed.
Is this spiritual pressure? She couldn't sense any tangible spiritual pressure pressing against her. Then what was it? Her movements themselves had become sluggish. Was it gravity manipulation? Or perhaps his ability acted directly on her muscles and nerves, forcing them to slow down?
"You still don't understand?" Barragan's voice was calm, even indulgent. "About my abilities?"
He did not immediately strike her down but instead continued to explain. "Because you can't judge what my powers are, hesitation clouds you, doesn't it? The Espada embody the ten forms of human death. And the aspect I represent is aging."
His voice deepened as if carrying the weight of inevitability itself. "To age is to be consumed by time. And time is the most powerful, absolute force in existence. None can escape it."
Soi-Fon's pupils narrowed with shock. "What...?" She couldn't help but react to the revelation.
"It's incomprehensible, isn't it? And this is only the beginning. From now until the end of this battle, you won't understand anything that happens. Now... Rot! Arrogante!"
Barragan flipped his massive axe downward and returned it to its sealed state. A torrent of pitch-black miasma erupted from his body like flames spilling over the battlefield. In the depths of that darkness, the hollow sockets of his eyes glowed like embers. His form transformed, revealing his true nature as the King of Hueco Mundo. A skeletal figure cloaked in death itself emerged. A golden crown rested upon his skull, engraved with intricate designs, and on his chest he bore a golden compass necklace, its chains binding to his bones. His physical appearance no longer resembled anything living-only a monarch of death remained.
Skull, crown, and the black aura of decay-this was Barragan Luisenbarn, the former ruler of Hueco Mundo, dethroned yet still filled with pride and resentment against Aizen Sōsuke, who had stripped him of his power.
"My ability is absolute," he declared coldly. "No one can overcome the power I wield."
The roof beneath his feet rapidly aged and crumbled into dust, disintegrating until nothing remained. Every surface near him eroded into nothingness, leaving only the skeletal king and the aura of decay that permeated the air.
"Respira!"
The deathly miasma spread outward like a tide. Everything it touched-stone, steel, and soil-eroded instantly into fragments of dust. Soi-Fon and Őmaeda Marechiyo moved quickly to escape the spreading wave of death. But the black aura caught her left fingertips for only a moment before she pulled herself away. That brief contact was enough. Decay spread from her fingertips across her arm with terrifying speed. Her hand withered into exposed bone instantly, and if it continued, her entire body would collapse into a skeleton.
"Ŏmaeda! Cut off my arm!" she ordered sharply.
"B-but... Captain-" Marechiyo stammered, his face pale with panic.
"Do you want me to die?" she hissed at him with urgency.
Grinding his teeth, Ŏmaeda obeyed with trembling hands. His blade severed her arm cleanly. The severed limb hit the ground and immediately decayed into dust and bone. The sight drove home the reality of Barragan's ability-death and aging, the most primal fears of mankind made manifest in his aura alone.
"Heh... who would have expected a Shinigami to fear death so much," Barragan mocked with a hollow laugh.
Ŏmaeda turned pale again when Soi-Fon spoke next with a calm expression. "Ŏmaeda, act as bait."
"Wh-what?" He froze in disbelief at her words.
Her tone remained steady. "I've already thought of a method to counter this ability... but I need time to prepare it."
Ŏmaeda's face crumpled with despair. "Captain...! You're asking too much!"
"Keep your right arm protected at all costs," she warned him flatly. "It's your only chance of survival if you're touched by that aura again."
Before he could reply, Barragan's deep voice cut through the air behind him. "Since you won't approach me... I'll come to you." The skeletal monarch materialized behind Ŏmaeda in an instant.
Terrified, Ŏmaeda spun on his heel and bolted, shouting incoherently as he fled. "Oooooohhh! No no no no no!"
Barragan sneered. "For such useless flesh, you can at least run quickly."
Ŏmaeda, fueled by desperation, released his Zanpakutō and smashed the surrounding walls into rubble, hoping to slow the skeletal Espada. Yet the stones aged instantly when they neared Barragan, crumbling into dust before they touched him. His eyes widened in horror as he saw even solid debris unable to resist.
"It's... it's over!" he gasped, nearly breathless. "It's really over...!"
Frantically, he tried to think of alternatives. "Maybe... kidō! Binding Way No. 21: Red Smoke Escape!"
Ŏmaeda clapped his hands together, generating a burst of smoke that billowed outward as cover. He turned to run again, muttering miserably to himself. "This is hopeless... I've never even practiced kidō properly..."
Barragan lifted his axe again, now transformed. "Enough of this. Gran Caída!" His massive weapon glowed with an aura of annihilation, its chained form whirling like a massive executioner's tool. "For an insect like you, even this is too great an honor."
Ŏmaeda froze at the sight, realizing the sheer force behind Barragan's weapon. The skeletal Espada raised it high, his voice final. "You... will die here."
In that moment, another voice rang clear across the battlefield. "Bankai... Jakuhō Raikōben!"
(T/n: she giving good old brook the sabo treatment.)
Barragan turned his head. Across the rooftop, Soi-Fon stood with her right arm encased in a massive piece of armor that resembled a launcher. At its core was an enormous missile, nearly twice her height. The strain of wielding it was evident as her muscles strained and her expression tightened, veins visible on her face from the exertion. Even so, she raised it with steady determination.
"If I can avoid it, I would rather not use this Bankai," she admitted grimly. "It is too large to hide, too heavy to wield freely. All of it goes against the principles of stealth and mobility that I embody. To call it an assassination technique is an exaggeration."
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