Thirty years ago, after the aftermath of the hunting incident, two captains in Soul Society died.
Before the gathered captains, the former First Division third seat, Maki Kurando, succeeded to the Tenth Division captaincy.
Kurando had only been a third seat because he'd stayed in the First Division so long without chances to stand out. Leaving the First's captain aside, even the vice-captain Chōjirō had mastered Bankai (Final Release) centuries ago—a ruthless man. Breaking out under the two of them was no easy feat.
Now, carrying out an order from the Captain-Commander, Kurando assigned all patrol duties tonight to his division's seated officers and kept watch alone at the Tenth's barracks, guarding against the "unexpected" the Captain-Commander warned of.
He'd thought the Captain-Commander was worrying too much—until that sudden, massive Reiatsu (Spiritual Pressure) and explosion made him realize the worst-case scenario had appeared after all.
Without hesitation he used Shunpo (Flash Step) toward the nobles' district where the blast had erupted.
Halfway there, the battle intuition he'd honed over years suddenly screamed a warning.
Boom!
The ground caved; a massive black coffin thrust up from below.
"What?! Kurohitsugi (Black Coffin)?!"
Kurando hadn't sensed a hint of Reiatsu nearby beforehand—where had this Kurohitsugi come from?
No one was going to answer him. Darkness swallowed. Terror gnawed.
Far away, Shuuichi reached an empty compound near the Kasumiooji estate. Inside a pre-laid, reinforced Reiatsu-concealment field, his deep-crimson coat snapped in the air; his Zanpakutō was already at Bankai (Final Release).
"Symbols seeping with turbidity, a wild, arrogant talent; tides surge—negation—paralysis—instant—hindering sleep. Creeping iron princess, clay doll who wounds itself—combine, rebound, extend to the ground—know your own powerlessness! Hadō no 90: Kurohitsugi (Black Coffin)!"
A full incantation release.
Guided by anchor points Shuuichi had prepared, the strike landed true!
Then—
"Awaken, my soldier—borrow the corpse, return the soul!"
The reishi construct he'd set aside winked out.
On the other side, the Kurohitsugi shattered.
Kurando wasn't some cheat like Ichigo who could cleave Kurohitsugi with one hand, nor was he frail like some Kashiwamura type to be one-shot by it. With Reiatsu surpassing Shuuichi's current output, he was drenched in blood yet fiercer than before.
"So you're the one who launched the ambush?!"
Kurando stared at the treant-shaped unknown entity before him, baffled.
What was this thing? How had he never even heard of it?
Shuuichi had no habit of explaining his ability mid-fight. His only reply was a chill offensive.
Charge. Slash!
At Shuuichi's thought, the treant whipped its apparently brittle branch-arm and lunged at Kurando.
A swing down; a catch up.
Man and "tree" were evenly matched.
"The wood is just a façade!"
In an instant of exchanges, Kurando grasped the essence—the "treant" was a mass of compressed Reiatsu under someone's control!
Shuuichi had no intention of leaving him time to think.
"Carriage of thunder, bridge of spinning wheel—divide this light into six! Bakudō no 61: Rikujōkōrō (Six Rods Light Prison)!"
Another full incantation. Fighting without spatial restraints gave Shuuichi one great convenience: he could chant to the end, unrestrained.
Six light plates flared around Kurando and froze him midair.
"That bizarre, warning-less kidō again!"
Kurando had no way to dodge.
"Then, next—"
Through a reishi construct's sight, Shuuichi saw Kurando locked tight by Rikujōkōrō.
His expression chilled. He began an incantation—and on the other side, the construct raised its left arm.
"Hands beyond counting, august hands that cannot touch the silent dark, celestial archer that cannot be mirrored; road where radiance falls, wind that fans the spark; gather and assemble without doubt; obey my command! Light shells—eight bodies—nine paths—canon—swift treasure—great wheel! Grey turret, draw and loose afar—fade in pristine light!
Hadō no 91: Senjū Kōten Taihō (Thousand-Hand Bright Heaven Culling Art), twin-pattern!"
Two identical Senjū Kōten Taihō fired at once—one fully chanted, one cast without chant.
Layered through anchor points, the result was far beyond one plus one.
A summons from Hell itself.
A deluge of beams hammered Kurando; the spreading blast flipped streets for a full kilometer behind him.
In midair, the treant fell—its previous construct had burned itself out to cast that kidō.
Before it hit the ground, a brand-new reishi construct crawled into the shed skin and revived.
The technique could be stronger, but with Shuuichi's current capacity he could only craft constructs of this level; one unchanted Senjū Kōten Taihō was their limit.
"Dead?"
Dust surged ahead in a vast cloud. Away from the scene, Shuuichi couldn't sense Kurando's Reiatsu through the construct—the link shared sight, nothing more.
He hadn't held back at all. Based on tests in Hueco Mundo, someone like Kensei shouldn't have been able to withstand that.
So if Kurando was a "water-weight" captain, tonight's task would be done.
Reality said otherwise: Kurando was far from ordinary.
In the construct's view, a man strode out of the ash—shihakushō nearly ruined, a gaping hole punched through his abdomen, limbs and body cross-hatched with wreckage.
Half his face was burned away, white bone exposed—but even at this distance, Shuuichi felt a shiver.
In Kurando's pupils was nothing but killing intent steeped in death.
"Greed! Roar! Envy! Wail! Rave! Hound of Hell—descend at this moment!
Bankai! Akki Tenshin (Evil Ghosts Enshrouding)!"
A towering shockwave blew outward; the ground sank; the sky sheared. From the void crashed five glowing chains, red-hot, driving into Kurando's four limbs and skull.
"Our battle has only just begun!"
Kurando laughed like a madman, as if a devil had returned from Hell.
The wounds Shuuichi had dealt him were like his battle honors.
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