Cole didn't dare stop. To escape, he even dumped fifty thousand points into shunpo.
His body blurred into pure shadow, flickering like light itself.
Ikkaku and Yumichika could only gape at the afterimages he left behind.
"Ikkaku… which squad is that guy from again?" Yumichika muttered.
Ikkaku gritted his teeth. "Don't tell me you think he's actually a member of the Gotei 13!?"
"Of course not. What squad shinigami would dare raise their blade against captains? He's a ryoka — and a terrifyingly strong one."
Ikkaku's eyes widened. "So… we were saved by a ryoka?"
That thought made his feelings twist. Squad 11 feared no death. But owing a debt? To an invader? That was worse.
Before they could dwell on it, a silver flash tore the sky.
With a deafening crack, a slash carved through the Tenth Division's barracks, a gash stretching hundreds of meters.
Both men fell silent, drenched in cold sweat.
Far ahead, Unohana pursued Cole relentlessly, her blade scattering streaks of silver light.
"Stop! You have such kendo, why run? Don't you crave battle? Don't you want to defeat me!?"
But Cole's path was clear. He hacked apart buildings as he fled, carving his own road through the Seireitei.
Unohana, centuries a healer, balked at such wanton destruction. Her chase faltered.
Just then, Tōsen arrived, frowning at the wreckage and Kenpachi lying in blood.
"Even Zaraki couldn't stop him?" He turned to Unohana. "Why didn't you release bankai and stall him until I arrived?"
Unohana's gaze cut cold as steel. "And you think you could stop him?"
Her blade flickered once.
A silver arc.
Blood blossomed from Tōsen's chest as he staggered back, stunned. "Impossible…"
She sheathed her blade and walked toward Kenpachi, her face softening once more.
"Ikkaku. Yumichika."
The two straightened at once, chills running down their spines.
"Yes, Captain!"
"You're treating him wrong. His wounds aren't deep, but they are many. Heal him fully."
They exchanged a look. Who do you think carved those wounds!? But wisely stayed silent.
Behind them, Tōsen trembled. That single cut — he hadn't even seen it fall. This woman was more terrifying than Zaraki.
Unohana drew her zanpakuto. Without even an incantation, a massive green manta-ray-like creature with a single eye appeared in the sky.
"Minazuki. Heal him."
The beast swallowed Kenpachi whole, then spat him back out moments later. His wounds were gone, only his pale face showing the blood loss.
Ikkaku and Yumichika hurried to drag him away.
Unohana's gaze fell back to Tōsen. "Captain Tōsen, let me treat you as well."
Her smile was gentle. But her eyes glimmered with danger.
Tōsen swallowed his protest. "…Very well."
From afar, Kyōraku sighed. "Fool. He doesn't know when to retreat." He had arrived earlier, but stopped short the moment he saw Unohana's killing aura.
No one sane would provoke the demon of centuries past.
Gin smiled thinly. "Well, Captain Tōsen is blind. He sees only reiatsu threads. How could he read her face?"
Kyōraku grimaced. "Then why didn't you stop him?"
Gin shrugged. "Why didn't you?"
Byakuya said nothing. His eyes followed Cole's vanishing form.
"That man… has grown stronger again."
He turned on his heel and left without another word.
Kyōraku's brow furrowed. Stronger… in mere hours? Even he felt dread of Cole's shunpo and kendo.
"Headache… if the old man gets involved, none of us will be able to contain this."
Gin lingered, musing. Cole had fought differently at the White Road Gate. His kendo then was crude. Now? Terrifying mastery.
"Learned in just hours? That's absurd. Unless… he's the one Aizen really wants, not Kurosaki Ichigo…"
His grin widened, eyes gleaming. "How interesting…" Then he vanished.
Hours later, the Seireitei boiled with rumors.
"The ryoka defeated Captain Komamura!?"
"With just shikai?"
"He injured him even in bankai!?"
"That's old news," one whispered smugly. "He invaded Squad 11 and beat Captain Zaraki."
"What!?"
Gasps rippled. Zaraki — the strongest Kenpachi, leader of the battle-hungry Eleventh. Said to rank top three among all captains.
"You sure?"
"I'm Squad Four. Komamura's still bedridden, Zaraki's choking down blood-replenishing medicine."
Shock turned to dread. Until another voice spoke, calm and certain:
"It doesn't matter. The Head Captain has released his reiatsu."
A hush fell.
The oldest shinigami alive. The strongest in a thousand years.
Relief spread. "Then the ryoka is finished. No matter how strong, against the Head Captain, he's nothing!"
But on a rooftop, a black-haired youth bit a blade of grass and sighed.
"Overkill. Kurosaki made plenty of messes in the original, and Yamamoto never moved. Why me…?"
Cole had wanted to keep devouring reishi. But the oppressive heat blanketing the Seireitei made him freeze. Subtle, yet searing — Yamamoto's spiritual web. One wrong move, and he'd be caught.
So he leapt away — and grinned.
High in the air, he hurled the Hōgyoku upward, raised his golden staff, and swung.
"Home run!!!"
The orb screamed through the sky like a comet, its blue light tearing the heavens. The pressure alone left Cole's hands numb.
He whistled. "No wonder Kisuke never destroyed it. Too damn tough. Even at my full strength, I can't crack it."
The Hōgyoku blazed on, untouched, unbroken.
(End of Chapter)
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