In that moment, both Lucian Vale and Shiryu of the Rain had shed their smiles.
As their gazes locked, an invisible weight pressed down on the space between them—an aura that could only be born from true killers.
But the tension didn't last long. Within ten seconds, Shiryu's presence was completely swallowed by Lucian's overwhelming pressure.
"I knew it… you really are a monster," Shiryu said, his eyes flashing with a dangerous gleam.
"You're right," Lucian replied evenly. "But I was wrong."
"I thought you might give me a little pressure—just a spark of excitement. Unfortunately…"
His eyes narrowed. "You can't."
Lucian sighed quietly.
After fully merging with Aizen's inheritance, his strength had grown continuously, the Hōgyoku refining his power endlessly through the decades of slumber. Ordinary swordsmen no longer stirred even a flicker of his fighting spirit.
Perhaps only Garp and Sengoku, together, might make him feel something again.
"Hahahaha! This sword is called Raindrop," Shiryu laughed, drawing his blade in a single smooth motion. The weapon gleamed with a wet, deadly light as he saluted Lucian.
"Remember it well," Lucian said, raising his Zanpakutō. "Kyōka Suigetsu. You won't get a second chance."
With a faint movement of his wrist, he swung.
A roar of pressure tore through the air, slicing forward like a dragon breaking the surface of the sea.
"So strong…" Shiryu muttered, eyes wide, but he didn't back down.
He tightened his grip on Raindrop and lunged, unleashing a murderous slash of his own.
Boom!
The collision of sword pressure sent shockwaves echoing through the Eternal Hell.
For the first time, Shiryu's composure cracked.
He had always believed that the sharpest sword was the strongest shield—that nothing could stand before overwhelming offense.
But reality struck like a thunderclap.
The twin slashes collided—and Shiryu's attack lasted only an instant before it was completely devoured.
Lucian's energy didn't falter; it surged forward, endless and merciless.
"Damn it… how can a casual strike be this strong?! This power—it's on the level of the Great Swordsmen! But I won't accept defeat!"
"One-Sword Style — Blood Rage!"
Shiryu roared, veins bulging as he poured his life into the swing. His palms split open, blood streaming down Raindrop's edge as he released a crimson arc ten meters wide.
Boom!
The explosion split the floor apart, carving a deep ravine into the seemingly indestructible stone of the Eternal Hell.
The red sword wave collided with Lucian's strike. The impact detonated like a bomb.
Sword energy blasted outward in all directions, shredding everything within reach.
Within seconds, the ground around them for nearly three thousand meters was sliced and gouged as if plowed by divine blades.
"Pointless resistance," Lucian said calmly, lowering his sword. "From the moment you challenged me, you should have prepared yourself for death."
Shiryu's face twisted. His hands trembled violently, blood dripping from his knuckles onto the hilt.
He understood now.
He wasn't just outmatched—he was utterly outclassed.
It had taken every drop of his strength to block a single casual strike.
"I admit it," Shiryu rasped. "I'm not your match. But if you want to kill me, you'll pay a price for it!"
Lucian chuckled. Then, to Shiryu's disbelief, he laughed harder—until tears nearly welled in his eyes.
"Shiryu of the Rain… you overestimate yourself," Lucian said, shaking his head. "Should I call you stupid—or praise your courage? I can't decide."
"Hmph! Aren't you being a bit too confident?" Shiryu spat, fury igniting in his gaze.
"Wrong," Lucian said softly. "This isn't confidence."
He took a step forward, his voice calm, almost playful.
"If I wanted to kill you, it would be as easy as reaching into my pocket."
He raised his sword. "For example… like this."
"Light-Form Movement."
Lucian's body dissolved into a scatter of shining motes. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared behind Shiryu.
The cold edge of Kyōka Suigetsu rested against the man's throat.
A single twitch, and Shiryu's head would be gone.
"You… you're a Logia user?" Shiryu whispered, his voice trembling.
For the first time, true fear colored his face. He could feel death's breath on his skin.
"Devil Fruits?" Lucian asked quietly. "In your world, they're treasures. In mine…"
He leaned in slightly, voice filled with disdain. "They're trash—burdens, not blessings."
Shiryu froze, speechless.
In a world where Devil Fruits were called miracles of the sea—where Admirals, Emperors, and legends drew their strength from them—this man called them worthless.
The thought was absurd. Impossible. Yet the proof stood right before him.
"To lose to a monster like you… I have no right to complain," Shiryu muttered bitterly. "Go ahead. Kill me."
He knew the truth. Against this man, there was no chance—no escape, no glory, no meaning.
Lucian smiled faintly.
"No, no, no…" he said lightly. "I've changed my mind."
"You like killing, don't you? Then go on—kill. Break free. Spill blood. Cause chaos."
He burst into laughter, low and dark.
Shiryu blinked. His expression shifted from confusion to disbelief.
"You're… not going to kill me?"
Lucian's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Free every prisoner from the first five levels. That's the price for your life."
He turned away. "Today, I'll turn this entire prison upside down. Go."
Shiryu hesitated for half a heartbeat—then, seeing the faintest flicker of impatience in Lucian's eyes, he turned and bolted like a wild beast.
Before death, pride was meaningless.
Lucian watched him run, a crooked smile curving his lips.
"Sengoku… Garp…" he murmured.
"I hope you'll enjoy this little gift I'm preparing."
He tilted his head back slightly, his laughter echoing through the dark, blood-soaked corridor.
"I, for one, find it absolutely delightful. Hahahahaha…"
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