Chapter 59: The Revenant of the Old Era and the Sun of the New Era
Even with Captain-Commander Yamamoto's iron-clad temperament, his heart was currently a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
He could accept Ikkotsu and Sōkotsu being copied. Though these body techniques were powerful, their principles were not overly complex; they emphasized the compression and mastery of spiritual energy. Similar techniques existed throughout the Soul Society, and many could develop comparable skills through self-study, differing only in depth.
But Yamamoto's Shunpo—while still Shunpo at its base—was a technique he had honed over two thousand years. It was forged through countless life-and-death wars, exhausting both his wisdom and effort. It had long transcended the standard definition of Shunpo, becoming a unique "Assault-Assassination Footwork" saturated with his personal style.
The technical requirements were astronomical. It involved reading the enemy's psychological and visual blind spots, precise movement paths, and the exact posture and angle of attack upon landing. To have all of that perfectly replicated by Ichigo Kurosaki after seeing it once... how could Yamamoto not feel conflicted?
In his youth, Yamamoto believed his talent was peerless. Why else would he found a school and push his own philosophy? The fact that he later carved out an entire era with a single blade and a few followers verified that his self-perception was correct.
But now, looking at Ichigo, Yamamoto for the first time doubted whether his talent was as high as he imagined. He had never possessed the "World-Shaking Wisdom" required to learn an enemy's ultimate pride in a single glance.
Despite the thoughts causing a momentary distraction, his overwhelming combat experience allowed him to instinctively counter.
"Hmph. Using my own techniques against me? Foolish!"
Yamamoto knew better than anyone how to counter himself. The path to perfecting a technique requires breaking and rebuilding it repeatedly. Over a millennium, he had polished away every obvious flaw in his moves.
With a turn of the blade, Ryūjin Jakka belched forth immeasurable fire. The majestic flames transformed into a towering fire tornado, spinning rapidly with Yamamoto as the eye of the storm.
"Taimatsu (Torch)!"
Within this fiery hurricane, everything except Yamamoto himself was destined to be incinerated!
But in the next instant, the old man's eyes snapped wide. Ichigo's silhouette vanished and reappeared. A hand, fingers calmly extended, reached out and gripped Yamamoto's face!
Yamamoto could not comprehend what had happened. Ichigo hadn't just appeared in his psychological and visual blind spot—he had appeared in the "blind spot" of the fire tornado itself!
The problem was, Yamamoto didn't understand how a 360-degree storm that covered even the sky could have a blind spot.
For the first time, the greatest tactician and master of assassination in the Soul Society encountered something utterly incomprehensible. Then, he remembered the words of the "Yhwach-like phantom" speaking through Ichigo.
Stimulated by death, Ichigo Kurosaki has evolved once more!
Evolution was one thing, but evolving from an "understandable human" to an "incomprehensible non-human" was perhaps taking it too far.
Yamamoto's thoughts were cut short. Ichigo hadn't just mastered his Shunpo; he had also mastered "Iminari" (Majestic Sleep)—the technique of using infinitesimal spiritual power to snuff out an opponent's consciousness—and was using it right now!
Time seemed to slow. In Yamamoto's darkening vision, the last thing he saw was Ichigo's face, hidden behind the white bone mask. He couldn't see the boy's expression, but those eyes were radiant!
Black sclera and gold pupils. The gaze was steady, resolute, pure, and powerful—filled with infinite joy. A joy born from the strength of his enemy, his own growth, and the very occurrence of this battle...
The fire tornado was torn asunder. Two figures shot out. To the disbelief of every spectator, Ichigo held Yamamoto by the head, pinning him to the ground as he sprinted forward with reckless abandon.
The earth cracked. Deep trenches were carved into the ground. No building or wall along the way could hope to obstruct them. Ichigo dragged the Commander through the streets, slamming him straight into the Main Hall of the 1st Division—the very place where the Captains held their meetings.
With a thunderous crash, Yamamoto was embedded into the wall. Then, Ichigo coiled his elbow, gathered his strength, and unleashed an indescribable Sōkotsu heavy punch!
The wall was punched through. The residual shockwave vibrated through the entire structure, leaving the hall wobbling on its foundations.
This scene symbolized more than a fight; the supreme authority of the Soul Society had truly begun to shake.
Watching from afar, Aizen saw this reversal of roles. He instinctively touched the Kyoka Suigetsu at his waist. Finding nothing amiss, he removed his glasses, polished them, and put them back on. His tone remained calm, though his eyes betrayed his confusion:
"Truly my best work... no, my best friend. That posture is so potent it's unbelievable—incomprehensible, even. It seems the power of 'Purity' is indeed worth studying."
Aizen wasn't the only one stunned. Everyone watching was in disbelief. The power Yamamoto had displayed earlier was worthy of the strongest Soul Reaper; that made the sight of him being "rubbed into the dirt" by Ichigo all the more impossible.
"Before Shikai, the Commander could suppress Ichigo. After Shikai, he's being suppressed? Does Ryūjin Jakka have a weakness?" Soi Fon asked, bewildered.
Yoruichi frowned. "The only weakness of Ryūjin Jakka is that it's too strong. Beyond that, it has none. Yet... this truly doesn't make sense."
The spectators were lost in doubt. Only the Gaze from beyond the heavens truly knew the truth.
Mo Yu was not surprised by Ichigo's performance. Ichigo was the naturally divine Messiah, born with the world's blessing to sever the eons of karma. His existence and his path were miracles in themselves. Even without conceptual meaning, Ichigo's raw power had never been "weak."
In the original story, Ichigo's peak moments—cutting Yhwach with basic strikes, the Mugetsu that slashed Aizen, the Vasto Lorde that mauled Ulquiorra—were all legendary. But the most iconic was his Bankai battle against Byakuya.
In that fight, Ichigo had just learned Bankai. He moved at speeds Byakuya couldn't track just by running. He could deflect millions of flower petals with a casual swing. It was an incomprehensible display of absolute power. Byakuya could only rationalize it by assuming Ichigo's Bankai compressed his Reiatsu to make super-speed combat a baseline state.
But was that truly Ichigo's Bankai?
That battle also exposed Ichigo's greatest weakness: his Bankai lasted less than five minutes before his body began to fail, forcing "White" to intervene. Why? Because Old Man Zangetsu was suppressing Ichigo's too-vast-to-control power, manually capping the Bankai's intensity to save the boy's life.
Mo Yu believed the power Ichigo showed during his Mugetsu strike against Aizen was his true Bankai—an absolute speed and power that even a Hogyoku-fused Aizen couldn't understand.
But that was the original Ichigo. In this World Bubble, under God's interference, Ichigo had taken a different path. The Hollow side, "White," had been completely subdued—it was now a loyal mount terrified of being called out to take a beating. Old Man Zangetsu no longer needed to suppress or manually regulate Ichigo's divine power.
How strong Ichigo was now depended solely on how strong he wanted to be!
Ichigo was a polite young man. Having returned everything Yamamoto had given him at the start of the fight, he stopped. Like the Commander at the beginning, he stood there, watching and waiting.
The dust was incinerated by searing heat as Yamamoto's tall frame slowly rose. Their gazes collided violently.
"Kurosaki Ichigo... everything you wished to say, everything you wished to exchange... I have truly felt it. I have heard it."
Unexpectedly, Yamamoto's tone was peaceful. His eyes had returned from savage violence to a calm indifference. But internally, his mind was racing. Through the exchange of fists, he had truly felt Ichigo's essence.
That heartfelt kindness was radiant. His battle intent was pure—intoxicated by combat but never controlled by it. He marched toward the Strongest only to protect what he loved. Even with a demon mask and lethal techniques, Ichigo's attacks held zero killing intent.
As Ichigo said, this was an exchange. Two powerhouses using fists as language to speak their will.
But facing Ichigo made Yamamoto think of himself.
In the era of tribulation when Nobles slaughtered each other, he had entered the fray with a hidden gentleness and a noble conviction. He fought the era. But in the end, he killed his enemies—and his enemies killed everything he once was.
His eyes grew cold and mad. His methods became ruthless. It was a necessary outcome, he told himself. He could kill anyone or compromise with anyone as long as he won. Eventually, he became the "Ghost"—the strongest and most terrifying man in the Soul Society, feared even by the Nobles.
The victory arrived. The new era came. The "Ghost" was sealed in a portrait, and he became a benevolent-looking old man. But it was a facade. His core conviction remained unchanged for a thousand years. He turned a blind eye to the Nobles' crimes, balanced interests in compromise, and slaughtered anyone who threatened the Order—even Rukongai commoners.
He was still that ghost who would use any means for victory. The "Victory" had just evolved into the current "Order."
But looking at Ichigo, he couldn't help but wonder: What if I hadn't been changed by the evil karma of a sea of corpses? What if I had been more resolute on my path to the Strongest and refused to compromise? What would today look like?
It was a question without an answer. Yamamoto did not regret his past, but in Ichigo, he saw a vision of another "self." A self in a different era of calamity who possessed the Purity he failed to maintain and the kindness he long ago discarded—a self swinging the strongest fist to beat the world into realizing his will!
Was that a weaker self, or a more perfect one? Yamamoto didn't know and didn't care to investigate. A thousand thoughts surfaced and faded, settling into a single resolve. He looked at Ichigo and spoke flatly:
"To save the world, you were willing to risk your life beating me just to deliver your message. I have received it. As the Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13, I will submit an application to the Zero Division to grant you entry to the Soul King Palace. Now... there is only one problem left before you. One thing you must do."
Yamamoto's eyes were indifferent, but within that indifference, a manic madness began to burn. He slowly raised his Zanpakuto!
"CROSS MY BLADE BEFORE THE SOUL SOCIETY IS DESTROYED!!!"
No words were needed. Ichigo felt a detonating sense of terror and crisis. He lunged forward!
Looking at the charging boy, Yamamoto saw the new era, the new order, and the new future rushing toward him. He felt an instinctive hatred because the Order he upheld would be trampled—but also a sense of joy, for that future might hold a scenery better than this one.
"Bankai... Zanka no Tachi (Longsword of the Remnant Flame)!"
Infinite flames were sealed into the blade. The sword turned charred and black, emitting only wisps of smoke. But in the next instant, it was as if the sun had fallen to earth. The temperature of the entire Seireitei skyrocketed!
Yamamoto slammed the blade into the ground and growled:
"Zanka no Tachi, Minami: Kaka Jūnyōshi Daisōjin (South: Fire Burial Army of Ten Trillion Dead)!"
The ground turned to molten lava. One skeletal demon after another crawled from the magma, shrieking hideously. Every enemy Yamamoto had ever killed was never truly released; their souls and ashes were sealed within his blade. Their sole purpose was this moment: to rise as an Army of the Dead and devour anyone who stood against the Seireitei!
Unleashing a millennium of accumulated evil karma, Yamamoto's mad, cold eyes locked onto Ichigo. He roared:
"Kurosaki Ichigo! This era was founded by my hands and is supported by my strength! If you wish to be the Sun that illuminates the new era, you must cross my blade! Cast me into Hell as a sin-ridden revenant of the old era... otherwise, you shall only... FALL!!!"
End of Chapter
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