These words made Ganryū's reiatsu surge violently, his blood boiling with fury. He nearly lost himself to rage.
"How could I, a noble scion of the Ryōdoji Clan, allow such disgrace?! I will not tolerate your insolence—I'll end you here and now!"
He poured all his spiritual energy into his Zanpakutō, unleashing a massive, white torrent in the shape of a dragon. The force behind it was overwhelming, shaking the very air as it surged forward.
"Boom!"
The colossal dragon crashed toward Akira, and upon impact, the ground split apart with a deafening crack. Smoke and dust shot skyward, obscuring the battlefield.
"This technique…"
In Seireitei's West Court, Abarai Renji narrowed his eyes as he observed the attack.
Somewhere in the depths of his soul, an ancient memory stirred—a hidden technique buried within his instincts.
Could my Bankai evolve into something like this?
"What incredible power…"
On the other side, Komamura Sajin, still recovering from his injuries, muttered in awe.
Even a warrior who had mastered the might of Bankai had to acknowledge this overwhelming force.
Ganryū smirked, pleased with his own handiwork.
"Now, suffer the consequences of your disrespect!"
His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he gazed at the massive crater, eager to witness Akira's destruction.
But what he saw defied all logic.
Akira stood unscathed—his feet planted firmly, his expression unbothered. With a single hand, he held the white dragon's writhing form, stopping it dead in its tracks.
"What?! Impossible!"
Ganryū's voice cracked in disbelief.
With a low hum, dark flames erupted from Akira's palm—Amaterasu Dragonfire, black and consuming. It surged along the length of the white dragon, igniting it in an instant.
"Damn it!"
Ganryū snapped back to reality, gripping his Zanpakutō tightly. Without hesitation, he swung again.
In an instant, the ground beneath Akira trembled, and countless white torrents erupted from all directions. They coiled around him, tightening like an unbreakable cocoon of spiritual energy.
"Hah! Let's see you escape from this!"
Ganryū let out a triumphant laugh, continuously generating torrents to reinforce the trap. He would bury Akira as deep as possible—obliterate him completely!
But deep inside, he was afraid.
No—terrified.
Just then, a voice drifted through the battlefield. It was calm, unwavering.
"Oh? So when you go all out, you're at least somewhat interesting."
Ganryū's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't see him, but the voice surrounded him, resonating through the air.
Then—
The earth trembled violently.
"Black Flame Dragon's—Broken Tooth!"
A violent shockwave tore through the battlefield. The white torrents that imprisoned Akira shattered as a spiraling inferno of pitch-black flames erupted from the ground. The flames howled, twisting like a living dragon, consuming everything in their path.
At its center, standing amidst the devastation, was Akira.
He looked like a harbinger of destruction—like a demon god wreathed in black fire.
"If that's the case…" Akira smirked, the edges of his lips curling upward.
"…then I'll return the favor."
Black flames crackled around his lips as he inhaled deeply.
"Black Flame Dragon's—Roar!"
A deafening boom followed as a tsunami of black fire engulfed the battlefield, an unstoppable force of devastation.
"Damn it—!"
Ganryū's confidence shattered. Panic set in as he frantically gathered his spiritual energy, summoning a massive white torrent to form a towering barrier before him.
A city wall of pure reiatsu.
But it was meaningless.
The black flames tore through the defense in less than a heartbeat.
"Black Flame Dragon's—Iron Fist!"
Akira flashed from behind the crumbling city wall at extreme speed, black flames surging around his fists.
"Boom!"
Ganryū barely had time to raise his Zanpakutō in defense before an overwhelming force crashed into him, sending shockwaves through his entire body. His bones groaned under the impact, nearly shattering.
"Cough!"
He was launched like a missile, his body tearing through the air before smashing into the valley behind him with earth-shaking force.
"Boom—rumble—"
The valley collapsed, burying Ganryū beneath tons of rubble. The impact sent tremors through the battlefield, and every Shinigami in the Seireitei turned their eyes toward the destruction.
"Did… we win?"
"Has Captain Akira won?"
"Did we stop Ganryū?"
The battle had ended so swiftly that many could barely process what had happened. A combatant with power rivaling Bankai had been taken down in mere moments.
"We really… won?"
Matsumoto Rangiku fell to the ground, exhausted. She gazed at Akira, her breath uneven. To possess such overwhelming strength—he was a monster in his own right.
Around her, the Shinigami who had been trembling in fear moments ago now erupted into cheers.
"Yeah! The threat is over!"
"Long live Captain Akira!"
"Amazing! Absolutely incredible!"
Celebration spread throughout the Seireitei, but on the high platform, Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni did not join in. His brows furrowed, his hand tightening around Ryūjin Jakka.
"…Could it really be that simple?"
In the Collapsed Valley
Beneath the rubble, Ganryū gritted his teeth. At the last possible moment, he had conjured a formation of energy blades, creating a protective barrier around himself. Even so, pain coursed through his body—his arm bones had fractured from the sheer force of that last blow.
"That guy… he's like a monster."
He looked down at his Zanpakutō, which was still wreathed in black flames. No matter what he did, they refused to die out.
"What kind of insane ability is this? It can even burn a Zanpakutō itself?"
With no other choice, he discarded the sword, though it wasn't his primary weapon. His real trump card remained untouched.
"I may not be able to defeat him in direct combat… but I haven't lost yet."
A cold glint flashed in his eyes. This was the power that even Yamamoto feared—the ability to command an army of soulless spirits.
This place, Valley Space, was vast beyond measure. And now, as Ganryū activated his true ability, the very ground trembled.
From every direction, an endless sea of spirits emerged. Formless, mindless, and countless beyond imagination, they surged forward, marching in perfect unison toward Akira.
The sight sent a chill down the spines of the watching Shinigami.
"No way… it's not over?!"
Some had still been celebrating when reality crashed down on them. They stared in horror as the sky turned an eerie white, swallowed by the sheer mass of spirits.
"It was never going to be that easy…"
On the high platform, Yamamoto's grip on Ryūjin Jakka tightened. This was why he had hesitated. Even if the full might of the Gotei 13 was unleashed, overcoming this force would be no simple task.
After all, how many souls had cycled between the Human World and Soul Society since the beginning of time?
Even if only a fraction—one-thousandth, one-ten-thousandth—were transformed into soulless entities, their sheer numbers could overwhelm even the strongest of warriors.
The battle was far from over.
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