The moment the Adjuchas's words fell, one silhouette after another peeled from invisible barriers, their feral grins emerging before Makoto and Yorita.
As they well knew.
Most Adjuchas, the second stage of Menos Grande, operated in packs.
At the sight, Makoto's heart lurched.
They'd been marked long ago.
"Don't hog it all, Cenizario."
With the voice came a monkey-like Adjuchas, noticeably smaller than its kin, its lips curling as it fixed a sinister gaze on the encircled pair.
Seven… huh?
Makoto's eyes swept the scene, tallying them in his mind.
But before he could act...
His gaze snagged.
Sensing something amiss, the monkey Adjuchas tensed, its body curling into a spiky ball like a hedgehog.
That split-second reflex spared it a fatal blow.
A golden gleam flared, streaking past like true thunder.
Sasakibe's blazing reiatsu erupted, his form piercing two Adjuchas masks in an instant. Only the last dodged by sheer luck.
The surrounding pack recoiled, startled, scattering with instinctive roars.
With his clothes tattered, Sasakibe planted himself before the two again.
He reached up, yanking off the shredded remains of his shihakushō and tossing them aside, revealing a chiseled physique honed by countless drills beneath.
Bronzed skin bore ash and bloodstains.
A stark wound gaped at his side.
"Sasakibe-san!"
Yorita cried out in elation.
Yet Makoto's expression remained grim.
He knew well that, compared to the Hierro of Menos, most Shinigami were fragile.
Sasakibe was formidable, but after that hit, how much fight did he have left?
"Makoto."
"I leave the rest to you."
Sasakibe's voice stayed even, his eyes fixed on the Adjuchas pack.
Caught off-guard and humbled, Sasakibe bore the weight of his duty.
Makoto pressed his lips tight, saying nothing.
By now, he'd shed any notions of sticking to canon.
A single lapse could mean death or injury.
That truth had been proven time and again in countless battles.
All he could do now was minimize the Genji School's losses.
"I understand."
"Wait, Makoto?" Yorita faltered.
Makoto's cold gaze swept over him, steady, "Sasakibe will survive."
"Let's go!"
Feeling the resolve in his tone, Yorita stared, dazed.
Before he could react, Makoto seized him, pulling him into a sprint.
"Cero!"
Black-red beams lanced forth.
But a faint murmur rose behind.
"Bakudō 81: Dankū."
Even without incantation, this high-level Kidō mustered less than a third of its full defense.
Still, it sufficed against these half-baked Ceros.
A translucent wall rose, intercepting the blasts and their roaring detonations.
Sasakibe stood unmoving, watching them calmly.
"We're so lucky to catch a big noble."
"Shinigami…"
Only the monkey Adjuchas, seasoned by years, knew enough of the Soul Society.
Its gaze on Sasakibe grew wary.
Hoo...
Feeling his reiatsu drain and the searing pain flare at his side, Sasakibe exhaled long and slow.
This had to end quickly.
He turned to the Adjuchas pack.
"Let me show you!"
"Bankai…"
At those first syllables, the monkey Adjuchas's eyes bulged in shock.
The next instant, its vision drowned in gathering storm clouds and a canopy of golden thunder. The young man's reiatsu surged, threatening to shatter the sky, linking endlessly with the roiling lightning above.
A cascade of bolts formed a shimmering veil before the Hollows.
Sasakibe, bare-chested, stood amidst them, bathed in thunder's glow like a descended deity.
He leveled his rapier's tip at them.
"Kōkō Gonryō Rikyu!"
"…"
A grim realization dawned in every Adjuchas's heart.
They'd kicked an iron wall.
In a flash, beyond the mountain, clouds crowned the peaks, and thunder roared.
The explosive clash of reiatsu echoed through the sky.
---
"Makoto, that's…?"
Sensing the colossal reiatsu surging behind, as if it could pierce the clouds, Yorita whirled in awe.
Makoto nodded with a smile, "Sasakibe's reiatsu."
"Don't let his look fool you."
"He's a man personally endorsed by Captain-Commander Yamamoto."
"…I see."
Relief eased Yorita's tension, his spirits lifting.
But Makoto's optimism didn't match.
Sasakibe was strong, no doubt.
Yet, as Makoto knew, the overwhelming might of his lightning Bankai outstripped his reiatsu reserves…
Sasakibe might not hold out long.
The thought sank Makoto's mood.
A slight pang of regret.
The lone silver lining, that since breaking that earlier encirclement, they'd hit a clear stretch.
Not a single Hollow pack had crossed their path.
A stroke of fortune.
Yet the longer this eerie safety stretched, the more unease gnawed.
Until, passing a village, Yorita's face hardened.
"Makoto!"
"We need another route."
Makoto shot him a puzzled glance.
Then Yorita pointed to the village's edge, tattered hemp clothes strewn about, his expression grave beyond measure.
"No blood, no limbs, just clothes."
"That's… a sign of spirits crushed by an immense reiatsu source."
"Our clear path so far? Likely because something very powerful lies ahead."
Makoto's heart skipped a beat.
Crushing spirits with raw reiatsu alone was beyond Adjuchas.
Among Shinigami, only a handful of elite masters could manage it, and they'd never lack such control.
Then…
The thought sparked, and Makoto's gaze snapped forward.
Even across dozens of reiatsu, he felt it... a presence scorching his skin like flame.
Its mere existence unraveled others into ruin.
Neither restrained nor unleashed.
Simply there.
A Vasto Lorde.
The highest tier of Menos Grande!
In the distance, that Vasto Lorde sensed the faint spiritual ping, turning toward its source.
Hooves tapped the soft earth, leaving crisp prints.
A female Vasto Lorde, human torso atop an antelope's lower half.
She stood, her head half-encased in a stark white bone mask, her human frame clad in matching snowy armor. Arms, waist, and hands were fully sheathed, while steel-like skin bared a graceful chest and abdomen.
In her right hand, she gripped a massive conical lance, its twin tips absurdly oversized.
Her gaze swept over him, and an icy dread stabbed Makoto's core, as if needles pierced his eyes.
Then, a mocking whisper slithered from beside.
"It's been ages since I last roamed free."
"I won't let you spoil the fun!"
Makoto's body tensed instinctively. He shoved Yorita aside, flashing dozens of meters away with Shunpo.
A deafening blast erupted where they'd stood.
A stone-clad humanoid Hollow, over five meters tall, burst from the earth, its two-meter-wide palms clapping shut.
The windblast whipped Makoto's hair into a frenzy.
Yet his eyes stayed locked on the distant Vasto Lorde, trembling faintly.
"Shiba-san."
His voice turned solemn, snapping the rising Yorita to attention, "The road ahead…"
"You'll have to take alone."
***
Bonus Chapter:
100 Power Stones = 1 BC
300 Power Stones = 2 BC
500 Power Stones = 3 BC
700 Power Stones = 4 BC
1000 Power Stones = 5 BC
***
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