Chapter 58: Kings of Antiquity
What kind of emotions could those be?
Even if it was another personality within him, with a completely different character and fighting style—a person distinct in every way but for the name—now, not a single word could be uttered.
Right before his eyes, his strongest technique was utterly destroyed.
How crushing was such a blow?
Chojirou now understood.
He watched helplessly as the tattered Muhammad walked toward him, step by deliberate step. Yet his own body refused to respond.
He could see it clearly—his brain had given the precise command to "run away"—but his body alone, his footwork, would not budge an inch.
“Is it such a heavy blow? The secret technique you have kept for so long can’t even inflict what could be called ‘damage’…”
Muhammad slowly raised his hand and said coolly, “You’re finished.”
Boom!
With monstrous strength, he drove his fist into Chojirou’s abdomen. Unable to withstand the force, Chojirou was sent flying, crashing into the rubble.
“If you quietly leave now, I’ll let you go.”
Muhammad flexed his wrist. Though a faint numbness lingered in his body, it no longer hindered his movements.
Crumbling noises sounded as Chojirou struggled to push the stones off himself. Clutching his wounded shoulder, he staggered to his feet.
The inner personality had been forcefully suppressed by his own Kido, yet Chojirou knew, with his current self, victory was impossible.
Though his Bankai remained unbroken, there was no hope of triumph. The overwhelming strength of his opponent had utterly shattered his fighting spirit; even his body could no longer move with its former agility.
Were a hundred years of effort to amount to nothing but this?
Chojirou suddenly let out a self-mocking laugh.
“If you’ve nothing to say, then go calm yourself elsewhere.”
Seeing Chojirou remain silent for so long, Muhammad simply shrugged and walked past him.
“In any case, Seireitei is so vast—destroying it completely will still take a bit of time.”
!
“Seireitei is in your hands now. That was the Captain-Commander’s last command.”
“My Fourth Division is in your care as well, Vice-Captain Sasakibe.”
“Tch…”
Clenching his teeth, Chojirou gripped his Soul-Cutter tightly, spun around, and swung it fiercely at Muhammad’s back.
“Stop right there!”
Smack.
Muhammad turned slightly, catching Chojirou’s sword arm in his grasp.
“Do you want to continue? You have no chance of winning.”
“Don’t you dare take another step…”
Suddenly, lightning flickered in the storm clouds, and a thunderclap crashed down before the sound could even reach them.
“Not unless you step over my dead body!”
Boom!
“Fool…”
Muhammad did not release Chojirou’s arm, nor did he attempt to evade. Instead, he raised his other hand, gathering a mass of spirit particles above him in the shape of a shield.
Crackling lightning struck the shield, which merely trembled before regaining calm. The thunderbolt could not advance any farther.
“A mutual destruction? You don’t have the power for that.”
…
Chojirou’s pupils slowly widened.
He could only stare blankly as Muhammad, right before his eyes, blocked lightning faster than sound with a single hand—unable to do anything else.
Is this the fate of the weak—to be toyed with, unable even to decide their own life or death?
“Well then…”
As the lightning dissipated and his fighting spirit vanished, Chojirou collapsed to his knees, the light in his eyes extinguished.
A hundred years of effort, shattered so easily.
Such a blow was not one one could simply endure.
“It’s over…!”
Muhammad, prepared to deliver the final blow, suddenly widened his eyes in alarm. The broken, defeated Soul Reaper before him had vanished; his own hand clutched nothing but air, his wrist marked by a fresh, deep wound.
Who was it?!
Who possessed such speed that even he could not perceive it? Who, in a single instant, broke through his Blut Vene and wounded his wrist, whisking Chojirou away before he could even feel pain?
Who had such power?!
“There’s no need for that expression, boy. You did well enough.”
The newcomer propped the still-dazed Chojirou against the wall, then turned to face the Quincy standing not far away. He smiled, unhesitatingly offering praise.
“With such strength…”
Masane Yasuda gripped his Zanpakuto, standing tall upon the battlefield.
“Beneath Shigekuni Yamamoto, there is no equal.”
The former Captain-Commander of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads enters the fray!
“What a surprise…” Muhammad spread his hands, walking slowly toward Yasuda. “You’re one of those ‘highest-level combat forces’ not counted among the regular ranks. I didn’t expect you to appear. Should I call this a miscalculation?”
“Plans never keep up with change. Do I need to teach you that, boy?”
Masane Yasuda slowly drew his sword, tossing the scabbard aside.
“Though I have retired, I don’t recall ever withdrawing from the field of battle.”
“So you intend to die on the battlefield, old man?”
Even Muhammad could not help but clench his fists.
This was a Soul Reaper even more experienced than Shigekuni Yamamoto, and he had once served as Captain-Commander. The extent of his power remained an unknown.
“You young ones are truly arrogant these days. It seems you need a proper lesson.”
Masane Yasuda shrugged off his outer robe and readied himself for combat.
“It’s been ages since I’ve held a sword. This feeling is truly nostalgic.”
“Save your sentimentality for later…” Muhammad gritted his teeth with a smile, raising his hand and releasing a swift, powerful spirit arrow.
“Die, old man!”
Boom!
He raised a single hand.
Just one hand—the very hand that held his sword. More precisely, only two fingers of his right hand.
While Chojirou had to struggle to dodge Muhammad’s barrage, not daring to face it directly, Masane Yasuda simply caught it with two fingers.
“I see…”
Masane Yasuda’s body did not move an inch. To him, Muhammad’s attack was like a stream from a water gun—there was no need to take a single step back.
“It was indeed a powerful strike. No wonder the surroundings are in such ruin.”
“Boy, what happens next—I hope you’ll keep it to yourself.”
Without doubt, these words were meant for Chojirou behind him. Whether or not he was conscious, Masane did not turn his head, simply speaking as he pleased.
“I’d rather not become a pariah in the Soul Society.”