High above the Soul King Palace.
A silent standoff continued between Aizen Sōsuke and Hyōsube Ichibē, both wordlessly awaiting the result unfolding in the distance—
A brilliant glow, like a fallen moon, lit the surroundings.
It was Senjumaru Shutara's Bankai.
"Simply trapping the target and isolating it from interference... how stingy and selfish a power,"
Aizen taunted casually.
Of course, such words could also be considered an attack in their own way.
But Hyōsube, thick-skinned as a fortress wall, wasn't moved at all.
He even laughed aloud.
"Feeling uneasy, are we, Aizen Sōsuke?"
His disciple was trapped inside, without a sound for some time.
What dangers might lurk within that unfamiliar ability? Even Aizen couldn't guess.
"Hesitation. Doubt. Perhaps even a flicker of regret."
"What say you? Give up now, submit to us, and perhaps we can call it even."
"Or do you intend to foolishly persist to the bitter end?"
Unusually, Aizen did not reply.
Because, however distasteful, the monk's words struck at the heart of his current weakness.
—The situation was slipping out of control.
Seiya's condition was unknown.
Aizen himself couldn't break through Hyōsube's defense.
Where had things gone wrong?
The Eightfold Method of Kidō had been thoroughly researched and prepared, every bit as advanced as the monk's hidden arts.
Yet during their exchange, Hyōsube's effortless composure weighed on Aizen heavily—
This man had not even begun to fight seriously.
Their duel was not an even match; it was an act of mercy.
How humiliating.
...Perhaps time has been even tighter than I thought.
Aizen lowered his gaze toward his chest.
The Hōgyoku's fusion with him had gone far beyond expectations, even consuming his Zanpakutō.
This should have been the ultimate stage.
And yet—
Maybe he could push even further?
(Originally, Aizen's deviation during his evolution was due to fleeting "wishes" during near-death experiences. Only later did he clarify his path: to keep developing his spiritual pressure.)
Expressionless, Aizen contemplated his next move.
Should he retreat?
Victory was looking increasingly unrealistic.
A temporary retreat would not mean defeat—it would be preparation for a future strike.
Thus, the task at hand became simple.
Without a word, Aizen flicked his right hand.
Eightfold Method: Raging Yaksha.
A deep blue torrent twisted through the air, distant howls rising from it.
Monstrous forms wielding spears and iron rods—Yaksha—emerged, surging forth in a tidal wave of spiritual pressure.
Before this overwhelming assault, Hyōsube lifted his gaze slightly, smiling faintly.
"No matter how often I see it..."
"It's always astonishing."
Though named Kidō, Aizen's technique had evolved completely beyond its origins.
Its power rivaled even hidden Kidō techniques.
"But this—wasn't created by you, was it, Aizen Sōsuke?"
With a sly tone, Hyōsube raised his left hand before him.
Spiritual pressure surged around him, condensing into form.
Hidden Kidō, Fourth Way: Carp Tail of the Dragon.
Golden light coiled upward, forming a massive, dazzling koi carp that spun through the air.
With a casual sweep—
The koi's thick, powerful tail smashed into the wave of Yaksha.
The sky exploded.
Fragments of shattered spirit energy rained down like blood, and panicked civilians within the palace shrieked and fled.
Small wonder—
The Soul King Palace had not seen an invasion in countless years.
And the noble Royal Guard usually ended battles swiftly, never faltering like this.
Could the palace truly fall?
An unspoken dread gripped all hearts.
BOOM!
As the clash raged, both Aizen and Hyōsube suddenly turned toward the glowing mass nearby.
The brilliant sphere of light was collapsing.
No warning.
No hesitation.
They both understood instantly—
the battle inside was decided.
The duel between Seiya and Senjumaru—
Was over.
But who won?
Crack…
With a sound like shattering crystal, the glowing sphere burst.
A blurry figure emerged—
Graceful and poised, Senjumaru Shutara returned to the palace, smiling faintly.
No sign of Seiya.
Had it ended?
However, Hyōsube's expression remained stern.
He could sense it—
Senjumaru's spiritual pressure was fading.
Collapsing rapidly, as if a hole had torn through her soul.
Guh…
Blood trickled from her lips.
Her mechanical hands fell away like dead branches, her elegant robes unraveling.
Turning slightly, her gaze drifted behind her—
To Seiya.
Still standing, calm as ever, he simply nodded once.
"Thank you for the fight," Seiya said quietly.
"Heh... you cunning boy..."
With a final smile, Senjumaru's strength gave out.
Her body plummeted like a broken kite, blood scattering through the air.
Victory—belonged to Seiya!
Even Aizen's mouth twitched into a rare smirk.
Truly worthy to be my disciple.
As Seiya returned to his side, Aizen asked quietly:
"You alright, Seiya-kun?"
"Hm... It was complicated, but the outcome hasn't changed."
So calm, so composed—as if he had foreseen this all along.
Even Hyōsube couldn't help but focus intently on Seiya.
"You... seem a little different."
Not just a surface change.
—How had he escaped from Senjumaru's Bankai?
—How had he won inside her absolute dominion?
—And how could he still stand here so utterly unfazed?
A subtle wrongness gnawed at Hyōsube's senses.
And Seiya sighed inwardly.
You're too perceptive, Hyōsube Ichibē.
Yes, Seiya's memories and abilities had indeed been stripped away inside the Bankai.
He had become, momentarily, a blank slate.
But—
There were memories too powerful to erase.
Seiya's hand brushed his Zanpakutō at his waist.
The spirit of Sāgara Ryū had remained untouched, ceaselessly crying out within him.
And more importantly—
He had a backup plan.
A memory safeguarded not by himself,
but by the Soul King.
Memories connected to the Soul King held weight beyond anything the Royal Guard could touch.
Because of that—
Even when stripped bare, Seiya had clawed his way back.
And triumphed.
After all—
Seiya's strength was never solely his own.
It was built upon the hands that lifted him,
the comrades who fought beside him,
and even the enemies who challenged him.
That was why—
He stood here now.
And Hyōsube, sharp as ever, caught a glimpse of that deeper truth.
"I see..."
"So even this... was part of the Soul King's will."
"Very well."
A thunderous clap echoed as Hyōsube slammed his hands together.
His face twisted into a feral grin.
His eyes, however, remained cold as ice.
"To have come this far—you deserve praise."
"But this is the end of your rebellion."
Withdrawing three steps, he planted his Zanpakutō on the ground.
Thick black liquid oozed forth, painting a broad, dark boundary.
A tangible wall dividing them from what lay beyond.
"From here... this is your limit."
"Beyond this line lies the Soul King's inner sanctum."
"And your eternal resting place."
Crossing his arms, Hyōsube grinned eerily.
There was no doubt.
The final battle had begun: Hyōsube Ichibē!
The spirit of Sāgara Ryū appeared faintly behind Seiya, wrapping her arms nervously around his neck.
"He's... really strong."
A rare comment from his sword spirit—and a warning.
Seiya laughed softly, patting her small head.
"Nervous?"
"W-Who's nervous?! I'm not the one about to die!"
Ah, the charm of a tsundere spirit.
Meanwhile, Aizen's calm voice sounded beside him.
"Seiya-kun."
"Yes, Aizen-sensei?"
"We should retreat."
Plain and simple.
As if discussing the weather.
It was unexpected.
"Eh? But—"
"We've come this far, right? That's what you're thinking."
Reading his mind, Aizen smiled wryly.
"Pride is meaningless without life."
"There will be other chances. But if we die here—it's over."
They had gambled everything already.
But with one last Royal Guard still standing—
Victory was no longer realistic.
"Seiya-kun, what do you think?"
He was asking for Seiya's decision.
Of course, Seiya wanted to leave.
He wasn't some battle maniac seeking death.
But—
"They won't let us go easily."
As he spoke, Hyōsube had already taken his stance.
"Not attacking? What a shame..."
"Well then—allow me."
He reversed his Zanpakutō—
And swung it down.
Voice suddenly low and chilling—
"Stain it black—Ichimonji!"
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Powerstones?
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