Chapter 47: Chapter 47: The Hell Floating Above the Sea of Blood, Named the World
Chapter 47: The Hell Floating Above the Sea of Blood, Named the World
Yato Uchiha leaned on his sword, using his crimson eyes to support himself as he watched Hanzo Mochizuki from afar.
Since the other party had magnanimously let him off the hook, Yato wasn’t going to make any unnecessary moves and throw his life away for nothing.
After all, he was a double agent, eating from both the Seireitei and Aizen’s troughs. The beautiful moral virtue of "loyalty" was something Yato genuinely lacked.
Moreover, Yato was severely injured right now, nearly crippled by the blast of Itto Kaso. Even lifting a single finger was a struggle; he couldn’t stop him even if he wanted to.
Going to such desperate lengths, even the strictest person couldn’t find it in them to lay blame.
His current thought was just to see exactly what this guy Hanzo Mochizuki was trying to do.
Seven bodies, seven major Rukongai districts, seven indiscriminate Kido massacres.
Was he venting his anger? Or taking revenge? Or was there a deeper...
In the distance, amidst a sea of flames, Hanzo Mochizuki closed his eyes.
Plop.
Plop.
Two peculiar surges of power fell into Hanzo Mochizuki’s body like drops of water.
Including the initial one, a total of three split souls and portions of Reiatsu had returned to Hanzo’s main body.
—The other three clones had already been slain by the Gotei 13!
The Ryoka opened his eyes, his expression dim.
If he used his remaining Reiatsu to unleash his Bankai, given Shichishurei’s unique traits, it would spell his certain death.
"Captain Saito... sure enough, all who wield a sword will eventually meet a violent end."
He muttered to himself, focusing his mind as the Reiatsu of a Kido erupted from his body.
The buildings in this area had been completely annihilated, with countless dead and wounded. Bubbling blood evaporated in the roaring flames, turning into a thick, scarlet mist.
"Fire of the sky plummets into Hell. The deep sea, the emerald green, the burning wood, the bronze cauldron, the morning star, and the Holy Mother, all uniting as one..."
His voice pierced through the blood-red fog, echoing across the sea of flames. His Reiatsu let out a low, whimpering hum, as if singing a dirge.
In the distance, Yato’s brow furrowed tightly.
As a super elite student of the Shin’o Academy, Yato Uchiha’s Kido grades were outstanding, easily scoring perfect marks on his graduation exam.
Whether it was Hado, Bakudo, or even his least proficient Kaido, Yato was extremely confident. He had memorized the incantations of all Kido spells by heart and wouldn’t make a single mistake even if reciting them backward.
But he had never even heard of the incantation Hanzo Mochizuki was chanting.
Yato Uchiha certainly wouldn’t think Hanzo had suddenly gone mad and was making up verses on the spot.
So...
"Is it a forbidden Kido even more classified than Itto Kaso?"
Yato drew a sharp breath, bracing himself to withstand the aftershocks of this super Kido.
However, to his surprise, even after Hanzo uttered the final word, no devastatingly powerful Kido descended.
Instead, a massive symbol, as black as obsidian, coalesced in the midair.
It was composed of simple lines, thick at the bottom and tapering at the top, looking somewhat like... an arrow?
This giant pitch-black arrow hummed in the air. Like a compass needle, it shifted its position before finally pointing toward a specific spot on the ground below.
Coincidentally, that spot was quite close to Yato Uchiha, just a few steps away.
But the current Hanzo Mochizuki clearly had no time to worry about the boy. He quickly rushed to the spot indicated by the arrow and began frantically digging with his single hand, seemingly searching for something.
His arm trembled slightly. His gaze was devout; it looked less like he was digging in the dirt and more like he was on a pilgrimage.
...
[Eight Hundred and Fifty Years Ago]
"Captain? Captain!"
"Hmm? Stop shaking me... I’m not dead yet."
"We have to leave right now! I smell the aura of a Senkaimon; the Seireitei’s pursuers are right behind us!"
"I know, you idiot brat."
Furofushi Saito stood up unsteadily.
She had a petite figure, wore her hair in twin-tails, and possessed an incredibly beautiful face.
Sadly, her current body could only be described as riddled with holes. Her pristine white Captain’s haori was dyed crimson with blood, and her left sleeve hung completely empty—she had already lost an arm in the preceding slaughter.
"Captain, why don’t you just attach my arm..."
"Piss off." The young girl shot Hanzo a sidelong glance.
"I don’t want a man’s thick, rough hand."
The young Hanzo Mochizuki’s face twisted into a bitter grimace as blood streamed profusely down his face.
"Heh, that’s definitely going to leave a scar." The corners of Furofushi Saito’s mouth curled up. At a time like this, she actually still had the mood to gloat.
"That brat Chojiro Sasakibe’s Bankai actually looked pretty good, huh? To think you could only withstand a single strike, tsk tsk tsk."
"Captain, I swear, I will learn a Bankai even stronger than his!"
"Now that’s some backbone. That’s more like it, idiot brat!" The twin-tailed Captain smiled.
"Unfortunately, I won’t be around to see that day."
"Captain, you..."
A colossal Reiatsu instantly annihilated the rest of Hanzo’s words.
This Reiatsu was immense enough to tear apart continents, swallow the deep sea, and incinerate the sky.
It was unimaginably ancient, so powerful it could be considered a god!
Under this overwhelming Reiatsu, even the battle-hardened Hanzo Mochizuki could only hold out for a few breaths before falling to his knees, his consciousness rapidly sinking into chaos.
Furofushi Saito was still smiling. Facing this legendary, formidable enemy, there was not a trace of sorrow or fear on the face of the founding 6th Division Captain.
"Monk, didn’t I just take a single swing at that limbless husk? Was it really necessary for an old man like you to personally chase us all the way to Hueco Mundo?"
After she spoke those words, the eternal night canopy of Hueco Mundo suddenly grew a fraction brighter.
As if the very concept of [Black] had been stripped away from it.
"Looks like you’re actually angry."
Saito curled her lips, crouched down, and placed her intact right hand over Hanzo Mochizuki’s face.
"I’m sending you deep into Hueco Mundo. Don’t ever come back to the Soul Society."
"But knowing your temper, you’ll definitely kick and scream, demanding to come rescue me. Or at the very least, collect my corpse."
Hanzo’s consciousness was slipping into a hazy blur, but he firmly etched every single word his Captain said into his memory.
"I might die. Or I might be locked up in Muken, or imprisoned in the Soul King Palace."
"If you want to reach the Soul King Palace, you need the Oken at the very least... I buried that thing in the Zaraki District, where we used to live together."
"That guy Yhwach won’t give up on the Soul Society. It’s highly likely he’ll attack again someday in the future. When that time comes, you can use the chaos to slip in and retrieve the Oken."
"Idiot... brat."
"If we ever get the chance to meet again, you better show me your Bankai."
Feeling the warmth of his Captain’s skin, Hanzo Mochizuki could hold on no longer and fell into a deep sleep.
Since that day, he had never seen Furofushi Saito again.
But the softness of those fingertips still lingered in his dreams.
[Eight Hundred and Fifty Years Later, Present]
...
Hanzo Mochizuki’s digging hand abruptly stopped.
A delicate softness transmitted from his fingertips.
This feeling... was so familiar.
The disfigured middle-aged man pursed his lips and gently pulled the object out of the dirt.
Watching from a short distance away, Yato Uchiha felt a bone-deep chill rise from the bottom of his heart.
The thing Hanzo Mochizuki had just dug out of the ground was actually a pale, slender woman’s arm!
Hanzo cradled the arm to his chest. His body trembled violently as he let out a weeping, mournful cry:
"Captain... So the Oken was... What they did to you...!"
He thought he could restrain his anger and suppress his emotions. But he never expected that the moment he touched Furofushi Saito’s remains, the ironclad reason he had spent a thousand years building would instantly collapse and shatter.
Suddenly, Hanzo Mochizuki sharply raised his head, glaring up at the sky.
Captain, did you die up there?
The purple-haired girl’s last words flashed through Hanzo’s mind.
—If we ever get the chance to meet again, you better show me your Bankai.
The Ryoka gently stroked the severed arm, his voice a soft whisper:
"Your orders received, Captain Saito."
Three pairs of massive black wings sprouted from his back, entwined with dragons and serpents, radiating an overwhelming, monstrous malice.
"Bankai... Hien Shichishurei."
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