Chapter 808: Brutal Overpowering
In this world, everything has a name.
The Kotodama (Word Spirit) concept is that by calling a thing by its name, you grant it power. Conversely, by stripping a thing of its name, you take away its power.
Ōetsu Nimaiya’s Ichimonji is not a conventional zanpakutō; it is a blade that can arbitrarily modify reality’s rules, granting or stripping the kotodama of everything.
Remember Ōetsu Nimaiya’s nickname? The "True Name-Calling Monk." He was the one who granted everything in the Soul Society its names, giving all things their power through words.
Since he could bestow names and power, it also followed that he could take them away.
Once Ichimonji is released, its black ink can strip the names of anything it touches and permanently weaken that thing’s power by half.
In the original story, Yhwach broke this power by using his All Seeing Eyes ability to grant himself new strength, reclaiming his lost name.
But the question now is...
Can the Nova Corps reclaim their lost names and power similarly?
Lord doubted it. Ichimonji rewrites the rules of existence fundamentally—it wasn’t just a simple act of forgetting.
Unless the Nova Corps possessed some bug-level ability that could rewrite reality on the same scale as Ōetsu Nimaiya, they would not be able to recover their lost names, even if they understood how Ichimonji worked.
In terms of pure destructive power, ten Ōetsu Nimaiyas combined wouldn’t be as dangerous as Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni.
But in a one-on-one fight, even ten Yamamoto wouldn’t be able to defeat a single Ōetsu Nimaiya.
As the sole leader of the Royal Guard and the Spirit King’s final protector, Ōetsu Nimaiya ranked just below Yhwach in terms of power.
From the moment he released his zanpakutō, victory was already inevitable.
"This... this is impossible..."
The nameless Centurions looked terrified. They realized that not only had they forgotten their name, but even the Worldmind’s database had no record of them.
It was as if a magical pen had quietly erased their name, leaving behind a blank space where it used to be.
An unprecedented fear spread among the Centurions’ hearts. This was a kind of despair they could neither comprehend nor had ever experienced.
They knew deep down that they were not a nameless corps. The name that had been erased was vital to their identity, and they needed to recover it.
"Do you... do you remember what we are called?"
The Centurions turned pale, desperate gazes toward Ronan, Ebony Maw, and even Star-Lord, hoping someone could tell them their name.
Their eyes were like those of a drowning person, clinging to the last piece of driftwood, praying for salvation.
But, unfortunately...
They found no salvation—only more profound despair.
"No... I don’t know."
Ebony Maw’s pupils trembled with genuine terror at the man’s power.
"I... I’ve forgotten too... What were you called again?"
Ronan struggled to recall but found only a blank space where his memory of them should have been.
"What were you called again?"
Star-Lord scratched his head briefly, unable to remember, before shrugging and offering a cheeky smile, "Maybe you should ask that guy over there? He might know."
The last sliver of hope... shattered.
The Centurions sank into total despair. They had lost the motivation to protect anything. They couldn’t even comprehend why they were fighting, and the energy source within them seemed to fade away like a fire that had run out of fuel.
The nine Centurions exchanged glances, and in an instant, they all understood each other’s thoughts.
Fight! Fight! Fight!
A fierce battle spirit ignited like a roaring flame, reigniting their sense of purpose.
Even though they had forgotten what they were protecting and why they were fighting, their honor and sense of duty still told them they had to defeat the dangerous enemy before them.
They absolutely couldn’t let him...
Get near the Worldmind, or the consequences would be catastrophic.
"A nameless corps, huh..."
Ōetsu Nimaiya raised an eyebrow, noticing the burning determination in the eyes of the nine Centurions. He sighed, "Even after losing your name and your purpose, you still hold onto your duty. You are indeed a commendable army."
He had always admired those willing to give their lives to protect something important. They may have shared a similar sense of duty and responsibility.
"If that’s the case..."
Ōetsu Nimaiya’s muscles bulged as he let out a roar. Once seemingly slow and cumbersome, his enormous body radiated power, pushing against his loose clothing.
His dark, bulging veins pulsed under his skin like serpentine dragons, silently displaying the explosive strength hidden within his massive frame.
Boom—
The spiritual energy surrounding his body surged like a flood, tearing through the air with roaring winds and thunderous force.
At that moment, Nimaiya’s eyes glowed like blazing white lights, too bright to look at directly. The fierce winds whipped the air into a frenzy, creating shockwaves that shook the sky.
The sheer intensity of his presence left even the Centurions horrified. The once seemingly friendly monk had now transformed into a terrifying beast!
The next moment, space itself seemed to shatter.
The atmosphere rippled like a stone thrown into a pond, causing giant waves to ripple as a loud sound tore the sky apart.
A massive black figure shot forward like an uncaged beast, easily breaking through layers of air. The speed at which he moved surpassed the limits of the naked eye, leaving a trail of wind in his wake.
Die!
What appeared to be ordinary hands now carried the weight of mountains, their power overwhelming and inhuman.
The air around them seemed to vanish, creating a vacuum as the sheer force of his strike obliterated the Centurion’s energy shield and slammed into one of them. The impact sent the energy surging through the Centurion’s body, reducing him to nothing but a bloody mist.
The other Centurions were stunned for a second before they roared in fury, charging toward the monk.
Ōetsu Nimaiya narrowed his eyes and, in one swift motion, clenched his fingers into a fist. The air around his hand cracked, and an enormous force flowed from his feet into his arm as he threw a devastating punch at another Centurion’s face.
The Centurion raised his arms in defense, gathering all his remaining strength to block the blow.
But the moment their bodies made contact, the Centurion realized he had made a terrible mistake.
The weight and impact of Nimaiya’s punch were like a warship crashing into him. The sheer force crushed every inch of his body, pulverizing his bones.
Crack, crack crack...
The Centurion’s body crumpled as bones snapped, his head driven into his chest by the impact. His internal organs, mixed with blood, splattered out as he died instantly.
The onlookers gasped in shock.
This wasn’t a man—it was a monster wearing human skin. His violent strength was so overwhelming that it left everyone’s skin crawling.
