Marvel With Zanpakutou

Chapter 819: I Swear in My Name—There Is Nothing in This World That Cannot Be Cut!

In truth, during the final battle in Newcastle, when he slew the Crippled God, Lorde distinctly remembered hearing a voice and seeing a nearly transparent Zanpakuto.

As for the origin of this second Zanpakuto, even Lorde himself was still determining. That nearly transparent sword was entirely different from Kan Sōkai’s ability, making it a unique case in the history of Soul Society.

Though he didn’t understand the whole reason, he later attempted to summon that Zanpakuto again.

Unfortunately...

Every attempt failed.

However, the failure wasn’t because the Zanpakuto rejected him—it was because nothing could adequately contain its power.

Thus, to fully release the second Zanpakuto, he needed to find a blade that could bear its immense strength.

Scabbard’s Slumber...

It was the only sword capable of bearing it!

Only a Zanpakuto with such a pure sword spirit and an edge that could never be dulled could withstand its tremendous power.

"Ah..." Lorde sighed lightly, feeling like a desperate gambler with nothing to lose.

There was no retreat, no way back. He had to place all his hopes on this second Zanpakuto.

If possible...

He would have preferred to rely on something other than such an uncertain ability.

But there was no time for regret.

If he didn’t stop the singularity of All Things to One, everything he knew would return to the beginning and be obliterated by the micro-universe’s big bang.

Was he going mad?

Perhaps. But he had no other choice. Only a madman could fight another madman.

Buzzz...

The blade of Scabbard’s Slumber hummed softly as if resonating with Lorde’s turbulent emotions. Deep within his soul, the dormant power began to awaken, stirred by his resolve.

"Finally awake, are you?" Lorde’s lips curled into a smile beneath his white mask. "You’ve been asleep for far too long—it’s time to stretch your muscles."

The trembling of Scabbard’s Slumber intensified!

The seemingly ordinary blade began to crack at the guard, with fractures spreading like branching trees across the entire sword.

These cracks didn’t weaken the structure of the blade. Instead, they seemed like intricate engravings, glowing from within. Through the fissures, a faint light shimmered.

"Ah—" Lorde whispered, feeling the power surging within him. He gripped the sword tightly, and his eyes, like the blade, were now filled with cracks.

Once again, the world he saw was entirely of brilliant, colourful fissures—an intricately shattered world that left a chilling impression.

The most beautiful things are often the most dangerous.

Such was the world in Lorde’s eyes.

The vibrant cracks crisscrossed everything, splitting the world into fragmented pieces like a delicate, broken work of art that had been pieced back together. Yet, these beautiful cracks represented the strands of fate that led everything toward destruction.

It was like the three Norns of Norse mythology, weaving the threads of fate on their loom without rest, intertwining the destinies of all life.

Each thread was so thin...

With a simple touch, the thread of fate would snap.

This was the world Lorde saw.

A world woven with death and fate, heading toward inevitable destruction. And he, like a god weaving destiny, controlled the course of all things.

A puppet manipulated by fate’s threads, it now sought to sever the string connecting it to its master, taking the first step in defiance.

In the next moment, the world fell silent.

An indescribable oppressive force blanketed the sky, shrouded in leaden clouds.

"I swear in my name..."

Lorde raised Scabbard’s Slumber high. The blade, covered in intricate cracks, gleamed beautifully against the edge of the black singularity’s horizon, its fractured beauty impossible to describe. His voice grew louder as if he were making a vow to the world: "Nothing in this world can exist that this sword cannot cut!"

It was both an oath and a decree.

Lorde spread his black wings with a single step forward, whipping up a storm so fierce it seemed to carry him from sight.

Women—

The sky erupted in a piercing sonic boom.

The sheer ferocity of the unleashed power was like a volcano dormant for aeons, erupting with such force that the heavens themselves quaked.

The shockwave alone levelled everything within a radius of miles. Debris was caught in the powerful gusts, pulled into massive tornadoes that raged across the land, consuming all in their path.

Boom—

Lorde charged forward.

His target: the All Things to One singularity. Dragging the sword along the sky, the blade sliced through the air, leaving a massive gash in its wake.

As he neared the event horizon, gravity suddenly intensified thousands of times. The extreme density warped even time itself.

Yet the dark streak of his movement seemed unaffected, cutting through the winds as dragon-like roars echoed.

Kendō: Eight Thousand Streams, Heavens and Earth as One!

A terrifying sword aura burst forth instantly, brilliant as the first light at dawn, like the first sparkle of creation.

Clang—!

Where the sword passed, the sky fractured into radiant cracks, spreading from the point of origin like the branches of a great tree. Everyone stared, awestruck.

It was like a towering tree that spanned the heavens.

But this tree was imprinted upon the sky, flat and vast.

The countless cracks extending outward were like branches adorned with vibrant, colourful leaves.

It was a masterpiece, a scene of unparalleled grandeur.

Even the most extravagant words could not begin to capture one-tenth of its beauty. The countless branch-like cracks fractured the entire world.

The black sphere began to crack.

Then, breaking glass echoed continuously as if a vase had shattered. Fractures appeared across the horizon of the black singularity, growing wider with each second.

Not even the ultimate force of All Things to One could resist the strings of fate. When the blade sliced through that crack, its destruction was sealed.

The crushing gravitational force disappeared, and the abnormal gravity vanished. All the matter drawn into the sky began to fall like meteors, creating a strange kind of rain.

"It’s finally over..."

Lorde swung his sword with a flick of his wrist and exhaled deeply, his tense nerves finally relaxing.

Unohana Retsu smiled softly, her eyes filled with endless tenderness. He had kept his promise.

But at that very moment!

In an instant Lorde let his guard down, a hand appeared silently behind him and rested on his shoulder.

"If you were to take a vacation, where would you go?" a playful voice whispered in his ear.

Before Lorde could react, a hand pressed down on his sword hilt, stopping him from drawing it. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he saw a golden, double-tiered crown and a robe of shimmering colours.

Suddenly, a point of black light appeared behind him.

In the blink of an eye, the black point expanded into a massive "hole," like the gaping maw of a monstrous beast. Its powerful gravity instantly caught hold of Lorde, pulling him toward the dark abyss.

"Bye-bye~"

The man waved with a chuckle, "Enjoy your trip."