*Clang! Clang! Clang!*
Kidō bursts and raw force collided in a deafening storm of blows. Incantations crackled in the air as Bakudō #73 — Tozanshō (Falling Mountain Crystal) formed a crystalline blue barrier, absorbing the wild arc of Nozarashi's swing. Sparks flared from the impact, and the ground beneath the two combatants twisted and shattered under the weight of their spiritual pressures.
Zaraki Kenpachi grinned wildly, blood trickling from his brow. "That all you got, old man?! You call this a fight?!"
Kenpachi Azashiro stood still within the collapsing Kidō barrier, eyes narrowed and cold. Without a word, he raised his hand.
"Hadō #88 — Hiryū Gekizoku Shinten Raihō! (Dragon Strike Heaven-Shaking Lightning Cannon)"
A massive torrent of lightning surged from his palm, blinding and thunderous. The blast tore through the battlefield like a wrathful dragon, crashing into Zaraki's form and engulfing him in a brilliant explosion of energy.
*BOOOOOM!*
The air trembled. Rocks exploded skyward. Dust blanketed the area.
Zaraki emerged from the smoke, laughter echoing like a madman, his uniform scorched and skin blackened. "Now that's more like it!"
He launched forward with a wild swing. Azashiro extended both palms and chanted quickly—
"Bakudō #61 — Rikujōkōrō!"
Golden rods of light fired out, pinning Zaraki mid-charge. The Eleventh Kenpachi halted, frozen in place for a heartbeat.
Azashiro seized the moment, weaving his fingers into another chant. "Hadō #63 — Raikōhō!"
A roar of thunder burst from his hands. The lightning cannon struck Zaraki point-blank—blasting him backward with a concussive crack!
The boulder behind him shattered as he crashed into it, carving a trench into the ground before skidding to a halt.
Breathing heavily, Azashiro lowered his hands. His spiritual pressure wavered. Sweat beaded down his temples.
Zaraki stood again, laughing through the blood. "You're good. But I'm just gettin' started."
Then came the final strike.
Zaraki's reiatsu exploded into golden flame, his madness peaking. He raised Nozarashi, now fully engulfed in violent power, and charged.
Azashiro tried to raise another Bakudō, but he was too slow.
*CRACK!*
The blade shattered through the remnants of his Kidō shield. His defensive layers collapsed like glass under the sheer weight of Zaraki's power. Nozarashi cleaved through the last protection and sent Azashiro flying.
His body struck a boulder, collapsed, and lay still in the crater.
…
"Once again… lost."
Kenpachi Azashiro lay sprawled on the ground, soaked in his own blood. That single thought reverberated in his mind.
He had already lost once today—to Mazuru. That defeat, however, he could tolerate.
Mazuru was the current King of Hueco Mundo, the successor of Aizen Sosuke, and the man who had even toppled Yamamoto Genryusai Shigekuni. His strength was irrefutable, overwhelming, undeniable. Kenpachi Azashiro had fought him not out of arrogance, but out of a desire to confirm the rumors with his own blade.
The result was clear.
Mazuru's power exceeded the boundaries of what a shinigami should be capable of. Kenpachi Azashiro had fled not out of fear, but because he realized the futility. That loss meant little—it wasn't shameful.
But this time… he had lost to Zaraki Kenpachi.
And that was different.
As his body ached and his vision blurred, an old memory resurfaced—one buried beneath decades of bloodshed and isolation.
It was the memory of the Kenpachi he once killed to claim the name. That man, even on the verge of death, had not shown fear. In fact, he had smiled.
He had placed his hopes on Kenpachi Azashiro—the man who bested him. A strange tradition, this Kenpachi legacy: the successor must defeat the predecessor. Survival of the strongest.
'The future shinigami will surpass the past.'
Those were the dying words of his predecessor.
Kenpachi Azashiro had scoffed at the time. He was a pragmatist. The idea that every successor would be stronger sounded like idealistic drivel to him. But… he still followed the tradition. As Captain of the Eleventh Division, he fought on the front lines, never shied away from hollow battles, and did what was expected of a Kenpachi.
Even when the Eleventh Division shunned him—viewing him as a cold and calculated usurper—he endured it. He had even accepted the dying Kenpachi's final request: to let young Gosuke serve as his lieutenant.
What he didn't expect was what happened after he was thrown into Muken.
Instead of selecting the next Kenpachi through battle, the Central 46 appointed Gosuke as the Ninth Kenpachi. Gosuke—weak, indecisive, and completely unworthy.
Predictably, he was killed in short order by the brute from Rukongai: Kiganjo. Thus, the Tenth Kenpachi was born—not from skill, not from legacy, but from chance and brute strength.
Kenpachi Azashiro had long considered Kiganjo and Zaraki Kenpachi unworthy. The former was a fool, and the latter, at the time, had neither Zanpakutō mastery nor Kidō expertise—just a mountain of raw reiatsu and the wildness of a beast.
A dog with a blade.
But then… things changed.
After Karakura Town battle, after Hueco Mundo battle, Zaraki Kenpachi returned with something new—Nozarashi. His Zanpakutō had awakened. He had stepped beyond instinct and into the realm of true power.
It was then that Kenpachi Azashiro took notice.
That was the first moment he began thinking of escaping Muken.
The opportunity arrived unexpectedly. Roka, unknowingly, triggered a ripple when her Negación silk reached Muken and interacted with his seal. With that energy, he fused part of it into his own being and weakened the restraints binding him.
It worked.
He escaped.
With his freedom came clarity. He had two goals.
First: to use the Negación silk combined with his fusion ability to blanket the world and forcibly cleanse humanity of their desires. A horrifying vision of order, yes—but one he believed was necessary.
Second: to face Zaraki Kenpachi, and judge if he was truly worthy of carrying the name.
Now, lying in a crater carved by that very man's blade, he finally had his answer.
"Does failure have meaning… Aizen Sosuke?" he whispered to himself, remembering the words spoken to him during his defection.
Maybe it did.
"Zaraki Kenpachi… you're truly something else." he muttered, coughing up blood. "I admit it. You're worthy of the name Kenpachi."
Zaraki, his body also riddled with wounds, slung Nozarashi over his shoulder and walked over to him.
"I hear you." Zaraki said gruffly. "You're not bad either. That was fun."
Kenpachi Azashiro blinked in surprise. Praise? From him?
But recalling the clash, the force of each blow, and that final release—
"Devour! Nozarashi!"
—the raw surge of golden reiatsu, shattering even Kidō constructs...
Yes, he supposed he could accept that praise.
*Clap. Clap. Clap.*
The sound of slow, deliberate applause broke the moment.
"What a wonderful battle." said a voice from the side.
Zaraki's expression darkened as he whipped around. He saw Ashido still bound, and standing beside him—
Kyo Mazuru.
Eyes narrowing, Zaraki immediately charged, dragging Nozarashi behind him. The ground cracked beneath each step.
With a faint smile, Mazuru didn't even raise a hand. His body shimmered, as if made of mist, and vanished before Zaraki's slash could land.
*Fwoosh!*
The blade hit empty space, carving a long gash in the ground.
"Still too slow." Mazuru's voice echoed.
He reappeared next to Roka, casually grabbing her by the shoulder. His gaze shifted back to the fallen Kenpachi in the distance.
"Still have the strength to move? If you do, follow me."
Kenpachi Azashiro hesitated. He didn't know what Mazuru was planning—but the duel was over, and there was no longer a reason to stay. Besides, Zaraki Kenpachi had proven himself.
With a faint nod, he activated Urazakuro's ability and vanished into the shadows.
Mazuru, with Roka in tow, followed in the same instant, disappearing from Zaraki's sight completely.
Zaraki stared after them, clenching and unclenching his fists.
He hated prey that ran.
With a disgruntled sigh, he turned back toward Ashido, who was still bound by the blood threads from earlier.
"Now what the hell am I supposed to do about this?"
He eyed the seal around Ashido's body.
He wasn't a Kidō specialist. Far from it.
"...Tch. Maybe if I just cut it?"
Zaraki raised Nozarashi, still in its released form, and eyed the seal like a butcher sizing up his next chop.
*****
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