The power of a Kidō spell varies drastically depending on the spiritual pressure of its user.
Shimo was the perfect example.
As someone who had brought Kidō to its absolute limit, the spells he cast already stood above those of the vast majority of Shinigami.
And because of the sheer intensity of his spiritual pressure, even a Kidō cast without incantation could surpass the power of a fully chanted spell used by some captain-class Shinigami.
Which meant—
Aizen's attack this time was absolutely capable of destroying all of Karakura Town.
Its overwhelming force blanketed the sky above the city.
The Shinigami below wore grim expressions, pouring spiritual pressure into the dimensional transfer pillars even faster than before.
If this Hadō #99 struck Karakura Town in its current state, the entire city would collapse beyond recovery.
And once that happened, the transfer pillars would lose all purpose.
At that point, the real Karakura Town would descend—
And Aizen would be able to carry out his plan.
To create the Ōken.
While attacking Shimo, he was simultaneously pushing his own plan forward.
Aizen was still Aizen.
He had never once allowed failure to shake his mentality.
Faced with the ferocious dragon roaring across the horizon, Shimo's expression barely changed.
Its might was astonishing, and it did place considerable pressure on him.
But in Shimo's eyes, all of Aizen's attacks that relied on mere form held no real meaning.
For him, even a Hadō #99 was inferior to a single tangible slash.
Because that dragon, constructed entirely from spiritual pressure—had already clearly appeared within the world Shimo perceived.
Crimson threads of time coiled tightly around its vast body.
Purple and gold intertwined, dazzling to behold.
But—
Shimo's eyes shifted, their patterns revolving like the face of a clock.
He gently raised Shimo, and along the blood-red blade emerged a faint golden hue, like the first light of dawn.
Beneath the sky filled with ink-black, materialized spiritual pressure, the blade cut through the darkness and came slashing down head-on.
Roar!
The pale-violet dragon twisted across the heavens, its immense body writhing as it whipped up a savage storm and swept toward Shimo!
BOOOOM!!!
The roar was like the splitting of heaven and earth itself, echoing throughout the World of the Living.
Several nearby cities were shaken by the deafening thunder of that collision.
Aizen had been absolutely certain of victory with this attack.
His spiritual pressure, having surpassed both Shinigami and Hollow—was fully unleashed!
And yet—
Something happened that he had never anticipated.
The moment the thunderous clash ended, the pale-violet dragon began to collapse into nothingness.
What was going on?!
Aizen's breathing caught, and his expression changed involuntarily.
Starting from the dragon's head, its reishi crumbled away in great swathes, like an avalanche.
And the rate of disintegration only grew faster and faster.
Like snow under a blazing sun—
It offered no resistance at all.
"Why…"
Aizen's voice carried the edge of final madness.
"Why does your slash possess such terrifying power?"
Shimo lowered his blade again, his expression as calm as ever.
"So this… is your Zanpakutō's true Shikai ability?"
Aizen's gaze darkened, his emotions edging closer to collapse.
Shimo had no desire to explain.
The dragon's destruction was simple enough: he had severed the threads of its time.
He had erased it from the very source of its existence.
If one insisted on making a comparison, the power resembled Baraggan Louisenbairn's authority over aging—
Only far more absolute, far more tyrannical.
Baraggan's power of decay could still be countered by forbidden Kidō that halted time.
But Shimo's severing of time itself was a higher, stronger domination over time.
Shimo lifted his gaze and looked at Aizen.
The clocklike patterns turning in his eyes reflected the chaotic storm of thought within Aizen's mind.
And the instant their eyes met—
Aizen's heartbeat stopped dead, as though it had frozen in place.
Those eyes…
Aizen clenched his teeth, trying to use the Hōgyoku's power to comprehend the existence before him.
But the instant his spiritual pressure reached out—
It began to disintegrate.
Just as Goryūtenmetsu had done moments ago.
There was no warning. No sign at all.
Aizen was shaken to the core, unable to understand what he had just witnessed.
"What…"
If the collapse of his spiritual pressure during an earlier clash could still be rationalized—
Then what was happening now had completely surpassed the limits of his understanding.
Was this truly the power of time?!
But he too had mastered the forbidden Kidō—Time Stop.
So why was it utterly useless!
Ever since the battle with Shimo began, Aizen had been continuously maintaining that forbidden Kidō state.
And even so—
He still could not resist this devouring power of time.
The most terrifying part was this:
After fully merging with the Hōgyoku, Aizen was certain he had completely shattered the boundary between Shinigami and Hollow, transcending the dimension that contained them both.
Even in terms of spiritual pressure, he should now stand on the same plane as Shimo.
Yet under those conditions—
How could his full-powered Hadō #99 be destroyed by a slash that appeared utterly ordinary?
After erasing Goryūtenmetsu, Shimo once again experienced just how terrifying his third Shikai truly was.
This power, utterly unreasonable and beyond all conventional logic, had already stepped into the domain of a true god.
Now that Aizen's attack had been nullified—
The next step was to attempt the final move.
Because of the clocklike patterns in Shimo's eyes, Aizen could no longer read anything of Shimo's state of mind from his gaze.
But the instinct emanating from the Hōgyoku told him one thing with absolute certainty:
Shimo had already resolved to kill him.
Holding the long, blood-red blade, Shimo began to walk slowly toward Aizen.
With every step he took closer, Aizen narrowed his eyes further, desperately drawing up more and more spiritual pressure in an attempt to block the next strike.
And then—
When Shimo was less than ten meters away, he suddenly stopped.
His hands moved lightly through the air, like those of a pianist gliding over unseen keys.
At once, a nameless sense of disaster surged through Aizen's heart—
As though he would vanish in the very next instant.
But instead, Shimo frowned slightly.
And inwardly, he thought:
If I completely cut Aizen's thread of time…
…it might trigger consequences beyond imagination.
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