A sea of flame split into countless tributaries—all of it pouring into the Shichikyo Ken (Seven-Mirror Sword), making it feel ever more sacred and untouchable.
"Shichikyo Ken!?" Kyoraku finally noticed the blade in Cole's hand and gaped. "How are you using the Seven-Mirror Sword!?"
That sacred ritual blade should answer only to the Ise shrine-maidens. He'd tried to commune with it before; no matter what he did, the artifact never so much as stirred.
"I smacked it around and it started behaving," Cole said offhandedly, eyes shining as he studied the sword. "Gotta say, this thing is amazing."
One bankai slash from Ryūjin Jakka—heat pushing toward five million degrees—had been stymied by the artifact.
Seeing a miss, Ryūjin Jakka didn't bother swinging again. Its white-hot eyes fixed hungrily on Senjumaru. "Woman. You're next."
Sensing danger, Senjumaru's six golden skeletal arms wove together. Scarlet defensive drapes unfurled—only to be incinerated in an instant as Ryūjin Jakka's blade fell.
"Kō (Radiance)!!"
Scorching flames seemed to set half the sky ablaze. Senjumaru's figure was swallowed by fire. All Seireitei sweltered; heatwaves drenched shinigami in sweat.
In Seventh Division, Ichigo—still in bull-horned Hollow form—paused from chasing Zangetsu to squint up. "Why is it so hot!?" He gritted through the heat and charged on. "Zangetsu-san, stop running!"
"So hot…" Rukia wiped her brow, staring at the crimson sky. The blaze looked ready to burn through heaven itself. Though she was hundreds of meters from the core, the heat beat at her like a wall, threatening to mummify her on the spot.
"Not quite," Unohana smiled, eyes on the glowing firmament. "This still isn't the Head Captain's true bankai form. Call it his 'normal' state. Zanka no Tachi's (Blade of Remaining Flame) real might is far beyond this."
Rukia turned, stunned. "Captain Unohana, how do you know?"
"Because he used bankai to defeat me once," Unohana said gently.
Minazuki chimed in, sing-song: "And my mistress was not amused. There's no fun in that kind of fight."
Rukia nodded—and ran to Cole, worry written all over her face. "Cole, what do we do?"
Sode no Shirayuki slid free in Rukia's hands, air plummeting in temperature. "If Cole and I fight together, with my zettai reido (Absolute Zero) and his power, we can suppress Ryūjin Jakka."
Heat is practically unbounded—but cold has a floor. Below absolute zero, she believed she could endure even the Head Captain's flames for a time.
Cole, still fussing with the Shichikyo Ken, nearly jumped out of his skin. He rushed over and gave Shirayuki a brisk swat on the rear. "Are you trying to die? One swing from the old man and your 'absolute zero' will be at—what—tens of thousands of degrees."
Absolute zero might be the world's minimum temperature—in theory. Reality? Ryūjin Jakka would cleave it apart with raw reiatsu. Under that instant spike, even a body akin to ice could melt—shatter—turn to sleet and steam.
Face flushed, Shirayuki pounced and bit Cole's shoulder. "Bad Cole…"
Rukia eyed her, a bit envious, then looked back toward the center where Senjumaru battled, anxiety rising. "Then… what should we do now?"
Cole slung an arm around each of them. "Relax. Come watch from over there. Might be the best fight you'll ever see."
He carried them to a ridgeline overlooking the field.
From here, the view was brutal and clear—wildfire like an ocean, sparks sprinkling the sky, air wavering into mirage from unimaginable heat.
Within that boundless blaze, Ryūjin Jakka's figure fused with fire, blade whirling as its laughter rolled.
"Come on, woman! In all these thousand years, I don't think I've ever seen you use bankai. I'll flatten you first—then I'm off to settle with Kirinji Tenjiro and Nimaya Ōetsu. I won't spare either. And that big monk—I'll see just how strong he really is! Hahahahaha!"
Each cut brought a deluge of flame. Of Senjumaru's six golden skeletal arms, two were hewn off, three melted—only one remained. That lone arm thrust a needle-slim blade, sparks flaring at the tip—but nothing bit Ryūjin Jakka. Again and again she was driven back, brocade scorched to black, face paint charred—like a survivor clawed from a furnace.
Panting, Senjumaru ground to a halt and glared. "You've grown bold, Ryūjin Jakka. You really think you can keep me from acting…?"
She'd joined the Royal Guard three thousand years ago—before Genryusai was even born. And now his sword had pushed her this far. The thought alone made her seethe.
Teeth bared, she hissed, "Tenjiro. Ōetsu. Kirio. Can you hear me? I'm going to release my zanpakuto. If I don't, someone's coming to storm the Royal Realm."
"..."
"Lady Senjumaru looks awful…" Rukia and Shirayuki traded worried looks—then turned back, only to find Cole staring—eyes bright—at the blazing execution phoenix wheeling overhead.
"Rukia, Shirayuki—how about I make that big bird my mount?" he asked, delighted.
They almost fainted. That was the execution phoenix of the Sōkyoku (Double-Punishment Halberd). Since Seireitei's founding, who knew how many had perished to its flaming beak. And Cole wanted to ride it?
"Wait, Cole! Too dangerous!" Rukia shouted. The Sōkyoku was fully released—its destructive power rivaled or even surpassed most bankai.
Cole didn't care. He vaulted—and landed on the phoenix's blazing back, flesh sizzling. Blade in one hand, staff in the other—he struck.
Thump!
The Sōkyoku reeled, the phoenix of fire plummeting like a falling sun. Halfway down, it recovered with a furious cry, wings flaring as it arrowed skyward like a fire-meteor, trying to shake the lunatic on its back.
Cole sat rock-steady, tapping its skull like a wooden fish with the Ruyi Jingu Bang. He didn't use the Shichikyo Ken here—too temperamental. If it cut the phoenix to death, there went his ride.
Another crack landed. The phoenix screamed, then simply folded its wings and dive-bombed.
BOOM!
Earth erupted into a vast crater. The Sōkyoku exploded into a storm of embers.
Cole touched down by the rim, blinking at the fire-rain. "Rukia, what the heck? Did it just… kill itself?"
"Not suicide!" Rukia ran up, panicked. "The Sōkyoku can infinitely reconstitute. Run!"
Even as she spoke, the sparks flocked, fusing back into the phoenix—an incandescent sun of a bird. It shrieked, wings snapping open as its beak lunged for Cole. The air wailed at the pressure of the charge.
Cole grinned, tightened his grip on the Ruyi Jingu Bang, and shouted, "Ō! Ō! Ō!" The staff shot up—hundreds of meters tall, dozens wide—then slammed down.
With a single thundering crack, the sky-filling phoenix shattered—blaze into rain, shockwaves rippling out so hard Rukia's and Shirayuki's hair flew straight up. They stared, dazzled—fire like falling stars, a terrible beauty—more shocked still that Cole could swat the Sōkyoku into cinders with one blow.
Elsewhere, as Senjumaru faltered, Kyoraku and the others had no choice but to step in. Facing a wall of fire, Kyoraku pressed his straw hat with a sigh. "Never thought I'd live to fight the old man's bankai. What a world."
Soi Fong bit down. "We can't let Ryūjin Jakka run wild."
In the few minutes since its bankai, Seireitei's temperature had climbed ten degrees—a giant steamer. The First Division, closest, had already burst into spontaneous flame. If this continued, Seireitei would be annihilated.
Ukitake coughed weakly, raising his palm toward the blaze. "Don't engage Ryūjin Jakka directly. Support only. Leave the rest to Sensei and Senjumaru."
Light blossomed on his hand. "Ikazuchi no norimono, itomaki no sukima, kono mono wa hikari—murete hitotsu ni nare! (Carriage of thunder, gap of the spinning wheel, gather into light and become one!)
Bakudō #61—Rikujōkōrō (Six Rods Prison of Light)!"
Six golden panels appeared and slammed into Ryūjin Jakka from six angles.
The other captains followed suit.
"Scatter, bone of beasts; tower, red crystal, steel wheel. Heed the wind; look to the sky. Let the clash of lances resound through the city of hollows!
Hadō #63—Raikōhō (Thunder Roar Cannon)!"
"O sovereign! Mask of flesh and blood, fluttering wings—Thou who bears the name of Man! Inscribe upon the wall of blue flame twin lotuses; await the abyssal conflagration in the distant sky!
Hadō #73—Sōren Sōkatsui (Twin Lotus Blue Fire, Crash Down)!"
"Tetsusha no kabe, sōgyō no tō, shaku-tetsu kakukaku, shōzen ni itari!
Bakudō #75—Gochūtekkan (Five-Pillar Iron Seal)!"
"Hiin, kumoru monshō—ke'ao naru sainō; shio afure, hitei, mabui, hitotoki—sameyō!
Horobiyuku tetsu no hime, jibaku suru doro ningyō—ketsugō, hantai, chōshin! Jishin no muyoku o shire!
Hadō #90—Kurohitsugi (Black Coffin)!"
In an instant, kido layered the battlefield—blue meteors fell, gold thunder crashed, five giant pillars bit from the air, and a black coffin declared death. Dust and glare swallowed Ryūjin Jakka's form.
Seizing the moment, new golden arms budded behind Senjumaru—scores, then hundreds—interlacing into a vast golden net. Charred from head to toe, she hurled the net over the Black Coffin and snarled, "Tenjiro! I told you not to come—kill yourself, now!"
Only with a blood-pact sacrifice could she briefly break her seals. Tenjiro, the Eastern Divine General, refused—hearing Ryūjin Jakka's challenge had him itching to come to Soul Society instead, which nearly made her explode.
The golden net cinched tight, its suppression and sealing force binding the coffin hard. Seeing the layered kido and Senjumaru's weave, many shinigami exhaled—perhaps, at least, Ryūjin Jakka could be sealed for a moment.
They relaxed too soon.
From within a barrier that should have transmitted nothing, Ryūjin Jakka's anger boomed:
"Did you think filth like you could seal me!?"
"Zanka no Tachi: Higashi—Kyokujitsujin (East — Rising Sun Blade)!"
A single clear ding—like something touching earth. And then—BOOM.
Hundreds of woven kido-seals sheared apart in an instant—erased, as if they had never been. All things reduced to nothing.
(End of Chapter)
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