"Ice-type zanpakuto… there are still two left…"
The shinigami present felt their eyes brighten.
Ordinarily, ice restrains fire—but that logic collapses before the Head-Captain's power. They didn't need to defeat the Head-Captain himself; all they needed was to pin Ryūjin Jakka (Flowing Blade-like Flame) for three seconds.
Three seconds. If they planned this right, maybe—just maybe—they could seal it.
Perched atop the flaming wings of the Destroyer-King, Cole heard their whispers and arched a brow. "If I were you, I wouldn't."
Shunsui frowned. "Why?"
"What do you mean 'why'?" Cole looked at them, speechless. "Do I really have to explain how absurdly strong the old man is?"
Back in his previous life watching the anime, he'd always believed Genryusai was invincible—the ceiling of the Bleach world. Aizen, cunning almost to the point of monstrosity, nearly toppled the entire Seireitei—yet even he had to take Genryusai off the board first.
And in the Thousand-Year Blood War… even Yhwach, with his 'all-knowing, all-powerful,' still chose treachery to kill the old man.
All of it proved just how terrifying Genryusai truly was.
Two ice-type zanpakuto to handle him? Sheer delusion.
"The old man's power can't be that overwhelming… we only need three seconds," Shunsui muttered, unsure. Disciple of the Head-Captain or not, he had never truly witnessed Genryusai at his peak.
Toshiro gritted his teeth. "Cole, don't underestimate me. I'm a captain of the Gotei as well."
Ryūjin Jakka's display had been horrifying—but he was the master of the strongest ice-type zanpakuto. Surely he could hold it for a few seconds.
Rukia nodded, resolute. "Trust me, Cole. I'll merge with Sode no Shirayuki. Under absolute zero, no flame can harm me."
Seeing their resolve, Shunsui steeled himself. "Cole, don't worry. They attack from range. If danger comes, I'll protect them with everything I've got."
"…Fine." Cole relented, but he didn't leave. He stood right beside Rukia and Toshiro, one hand lightly stroking the Destroyer-King's blazing pinions.
After a quick plan, Shunsui shouted: "Move!"
Toshiro raised Hyōrinmaru and, without hesitation, unleashed his strongest strike in shikai:
"Hyouryū Senbi: Zekku (Ice Dragon: Empty Sky)!"
White cold surged outward, birthing glaciers and mountains of ice as the chill spread madly across the field.
Rukia clasped hands with Sode no Shirayuki and fused. Her temperature plunged visibly. Her black shihakusho paled to pure white; her dark hair silvered; her pupils turned violet, emotion fading from her gaze. Absolute zero spilled from her body—an ice-born saint in human shape.
She lifted her blade, voice calm.
"Sennen Hyōrō (Thousand-Year Ice Prison)!"
In an instant, the ground ahead—Ryūjin Jakka included—froze solid, sealed within a heaven-piercing pillar of frost.
The other shinigami didn't dare hesitate; kido flared one after another.
But a heartbeat later, the flame within the ice stirred. Fire seethed across Ryūjin Jakka's body, melting glacier and pillar alike at a pace visible to the naked eye. Steam rolled out like a smothering fog.
"You lot really have a death wish."
Ryūjin Jakka's white-hot eyes blazed with fury. For Genryusai's sake, it had spared these shinigami again and again—yet they still dared to meddle.
Sweat beaded on Toshiro's brow. He swung Hyōrinmaru for all he was worth, raising mountain after mountain of ice. Rukia poured herself into absolute zero, the cold racing outward.
Between the two of them, the temperature truly dropped.
Seizing the moment, Senjumaru's reiatsu surged. She sprinted forward, nearly a thousand golden skeletal arms weaving behind her. Light flashed—dazzling, relentless. In less than three seconds, she had crafted over a hundred garments and wrapped them all around Ryūjin Jakka. The outermost layer was a straitjacket with four unyielding straps, binding the hundred-plus robes tight.
Senjumaru exhaled, wiping cold sweat from her brow. "It should hold for a few minutes."
Each garment suppressed spiritual power, drinking it in—like Kenpachi's eyepatch, but a hundred times stronger.
Toshiro and Rukia both breathed out. Once the Head-Captain arrived, they could fully subdue this out-of-control zanpakuto.
They hadn't finished exhaling before a voice rumbled from within robe and kido alike—cold and ancient:
"Zanka no Tachi, Nishi—Zanjitsu Gokui (Longsword of the Remnant Flame, West—Remnant Sun Prison Garb)."
Hundreds of spirit-sealing garments glowed red in an instant, radiance bright as a noonday sun. Dozens of icy peaks sizzled, sloughed to water, flashed to steam—and then even the steam was burned away.
Toshiro's eyes flew wide. "He evaporated every water molecule…!"
Hyōrinmaru commanded the weather, yes—but only because it could rule the water in the air. That was how it birthed ice. Now, the water had been burned out of the very air, and the dryness was spreading. Even oxygen thinned.
Under those conditions, the 'strongest ice-type zanpakuto' was little better than scrap metal.
"…This won't work," Rukia said coolly.
The next second, her absolute-zero body shattered. Her temperature spiked unnaturally; in barely two seconds it shot from two hundred below to ten above. Sode no Shirayuki's form was forced free, the two women paling as their bodies swayed and toppled—only for Cole to catch them both.
He sighed. "You two little dummies—now you see your limits."
Tears pooled in Rukia's eyes. "Cole, the Head-Captain is terrifying… like a demon. Everything hurts."
Sode no Shirayuki clung pitifully to Cole's shoulder. "It hurts, I feel like I'm going to snap…"
Her bankai form worked directly on the body; its strength was matched by the frailty it imposed. The violent rise in temperature had nearly shattered it outright.
Cole couldn't help a laugh. He flicked each of their foreheads. "Remember this. Go beg Orihime later—she'll fix you up with no lingering damage."
Only because Inoue Orihime's power trespassed on the realm of the gods would they recover from a bankai forcibly broken like that. Otherwise, the damage might have lasted a lifetime.
Both women nodded tearfully.
Meanwhile, the hundreds of robes on Ryūjin Jakka blazed like miniature suns—then actual flame crawled across them, as if they would be ash the next breath.
Seeing this, Soi fong's eyes sharpened with killing intent. She glanced at her own blade, then shot forward.
"No choice—we kill Ryūjin Jakka."
Her right hand thrust like a queen bee's sting—two strikes, and the foe dies. Two hits of Nigeki Kessatsu (Two-Strike Surekill) should be enough to end Ryūjin Jakka.
As for what the Head-Captain would do without his zanpakuto… deal with that later.
Cole's scalp prickled. "You yuri idiot, are you crazy!?"
He didn't even spare a hand for Rukia and Sode no Shirayuki—he flashed forward, a streak of black, and swept Soi fong into his arms three hundred meters short of Ryūjin Jakka.
She stared at him in shock. "How did you… catch up!?"
She hadn't slowed. Yet he'd overtaken her hoho. Had he reached Yoruichi-sama's level…?
"Is this the time to chat!?" Cole scowled and bonked the petite beauty on the head. "Are you trying to die!?"
Face flushing, Soi fong struggled. "I only meant to kill Ryūjin Jakka. We can't let it rampage like this."
From the first moment, the temperature had been rising—oppressive at first, now suffocating. Breathing felt like swallowing fire. If this continued, who knew about Soul Society—but the shinigami of Seireitei would be roasted alive.
Cole's mouth twitched. He lifted her right hand and eyed Suzumebachi. "You plan to poke the Head-Captain to death with this?"
"Can't I?" she fired back, still flushed. Even she knew how impossible it sounded—but she had never seen anyone withstand Suzumebachi's mark.
Cole drew breath to retort—then the heatwave crashed over them, so fierce even he felt aflame.
Ryūjin Jakka had shed its bindings. Garments that could restrain a hundred captains fell to ash. A body of living flame donned a cloak of fire once more—a god walking out of the blaze, heat so absolute it felt like the incarnation of the sun.
It strode forward, voice like an iron verdict as it fixed on Senjumaru:
"Zanka no Tachi, Nishi—Zanjitsu Gokui (West—Remnant Sun Prison Garb). Fifteen million degrees—hotter than the sun's heart. And you thought two little outfits could bind me?"
"Don't insult me."
Cold sweat ran down Senjumaru's face. She cursed Tenjiro in her heart. Bastard. Absolute bastard. Why was it so hard for him to sacrifice himself already?
Cole swallowed—but found his mouth bone-dry. "If not for my reiatsu barrier, I think my blood would've evaporated already…"
He glanced at the girl in his arms, teasing despite himself. "This is the thing you were going to assassinate?"
Even at three hundred meters, he felt ready to be boiled alive. If Soi fong had closed the gap, she'd have turned to cinders before landing Suzumebachi's second sting.
She realized the same, face growing pale. Clutching Cole's clothes, she rasped, "Cole, go. I underestimated the Head-Captain. If we stay, my body water will evaporate…"
Just three seconds in this heat and she felt moisture fleeing her flesh—saliva, fat, blood—everything leaching away, as if she'd be smoked into a desiccated husk.
Cole looked down and blinked. "Soi fong, you've got crow's-feet."
She nearly exploded, weakly thumping his chest. "Give it two more seconds and you'll see age spots and wrinkles—move!"
Dehydration turned skin loose and papery—soon she'd be nothing but skin and bone.
Cole nodded and began to retreat.
Ryūjin Jakka wouldn't let him. Its gaze slid to the woman in his arms. "Second Division Captain. You intended to kill me?"
Blade raised, it cleaved down in the mantle of the Remnant Sun.
"I told you: do not meddle."
"Zanka no Tachi, Kita—Tenchi Kaijin (North—Heaven and Earth Reduced to Ash)!"
Scarlet flame roared into a flying edge, scything the world. Stone, buildings—everything on its path—vanished without trace.
Soi fong trembled in Cole's arms, pupils dilating. "Cole—leave me! Run!"
She had never seen anything like it—an attack that could sever Seireitei itself. That wasn't a power mortals could resist. It was apocalypse.
Cole ignored her, licking his lips. He grabbed her with his left hand and hurled her backward. "That's a life saved. You can pay me back later—be my ox, my horse, whatever."
She shot away, staring at Cole in disbelief. "You're insane!"
Under a thousand eyes, Cole tightened both hands around a long staff shining like the sun. He stepped into the blood-red blaze and swung down with all his might.
"I told you—"
"Stop messing with me!"
(End of Chapter)
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