Chapter 82: The Fall of the Giant Dragon
"Faster! Everyone, faster!"
"All medical teams, keep up! Do not fall behind!"
"Eleventh Division, even without Captain Kenpachi, we show our spirit and reach the battlefield first!"
"Oh oh oh oh oh!"
Mayuri Kurotsuchi's emergency alarm swept through the entire force.
Squad members surged toward the Fifth Division like a closing net, drawn by the violent pressure shaking the sky. The closer they ran, the more that terrifying reiatsu pressed down on their bodies, making their hearts and limbs tremble against their will.
And yet, they also sensed something else.
Captain level spiritual pressures were converging at high speed, like blades rushing toward the same target.
If the Captains were charging in together, then what was there to fear?
Then an unprecedented tremor struck.
It felt like a current spearing through the heart.
Almost everyone rushing forward jolted and stopped. Hot blood cooled on the spot. Shouts died mid syllable. Those who had been knocked unconscious earlier snapped awake as if slapped by the air itself.
All of them looked up.
They stared at the black abyss that had ripped open the sky.
They stared at what rose from the earth shortly after that abyss vanished.
A dragon.
"I have been wanting to ask…" someone whispered, voice shaking. "Which Captain is fighting that thing right now?"
"It is not a Captain."
A seated officer from the Fifth Division shook his head, his tone hollow with shock.
"That is… Takeru."
The instant the dragon climbed into the heavens, countless people heard that name for the first time.
Not a genius.
Not a prodigy.
Not a first year from the Spirit Arts Academy.
But a powerhouse.
That dragon, at a glance, felt like the torn sky itself.
Fifty meters long. Slender, but never thin, like a body cast from steel. Its wings spread like blades, sharp enough to split wind. The main color was black, yet when sunlight struck it, the scales reflected a silver blue glow, hazy and dreamlike.
Moonlight.
And yet its silhouette was pure aggression, overflowing with the aura of destruction.
Steel and fairy tale. Black dragon and moonlight. Industrial cruelty stitched to something almost mythic. It should have felt chaotic, mismatched, wrong.
But it did not.
At least, Arturo Plateado did not think so.
Compared to Hueco Mundo's grotesque Hollows, the dragon before him was power crystallized into a single shape. It was nothing like simply gathering reiatsu and swinging it as an attack. This was something else entirely.
"Compressing Bankai into high density spirit particle armor is not enough," Arturo said, eyes narrowed. "You turned even flesh and blood into armor?"
"Without it," Takeru replied, his voice carrying from above, "where would I find the strength to keep fighting?"
The roles had reversed. Now Takeru hovered in the sky, looking down at his enemy.
When the armor shatters, all power is burned into a single fatal blow. If the enemy still refuses to die, then the only option left is to fight with the strength that keeps you alive.
It was a brutally simple logic.
Even if both body and Zanpakuto were at the limit, as long as he could still breathe, then there was still something left.
But turning that remnant into a single technique would only self destruct.
So the best option was fusion.
Fusing with a Zanpakuto was never supposed to be easy.
Yet in a state of exhaustion, neither he nor his Zanpakuto had the spare strength to reject the other. Instead, they cooperated, because surviving together was the only path forward.
Add in the Fairy Tale Dragon Blood flowing through his veins. Add in the fact that his Bankai's original form was armor, something meant to cover and cling to the body. It was already integrated.
So pushing further, fusing flesh and Zanpakuto, and shaping it into dragon armor, became natural.
Yes.
This massive dragon body was armor.
Just thicker.
And that exaggerated mass brought the matching hardness of spiritual pressure. Its baseline performance now far surpassed the first stage battle suit.
Boom.
Takeru's high altitude dive, simple and unadorned, hit harder than Arturo's earlier Cero that had obliterated the lake. The ground split across a wide area. The tremor rolled outward like an earthquake. Dust surged up in a monstrous wave.
Seeing that, Arturo abandoned the idea of fighting on the ground entirely.
In the dust, two silver blue lights ignited.
The giant dragon's eyes.
The next moment, a colossal figure tore through the dust at lightning speed. Arturo dodged and slashed as they passed.
A screech of friction. Sparks sprayed across the sky. They brushed past each other in a single streak.
Arturo glanced at his blade, then narrowed his eyes at a shallow crack on the dragon's body. The wound was already nearly repaired. His expression turned heavy.
"After merging with flesh, your body became something like living metal," he murmured. "A normal slash barely bites. No bleeding. And it repairs itself like it is alive."
"Your reiatsu has not increased compared to earlier, but your combat power in this form is clearly higher."
His gaze sharpened further.
"On my side, however…"
Takeru's dragon face twisted into something that looked almost human, almost mocking.
"What is wrong?" he scoffed. "Used Super Regeneration too much, and now you are running low?"
Arturo inhaled, then suddenly asked, "If you knew I had Super Regeneration, why did you cut off my arm?"
"Because I wanted your sword," Takeru answered bluntly. "I wanted to see if stripping it would reduce your combat power. You, however, seem more worried about the arm."
Arturo did not deny it. His voice turned cold.
"Because I do not want anyone, especially someone like you, to hold a piece of my body. Even if it is to be discarded, I will discard it myself."
"It can be a safeguard. I did not expect it to matter, but now…" His eyes tightened. "Now I see it was all within your calculations. That safeguard was forced into use."
Takeru did not look away.
Arturo continued, his tone growing grim, as if each sentence cut deeper into his own pride.
"You wanted me to fight without relying on the restraints. You made your words careless on purpose."
"You attacked my arm without hesitation, meaning you did not value the restraint suit's defensive power."
"You said what you said to bait me. You attacked my head on purpose."
"It was all to create the illusion that you would only target my head. And because of that illusion, I allowed you to sever my limbs, and I nearly lost my sword."
Takeru admitted it without flinching.
"Yes. Because once I closed in, I noticed the tear on your chest."
Arturo's expression darkened.
Takeru pressed forward with words like strikes, as if trying to crush him before the next clash.
"That restraint suit covers the whole body. It is meant to seal a prisoner's movement through Bakudo, but without the Bakudo seal, it is simply tough."
"My companion hit you from behind, but he was in poor condition. He used a powerful move too quickly. That slash was mediocre."
"After barely breaking through your overflowing reiatsu, the damage was reduced by ninety percent. So I judged this."
"Physical strength and blade sharpness alone cannot rip through a restraint suit designed to bind a high level Menos Grande."
He paused, then his eyes glowed brighter.
"So here is the problem."
"If there are signs of tearing on your chest, then the restraint suit can be torn. Physical attacks simply do not work."
"My attacks are Kidō based slashes. My armor is also extremely dense reiatsu, meaning it is a spirit particle type attack."
"Breaking through the restraint suit was never the issue."
"I just thought targeting the head or heart was more efficient, so I did not bother testing the suit directly. Better to use it to mislead you."
"And it worked."
"After your head blew off, even after Resurreccion, you protected your head first. You took my punch and reduced protection elsewhere."
"At first I thought it was trauma, a conditioned reflex. But now that your reiatsu has dropped this far, I understand."
"Super Regeneration has a cost."
"To repair a Zanpakuto, to repair a mask, these are like external organs. They consume more power."
"So you would avoid having your head destroyed again. You would avoid having your Zanpakuto taken."
"But you failed."
"Your head and your sword were both damaged once, and your head twice."
"Now your reiatsu is not even a third of what it was."
The dragon's face carried a clear, almost cruel satisfaction.
Arturo exhaled slowly.
"Indeed."
Then he smiled, sharp and confident.
"Let me tell you something. That tear on the restraint suit was made by me."
"The purpose was to store the Hogyoku and another divine artifact. But because of you, both were lost to the Garganta."
"It does not matter," Takeru said, smoke like sparks puffing from his nostrils. His eyes burned. "After killing you, there are plenty of ways to find them."
"You are right." Arturo's smile widened.
"Rebirth, Immortal King."
Takeru was not surprised to see Arturo enter Resurreccion again.
But then the wings behind Arturo turned iridescent. His spiritual pressure surged further, twisting the air into shimmering heat haze.
The sword in Arturo's hand vanished. In its place formed two reishi light swords. It was as if he had returned to his true form entirely, without a Zanpakuto.
"I suppressed Yamamoto Genryusai with this appearance two thousand years ago," Arturo said, voice steady with pride.
"Two thousand years have passed. I have not seen him again."
"But I have met another unreasonable, terrifying man."
"Whether this is fate's challenge or not…"
Arturo lifted both blades and took an aggressive stance in mid air, eyes locked on the black dragon.
"I will accept it."
"And I will give everything."
"Is that so?"
Takeru also released his power completely. Silver blue reiatsu flooded his whole body, bright enough to stain the air. It was clear now. Even in this transformed body, he had been refining and adapting, sharpening his control in silence.
"Then I should tell you the victor's name before you die."
"I feel the same."
"Takeru."
"Arturo Plateado."
"Let us go. Twice."
Whether man or dragon, wrapped in reiatsu, there was no difference.
They collided like two comets meeting head on.
Boom.
No tricks. No hesitation.
A brutal clash.
Takeru's dragon claws shattered. Arturo's light swords broke apart.
Neither showed weakness. Both roared and charged again.
Arturo had always claimed he sought battles of blood and fire, scorning mere survival killing. Yet what unfolded now was the most primitive slaughter imaginable.
Takeru relied on raw physical strength, beating his wings and flinging Arturo away.
Arturo retaliated by crossing his twin blades, a stance that looked defensive but was actually gathering power.
A massive X shaped projectile detonated outward, focusing spirit particles like a lens igniting flame.
There was no room to dodge.
An X shaped explosion blossomed against Takeru's body. A huge gap tore open. His wings were blasted apart.
Yet there was no bleeding. No cry of pain that should have followed such injury.
Arturo, breathing heavily, still forced himself into another shot.
Takeru made a decision. He opened his mouth.
A bottomless, pitch black throat filled with silver blue light.
Then a thick silver blue torrent erupted.
Arturo tried to evade, but the closer the torrent came, the more it dispersed, covering most of the sky.
This was wrong.
He sensed it instantly and searched for the cause.
Then he saw it.
The torrent engulfing him was not even spirit particles.
It was tiny crystals, like fragments of stars, filling the air in a dazzling, magnificent storm.
But Arturo felt death in it.
Boom boom boom boom.
All the crystals detonated at once.
The sky burned. The heavens turned red.
The spectacle could be seen from anywhere in Seireitei.
This was Star Ash, inherited from Fairy Tale Dragon Blood, released through Takeru's breath. Once an enemy was engulfed, it would detonate.
It did not harm him because it required a specific range and proximity to trigger properly. It was not a simple explosion. It was a hunt.
Arturo discovered it quickly, forced his way out of the detonation zone, and fired a Cero mid flight.
Takeru answered with his own breath and pressure.
For a time, the battle became a storm of exchanges. It was hard to believe only two beings could create such devastation.
Then Arturo suddenly noticed something. He cut off his own Cero and stared at his arm, disbelief twisting his face.
"Found it?"
Takeru also stopped breathing. The technique consumed too much power, and he had only been buying time for self repair. In dragon form his reiatsu hardness was greater, and damage could mend itself like the wear and tear of No Defense.
But as the offensive half of ultimate offense and defense integration, he had more than endurance.
Arturo's voice shook.
"My wounds… are not healing?"
The parts damaged by Star Ash showed no recovery at all.
Super Regeneration had not vanished.
It felt sealed.
Arturo knew that sensation too well. From opponents he had crushed. From two thousand years of imprisonment. There was no mistaking it.
"Sealed…" he muttered. "Is it the inverse application of that defensive power you had in human form?"
He was correct.
In this mode, Takeru could seal an enemy's abilities.
At the cost of No Defense, Positive and Negative.
Ignoring damage, and leaving a mark after armor break to ensure the next strike hits with perfect accuracy. Those two core effects were sacrificed.
In exchange, he sealed one ability that represented offense or defense. If an enemy lacked such an ability, their offense and defense still dropped.
Against Arturo, Takeru chose two targets.
Super Regeneration, the symbol of defense.
And spiritual particle absorption, the symbol of offense.
The former stopped further revival.
The latter was Arturo's greatest advantage.
"Absorbing spirit particles from the atmosphere during battle is what gives you such absurd Super Regeneration efficiency," Takeru said, voice merciless. "After killing an opponent, you absorb their power and grow stronger."
"So whether it is Super Regeneration or your absolute strength, both trace back to that special absorption ability."
He tore the secret into the open.
"Without absorption, even at your peak, you could not revive from a single arm. At most, you could recover certain fatal wounds."
"But now you cannot even do that."
"No reishi, no healing."
"Your life is slipping away like sand through an hourglass, like a candle that can go out at any moment."
Arturo's shock turned to fury.
"What?"
First, impossible defense. Now, stripping his greatest advantage.
Takeru surged forward again, wings beating, turning into a silver blue comet.
"Call it shameless if you want," he said, voice sharp. "I will not hold back anyway."
Arturo's condition worsened with every injury, and he had already spent enormous power earlier to repair himself. Even with the boost of a second Resurreccion, only his destructive power remained truly terrifying.
And the one thing Takeru feared least was being cut.
They clashed again. Within a few exchanges, Takeru suppressed him, forced an opening, and bit down.
Arturo assumed the dragon intended to smash him into the ground. He resisted the fangs with his light swords and raced for countermeasures.
In raw strength, they had only just reached the same starting line.
This fight should still be long. There should still be hope.
A Bankai mechanism this extreme had to carry a cost.
But then Arturo felt a terrifying reiatsu spike and turned his head.
"What?"
An orange haired young man stood on the ground beneath the flying giant dragon.
Ichigo.
He was in Bankai. He held a black reishi light bow, gathering all remaining power. The bow warped and deformed, reshaping into a black manji like crest. Blue and black lights alternated across it. The glow grew so dense it formed a cone, an impossible profile for a normal arrow. It looked less like a shot and more like a compressed, high energy reaction about to explode forward.
Arturo stiffened.
Ichigo stiffened too.
He had read the battle from the clash of pressures and the shifting flow. He had prepared to deliver the fatal blow the moment Takeru created an opening.
He had not expected Takeru to deliver the enemy to him in such a crude, direct way.
If he fired like this, would Takeru not be hit as well?
"Do it!"
Even while biting down, Takeru could still speak, just as he could while wearing armor. The sound rumbled from deep within the dragon body like thunder.
Ichigo grit his teeth and stopped hesitating. Blue patterns crawling over his arm flared. He aimed the manji shaped bow, fused to his arm as if it were part of his body, and fired.
A pillar of light erupted, blindingly brilliant.
"You would not dare!"
Arturo knew he would be struck first. He instantly converted one light sword into a Cero and detonated it, trying to blast open the dragon's mouth and escape.
But Takeru had already anticipated it.
He revealed the hidden trump card he had been holding back for this moment.
"Cruciatus Curse."
"Ah!"
Shinigami and Arrancar were spiritual beings, but their structures were still close to human. They possessed reishi formed bodies, with souls beneath that physical shell. They were not the same as ordinary wandering souls.
That difference could be seen even in extreme techniques like Nemu's future method of reducing a soul into ammunition. If Shinigami were only souls, reducing the soul would mutilate the body. Yet it did not happen that way.
Takeru's Cruciatus Curse was the same principle.
It targeted the soul directly, tormenting it, inflicting damage that could not be ignored.
Against Arturo, it was a perfect weapon.
Before, Arturo's reiatsu had been too high, suppressing the curse's effect.
Only now, only in this weakened state, only at the moment a single fatal blow was needed, could it show maximum value.
It was the same battle mindset Arturo loved.
Catching the enemy off guard at the decisive instant.
In different domains, superiority means little.
But in the same domain, the superior side takes everything.
When Arturo, seized and restrained by the Cruciatus Curse, was struck by the pillar of light, he felt something he did not expect.
Relief.
In that dazzling ocean where nothing else could be seen, both his body and Takeru's body were disintegrating and dissolving.
As he was reduced to only a head, Arturo looked into the giant dragon's eye and grinned.
"This battle… you won."
Last time, it was Yamamoto Genryusai.
This time, it was Takeru.
Defeated by the same kind of tactics.
He had nothing more to say.
Boom.
The flash that fused Shinigami and Quincy power erupted completely, swallowing the sky and dimming even the summer sun.
"Takeru!"
"Takeru!"
Ichigo, Orihime, and Yoruichi felt Arturo's spiritual pressure vanish.
They also felt Takeru's reiatsu fall to an extreme low, a flickering candle barely holding its flame.
They ignored the aftershocks and forced their way through the storm toward the explosion site.
But when they arrived, there was nothing there.
Ichigo sensed something and looked up.
A figure was falling from the sky.
He used shunpo, shot upward, and in less than a second returned, laying the person gently on the ground.
"Takeru!" Orihime's voice cracked.
"Kid, wake up!" Yoruichi shouted, fur bristling. "The contract is not broken yet! Do you want me to stay a cat forever?"
Takeru could not hear them.
He had already fainted.
Most of his Shinigami uniform was gone, shredded and scorched. His bare upper body looked charred, as if it had been roasted by the sun itself.
Yet even unconscious, he clutched his Zanpakuto in one hand and the sheath in the other, grip locked tight.
Like he was still ready to fight again.
"This guy…" Ichigo stared at his friend as Orihime began urgent treatment, his expression tangled with frustration and respect. "He is really too reckless."
Then Ichigo looked across the ruined battlefield, the scarred earth, the burned sky, the silence left behind.
"But thanks to you…"
"We won."
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