Half an hour earlier—
Sōkyoku Hill was the highest point in all of Seireitei, and at its northernmost edge stood the execution ground renowned throughout Soul Society—Sōkyoku.
"Swoosh"
A black figure swept swiftly up from the base of the hill. In just a few breaths, he arrived at Sōkyoku Hill and stood proudly beneath the massive Sōkyoku spear without moving.
Under the dusky glow of the western sun, his striking brown skin could be seen clearly, along with rows of purple dreadlocks and a pair of protective goggles on his face.
He wore a black Shihakushō with a loose white captain's haori draped over it, fluttering loudly in the evening wind.
In all of Soul Society, only the blind captain of the Ninth Division, Kaname Tōsen, carried himself with such flamboyance. His appearance here meant he was preparing to defect to Hueco Mundo alongside Aizen and Gin, using the Menos Grande's Negación.
"Hm? They're not here… Am I late?" Tōsen sensed the surroundings, then shook his head. "No, I arrived early. Lord Aizen… would never be late."
"Whoosh—"
Another gust of wind swept past, lifting his dreadlocks and haori. A faint unease stirred within him.
Was that… just the wind?
"Hey, Tōsen… I've been waiting up here for quite a while. You didn't notice me at all?"
"What? That voice is..."
Tōsen instantly retreated dozens of meters, then raised his head toward the crucifix frame atop the hundred-meter Sōkyoku spear.
"Fūjin Taichi? Former Vice-Captain of the First Division… I didn't expect you to be hiding here!"
"I'm not hiding," Fūjin Taichi replied, leaning casually against the frame as he looked down at Tōsen. "I've been waiting here on purpose. Do you know why, Tōsen?"
"Enough. In the end… I shall cleanse this rotten Soul Society of your filth!"
Ignoring the question, Tōsen snorted coldly and vanished in a flash.
"Tch… big words," Taichi muttered.
With his left hand, he drew his Zanpakutō and rested it diagonally across his right shoulder. A sharp clang rang out as Tōsen's blade collided fiercely with his.
"What?! You saw through my attack?!" Tōsen was shaken. Leaping back to create distance, he muttered, "No… you just blocked it by chance."
"Heh. You're quite good at comforting yourself, Tōsen," Taichi said, shaking his head. "Aren't you even curious why I'm here?"
"Hmph. Whatever ridiculous reason you have is irrelevant. I will cut you down here and now—Cry out, Suzumushi!"
Determined to end the fight quickly, Tōsen released his Zanpakutō at once and pointed it at Taichi, activating Suzumushi's first technique.
The spiritual pressure around his blade began vibrating rapidly, producing a continuous buzzing sound—like the chirping of a cricket.
This soundwave not only prevented other weapons from binding his blade, but could also hypnotize opponents whose spiritual pressure was weaker than his.
Not long ago, Tsunayashiro Tokio had fallen into an illusion due to Suzumushi's hypnotic ability and had been completely overwhelmed by Tōsen.
Releasing your Zanpakutō before a mere Vice-Captain... you've got no shame at all, Captain Tōsen!" Taichi sneered as his figure flickered and disappeared.
"What?! He dodged it..."
Though blind, Tōsen's hearing was extraordinarily sharp. In an instant, he sensed someone appear behind him.
"I feel like I'm bullying the disabled here... Tōsen!" As Taichi's voice rang out from behind him, his blade was already descending.
"Clang!!"
A thunderous crash echoed as two surges of blue spiritual pressure collided violently midair, shockwaves rippling outward in all directions.
"Boom!"
Tōsen's feet slammed heavily onto Sōkyoku Hill. The rock beneath him shattered, and the ground within a radius of more than ten meters cracked apart.
"N-No way… I was actually… pushed back by a mere vice-captain? How utterly laughable!"
Locking onto Taichi's presence in the air, Tōsen pushed off the ground and charged forward with his blade.
"Clang! Clang!"
"Clang! Clang!"
Again and again, Tōsen launched relentless attacks at Taichi—yet each and every strike was blocked without fail.
After dozens more exchanges in midair, blades flashing back and forth, Kaname Tōsen once again pulled away, retreating several dozen meters.
"Why create distance, Captain Tōsen—?" Fūjin Taichi lightly brushed his left hand across the blade of his Zanpakutō and smiled.
"If you truly want to cut me, you should close in and attack.
Or is it… that you're afraid that once you get close, some part of my figure might slip out of your perception?
If that's the case, that worry is unnecessary. After all, combat distance only has meaning when the two opponents are equal in strength.
Between you and me, distance holds no meaning… because I haven't even used my Shikai yet.
But next—please face the raging wind!"
"Hmph... I feel no change in your spiritual power at all. That 'Shikai' of yours is nothing more than an insult to the rank of Vice-Captain!!" Tōsen said coldly, thrusting his blade forward again. "Suzumushi Nishiki: Benihikō (Bell Bug Type Two: Flying Locust)!"
Fwoosh! Fwoosh! Fwoosh!
In an instant, countless double-ended blades were generated from his Zanpakutō, shooting toward Taichi like a torrential rain. Within seconds, they closed to within mere feet of him—
"Petty tricks, and you dare show them off before me? Watch this—Hasaki!"
With a sweep of his left hand, a thirty-meter-wide white wall of wind materialized before Taichi, completely blocking the rain of blades.
At that very moment, Taichi suddenly snorted and reversed his grip, thrusting his Zanpakutō—Kyūjūkyū—backward.
"Slash!"
Tōsen staggered back, eyes wide with shock, clutching a wound in his abdomen. He immediately used Shunpo to retreat over twenty meters.
"Captain Tōsen, that must be hard for you… Blind, and your Shunpo isn't even polished—yet you still thought you could ambush me?"
Taichi scoffed and was about to press the attack when his senses suddenly sharpened. He quickly turned toward the slope of Sōkyoku Hill—
A figure shot forward at the speed of lightning, appearing before Taichi in the blink of an eye. A heavy side kick struck his jaw, sending him flying through the air.
What?! This person is—
Before Taichi could react midair, the figure instantly appeared above him, two deep gray eyes staring down coldly.
"It's over, criminal—Fūjin Taichi. Crane Strike—"
With a sharp shout, the newcomer's right fist, wrapped in overwhelming blue spiritual pressure, smashed down toward Taichi's chest.
"Damn it…"
Grinding his teeth, Taichi spat a mouthful of blood toward the attacker's face. In the split second of hesitation that followed, he used Shunpo to escape, flashing more than thirty meters away.
"BOOM!!"
The solid ground of Sōkyoku Hill collapsed over dozens of meters from that single punch. Amid the falling rubble and swirling dust, the attacker slowly stepped forward.
She was petite and slender, with short hair and straight bangs. Two white braided loops adorned her back, and her white captain's haori fluttered violently in the lingering gusts from the impact.
"Soi Fon…"