Brushing off the dust, Kisuke pressed a hand to his green hat, letting the shadow of the brim obscure his eyes.
Although he had nearly been swallowed by the Dangai just moments ago, Urahara's composure returned quickly. Now that they had successfully arrived in Hueco Mundo, his heart was at ease.
Setting aside the fact that he was accompanied by a top-tier powerhouse like Makiya, Urahara had countless tricks up his sleeve within a world. However, the mishap with the Senkaimon served as a reminder; once he returned, he would need to research the Dangai and the Kototsu.
Urahara took note of the throne ahead but didn't pay the skeleton sitting at the top much mind. He knew Makiya would likely want to test his skills against such a powerful enemy, so interjecting would only ruin the mood.
Makiya looked around, his gaze piercing through the surrounding structures toward the horizon.
The sights of Hueco Mundo were rare, starkly different from both the Human World and the Soul Society. This journey was a novel experience for him—provided no more accidents occurred.
"Urahara, is there still a way to contact Akane's side?" Makiya drew Chisato, the tip of the blade casually tracing patterns in the sand.
"It should be possible, but I'll need some time to prepare," Urahara replied after a moment's thought.
He couldn't contact Akane right now. The tracking device was only meant to receive signals after the Senkaimon was opened from the other side. However, he could modify the device on the spot to suit Hueco Mundo's environment. That wasn't a difficult task.
Urahara was brilliant. In terms of pure intellect, he was perhaps even a step above Aizen, especially when it came to scientific research and the development of novel technologies. His inspiration was an endless, unrivaled stream.
Aizen's intellect was also high, but his true strength lay in his Spiritual Pressure. When one could rely on brute force to crush everything, they often subconsciously stopped overthinking. After all, no matter the scheme, it was a paper tiger before absolute power.
A gust of wind howled, kicking up clouds of white sand. Makiya used his Spiritual Pressure to repel the dust as he surveyed the surroundings.
The scenery of Hueco Mundo was desolate and eerie, the entire world shrouded in a dim twilight. Endless ridges of white desert stretched across the land as far as the eye could see.
"What rude guests. To barge into Hueco Mundo and ignore its master... You have already sought your own path to death."
'Good grief, are you practicing the Mysterious Heaven Skill or something? "Sought your own path to death" this, "sought your own path to death" that!'
Makiya's mouth twitched as he turned to Urahara. "Urahara, go hide to the side and modify the tracker. I'm going to have a bone-to-pick talk with this skeleton."
"Alright, be careful. Call me if you can't handle it."
"Don't worry. I might be done here before you even finish the modifications."
Urahara offered a casual reminder as he adjusted his hat. He believed Makiya wouldn't lose in a fight, but there was always someone better out there. What if the opponent's ability was exceptionally strange? It was better to be safe than sorry.
Urahara used Shunpo to move away, leaving Makiya alone. He finally looked up at Baraggan atop the throne. The old man's appearance was certainly intimidating, capturing the essence of a god of death from Western myths. He wielded a massive double-edged battle-axe, creating a powerful visual impact.
"Baraggan Louisenbairn." Makiya looked directly at the skull. Through the dark voids of the sockets, he felt as if he could see Baraggan's invisible eyes. "Before we arrived, did any other Soul Reapers come looking for you?"
In the original story, after being empowered by Aizen using the Hogyoku, Baraggan didn't look like a dark skeleton. Instead, he took the form of an elderly, muscular man wearing a white crown of bone, carrying a double-edged axe over his shoulder with a golden compass at his waist—looking quite imposing.
'He hasn't taken human form. Does that mean Aizen hasn't experimented on them yet?'
According to the original timeline, Baraggan was ruling peacefully as the King of Hueco Mundo when three Soul Reapers suddenly appeared. Aizen, the leader, released Kyoka Suigetsu right in front of everyone without a word. Baraggan, being arrogant, simply watched him release the Zanpakuto...
And then things went south. His five senses fell completely under Aizen's control. The King of Hueco Mundo became a prisoner, his former glory stripped away.
After becoming one of Aizen's subordinates, Baraggan spent countless moments plotting his revenge, nursing a deep-seated hatred. Unfortunately, he never achieved it before his death, eventually undone by his own power.
"If any other Soul Reapers dared to approach my palace, you would surely be hearing their delighted screams right now," Baraggan's elderly voice echoed from the throne. "Strange Soul Reaper, who gave you the courage to barge into my palace? Forget it... even for rude guests, this old man remains welcoming. Welcome to this old man's castle—Las Noches."
Makiya scanned the area with a skeptical look. The surroundings were empty sand dunes, with vast stretches of gray-white ruins buried beneath the sand. Behind Baraggan stood a tall, dilapidated wooden frame with a cracked bronze bell hanging at the top.
"This castle... has no walls and no roof. The most intact structure nearby is the platform under your backside. You have the nerve to call this a castle?"
"Hah, a roof?" Baraggan let out a disdainful laugh. A deep, resonant sound rumbled from within the skull, vibrating through the air and spreading outward. "Hahahaha! I have no need for such boring things. For me, as the King, the entire sky of Hueco Mundo is the roof of this old man's castle."
Makiya shook his head. "Then you should renovate the floor. No decent person uses sand for flooring."
As he spoke, Makiya lightly tapped his foot on the ground. A slight tremor rippled from beneath him, and after a muffled thud, the ground fell silent.
A Hollow had tried to ambush him from underground while he was distracted, but Makiya's burst of Spiritual Pressure crushed it instantly.
"A subordinate was killed right in front of you, and you have no reaction?"
"A subordinate who acts on their own is worth less than a dog to me." Baraggan rested his skull on one hand, gesturing for a maid—transformed from a Menos—to pour him wine. He then waved his right hand. "Go. Kill these two Soul Reapers. Do your best to entertain me!"
As soon as Baraggan spoke, countless bizarre-looking Menos emerged from the ruins. These were the elite among the Hollows, collected by Baraggan to serve as his subjects and subordinates.
When bored, Baraggan would divide them into two sides and watch them fight to the death for his amusement.
These creatures feared Baraggan's terrifying strength and methods of torture, obeying his every word.
However, even these elites were nothing before Makiya. Spiritual Pressure surged into the blade in his hand. He held the sword to his left, drawing back to build momentum before swinging it forward with a violent force.
"Drawing Slash!"
A simple draw-and-strike, empowered by a god's experience, erupted with terrifying power. The Spiritual Pressure release was extremely refined, making the blade-light incredibly dense. It possessed both immense speed and infinite sharpness, cutting through everything in its path.
For an instant, the air seemed to freeze. Then, a sharp, overwhelming sword intent exploded from Makiya. A crescent of white light swept out, a translucent blade-aura silently mowing through the air.
Within that silence lay a great horror. The Menos leaping through the air to attack were filled with extreme terror. Precisely because they were the elites, they could feel the sheer dread of this sword intent more acutely.
Makiya's sword intent gave them no time for regret. The translucent blade-aura passed through the group of Menos as gently as a breeze.
The Menos maintained their forward momentum as if Makiya's strike were an illusion or a harmless display. But a second later, blood sprayed uncontrollably. Their bodies were sliced in half at the waist, the cross-sections as smooth as mirrors.
It wasn't until their upper halves hit the ground that they finally began to scream in agony.
In a single instant, the entire group had been cut down.
"Hmph, useless trash." Baraggan let out a cold snort and slowly rose from his throne. Boundless black mist surged from beneath him, radiating a rotting, aged stench.
When the black mist touched Makiya's sword-light, it was like ice water hitting hot oil. The two clashed violently—the blade-light flickered, and the black mist boiled like lightning striking the earth. The piercing sound of sizzling filled the air.
In the end, the power of 'Aging' prevailed. Enveloped by the endless black mist, the sword-light—which lacked a continuous source—was corroded and eventually dissipated into motes of light.
Though he had successfully neutralized Makiya's attack, Baraggan still radiated a terrifying aura. His subordinates were indeed useless trash, providing no help against the enemy. He would have to take action himself.
"Very well. It has been a long time since this old man had a bit of exercise. I'll treat today as a warm-up."
Baraggan's black cloak whipped in the winds of Hueco Mundo, shimmering with an eerie, dark light, as if it had absorbed the resentment of countless souls.
As he slowly flew into the air, the skull chains around his waist clanked against each other, making a bone-chilling sound.
The form of death Baraggan represented was 'Aging,' the concept most feared by all things. Everything ages; even indestructible creations will turn to dust over vast stretches of time. Baraggan's ability accelerated this process. His black mist speeded up the aging of all things, bordering on the concept of 'Time.'
Because his ability was so invincible, Baraggan had never developed specific techniques or skills. Aside from the Cero common to all Menos, he didn't need to think much during a fight; he only needed to release the black mist.
Wherever 'Aging' passed, the enemy's attacks couldn't even get close. Often, even the enemies themselves were erased, returning to the most basic particles and dissipating into the world.
Baraggan didn't think Makiya was any different from the enemies he had killed before. The boundless black mist spread, enveloping everything nearby.
The tragic maid was still holding the wine jar. Being the closest, she was the first to be swallowed by the mist. The power of aging continuously drained her life force. In just two seconds, the long-lived Menos reached her end. She went from aging to death to rotting and finally to complete annihilation—as if her life had been put on fast-forward.
Facing the overwhelming black mist, the sword Chisato in Makiya's hand flared with excited, bright red flames.
"Aging, huh? A phoenix is the one thing that never fears getting old!"
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