Chapter 189: Counterfeit
Who was Yhwach?
The master of the Quincy from a thousand years ago. Under his leadership, he had launched a merciless invasion against all of Soul Society.
The process was unambiguously devastating.
The Gotei 13, and Soul Society as a whole, had paid an enormous and almost inconceivable price before finally bringing him down.
As a powerful opponent, he genuinely deserved acknowledgment for what he was.
And at the same time.
Soul Society's people had every reason to despise the tyrant whose entire philosophy was built on taking from others.
"You..."
Yamamoto Genryusai Shigekuni's eyes widened slightly.
He stared at the figure as if the breath had been knocked out of him, mouth opening a fraction, the pale planes of his face twisting into an expression caught between disbelief and something sharp and ugly.
"Why are you standing here?!"
Faced with what came very close to a demand for answers, Yhwach did not reply. He stepped back half a step, hands opening loosely at his sides, wearing an expression somewhere between amusement and contempt.
"Seeing me again surprises you this much? Yamamoto."
"Ah, is that so..."
Yamamoto's gaze dropped.
And then.
BOOM!!!
A visible surge of turbulent reiatsu burst outward in an instant and wrapped entirely around his body.
Sssss...
A series of deeply unnatural hissing sounds rang through the air.
Across Yamamoto's body, visible lines of red appeared, threading and winding around him like fine silk, gathering slowly inward, rolling like moving flame, demanding attention.
"To cut down a hated enemy a second time. This is enough to make even this old man's heart leap with joy!"
As Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13, Yamamoto Genryusai Shigekuni might weigh the lives of those under his command. But when facing an enemy?
There was no possibility of retreat.
CRACK!
The ground beneath Yamamoto's feet shattered. His figure carved a long arc through the air, descending like a comet, and drove directly toward Yhwach.
Dust to dust.
The dead should look like they are dead.
The Zanpakuto in his hand warped and shifted in the surrounding surge of reiatsu, reshaping itself until it became an extremely restrained old blade.
By appearance alone, few would readily compare it to something capable of harm. It looked simply too worn, giving off from every surface a contained quality, like a museum piece.
But the moment Yhwach saw that blade take shape, the composed and mocking expression he had been wearing went serious in an instant.
Ryujin Jakka.
Yamamoto Genryusai Shigekuni's Zanpakuto.
Possessed of the most overwhelming destructive force in all of Soul Society. At full release, capable of evaporating all three worlds through its heat alone.
A disaster-class existence in the most literal sense. Even without being directly targeted, the light and heat and energy it released could destroy everything in the surrounding area.
This was the same force and ability that stood as the single obstacle between Aizen Sosuke and everything he was reaching for.
Additionally.
"Rigid as ever. Not even invoking your release call before charging at me?"
Yhwach let out a short sound, tilting his face slightly with an expression of mild satisfaction.
"Same as always. Reckless, Yamamoto."
Whoosh.
Azure reishi particles surged outward in an instant. Beneath Yhwach's feet, they assembled and formed a circular array approximately five meters in diameter.
"Heilig."
The word fell.
A torrent of reiatsu erupted from the ground and slammed into Yamamoto mid-air.
Two masses of reiatsu-formed light collided violently in the air, producing a pillar of brilliant light that shot straight upward.
Under that intense brightness, Yamamoto's assault was checked. He stumbled back through the air and landed on the ground once more.
"..."
His expression showed no visible change. But deep within him, the impact was severe.
The reason was simple: this Yhwach was not an illusion.
As Captain-Commander, Yamamoto's combat experience was beyond measure. Across all those years of fighting, he had faced countless different ability types and attack methods.
Which was exactly why he could make instant judgments under any conditions, and produce the correct response in the shortest possible time.
Yhwach might conceivably return from death. But absolutely not like this, absolutely not now.
By instinct, by reflex, and by confidence in his own judgment, Yamamoto had essentially concluded in an instant that this was a fabricated illusion.
Given Yhwach's particular nature, no amount of caution was excessive when it came to that man. So the conclusion had been: fake.
And yet.
Reality had diverged sharply from what Yamamoto had prepared for.
He stood still and lowered his gaze toward his right hand.
He had swung his blade and struck. The reiatsu-generated feedback from that impact was not false. The technique was a familiar Quincy method.
The reiatsu signature. The strength. The style of the attack. Every element of it had perfectly reproduced the man Yamamoto knew.
No matter how reluctant he was to accept it, Yamamoto found his eyes widening slightly, something close to genuine confusion crossing his face.
How had the unknown enemy achieved this?
Had they actually brought Yhwach back?
The thought hadn't finished forming before several flashes of light swept in from the side, forcing Yamamoto into evasive motion.
"..."
All familiar faces.
Enemies he had once cut down. Subordinates and trusted companions who had once shared something real with him.
One by one they appeared, each using the attack methods he knew best, closing in around Yamamoto from every direction.
What a desecration.
But more than anger, what he felt right now was confusion.
He had techniques capable of something similar. But he had no ability to recreate them to this degree.
Because a copy was still a copy. No matter how convincingly it was disguised, no matter how carefully assembled, in the end it was nothing more than a hollow counterfeit.
But the situation in front of him was completely different.
Yhwach's power was in no way weaker than the impression Yamamoto carried of it.
He looked down at Ryujin Jakka in his hand. With his Zanpakuto already released, he was confident there was no one alive who could intercept his attack this casually.
But this figure had done exactly that, just as the man in his memory had always done.
"...?"
Yamamoto's brow rose.
A thought surfaced and moved through him, like a hand brushing something that was already slipping away.
The Captain-Commander appeared to have understood something.