The strongest Shinigami in the thousand-year history of the Gotei 13—Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni—finally erupted in unrestrained fury.
The terrifying heat of Ryūjin Jakka's Shikai surged like a raging tsunami, sweeping toward Uchiha Tobirama in midair.
A sea of fire roared into the heavens.
Buildings that were already little more than ruins did not even get the chance to burn—under this extreme heat, they skipped combustion entirely and were instantly vaporized into nothingness.
"The Captain-Commander has taken action!!!"
In the distance, Kyoraku Shunsui, slumped and exhausted, desperately shielded Hitsugaya Toshiro behind him, gasping for breath.
On his pale face, a trace of ecstatic relief finally surfaced—the joy of surviving a catastrophe.
"It's a guaranteed win! That's Ryūjin Jakka!"
"No matter how strong that monster is, before the Captain-Commander's flames that burn all things, he can only be reduced to ashes!"
It wasn't just Kyoraku.
Even Soi Fon, kneeling at Tobirama's feet under the control of Kotoamatsukami, and Matsumoto Rangiku, trembling in Tobirama's arms, shuddered violently the moment they felt this overwhelming Spiritual Pressure—the pillar that upheld the Soul Society itself.
This was absolute awe, branded deep into every Shinigami's soul.
Yamamoto Genryūsai was synonymous with invincibility.
However—
Facing this terrifying sea of fire capable of turning half of Seireitei into scorched earth, Tobirama, standing at its very center, did not even lift a finger.
"Is this all the heat you've got?"
He held Rangiku's peerless figure in his arms while stepping on the Commander of the Onmitsukidō.
Those deep, mysterious purple Rinnegan eyes gazed at the roaring flames with ultimate contempt.
Buzz—!
An invisible, intangible aura suddenly expanded half a meter from Tobirama's body.
External release of Armament Haki.
Rumble!
The golden flames capable of incinerating everything smashed into that unseen barrier like a raging river striking an immovable divine reef—and were forcibly pushed aside.
Not even a single strand of Rangiku's hair was singed.
"What?!"
Below the sea of fire, the bare-chested Captain-Commander's eyes widened like those of an enraged lion.
Blocked?!
Without Kido.
Without releasing Spiritual Pressure for defense.
He was simply standing there—and his Shikai flames could not even approach within half a meter?!
"How is that possible… even the Captain-Commander's Ryūjin Jakka can't burn through his defense?!" Hitsugaya was completely stunned.
This was the oldest and most powerful offensive Zanpakutō in the Soul Society!
"Old man," Tobirama said lazily, looking down, "are you performing a magic trick for me?"
A mocking sneer curled at his lips.
Internally, he scoffed.
This old fellow's flames were too slow even for a barbecue—hardly as practical as the Uchiha clan's Great Fireball.
"Arrogant demon!!!"
Yamamoto Genryūsai was utterly enraged.
In over two thousand years of life, no one had ever dared to show such contempt before Ryūjin Jakka.
"Since Shikai cannot kill you—
then today, even if I must pay the price of Seireitei's complete destruction, I will drag you, evil spirit, into bottomless Hell!!!"
He clenched the hilt with both hands, holding the blade vertically before his chest.
A destructive Spiritual Pressure—ten thousand times more terrifying than before—erupted, shaking the entire Soul Society.
"Bankai."
The old man's hoarse voice, filled with resolve unto death, echoed between heaven and earth.
"Zanka no Tachi!!!"
Crack!
As those words fell, the golden sea of fire raging across the sky suddenly vanished—
as if it had been forcibly sucked away by some incomprehensible power.
An eerie, absolute silence descended upon Seireitei.
No flames.
No explosions.
Only the Zanpakutō in Yamamoto's hand remained—now a worn, charred iron blade, faint blue smoke curling from its surface.
But—
The moment this seemingly scrap-metal sword appeared, Hitsugaya realized in horror that Hyōrinmaru, the strongest ice-type Zanpakutō, had completely melted away.
Not only that.
In less than a second, the air across Seireitei became unbearably dry.
Moisture in the ground was instantly drained, the earth cracking and desertifying.
Even the water within Shinigami bodies evaporated at a terrifying rate—lips split, throats burned, skin shriveled like withered bark.
"This… this is the Captain-Commander's Bankai?!" Rangiku shrank deeper into Tobirama's embrace. Without his protection, she would have already been reduced to a dried corpse.
"Zanka no Tachi, Higashi: Kyokujitsujin."
Yamamoto raised the charred blade, its tip pointing directly at Tobirama.
"Demon, look carefully.
All of my flames have been compressed and sealed into the very tip of this blade."
"When it swings, there is no burning and no explosion—
because everything it touches will be erased instantly, leaving not even ashes behind."
Absolute confidence burned in Yamamoto's eyes.
This was the trump card he had honed and trusted for two thousand years.
"Fifteen million degrees.
Even if a god descends, I will cut you in two today!!!"
Boom!!!
The ground beneath his feet vanished.
Like an ancient god of war marching toward death, Yamamoto gripped Zanka no Tachi with both hands and tore through space, slashing straight at Tobirama's head.
So fast that even Kyoraku could not track it.
"Die!!!"
The charred blade carved a twisted black scar through the air, carrying the absolute law of erasure as it descended.
To every Shinigami present, this was the final judgment—the end of the nightmare.
However—
On Tobirama's face, there was still not the slightest hint of panic.
"Fifteen million degrees?"
"Sounds like it's just enough to light a fire."
He laughed arrogantly.
He even withdrew his Armament Haki.
No defense.
No evasion.
Tobirama charged straight toward the blade with his bare body.
"Has he lost his mind?!" Kyoraku screamed in disbelief.
Using flesh to meet a fifteen-million-degree Zanka no Tachi was nothing short of suicide!
But—
At the very instant before the blade struck Tobirama's forehead—
Buzz!!!
Within his Rinnegan, six pitch-black tomoe erupted with eerie, greedy purple light.
"Preta Path: Devour All Things!"
Boom!!!
A suction force beyond all physical laws exploded outward from Tobirama's eyes.
The next moment, a scene unfolded that shattered Yamamoto's two-thousand-year-old Dao Heart.
The terrifying heat sealed within Zanka no Tachi—
the flames capable of destroying the world—
were drawn in like rivers returning to the sea, pouring madly into Tobirama's eyes.
"What… what is this?!!!"
Yamamoto's wrinkled face twisted in horror as his hands trembled violently.
His Bankai power was draining away at an absurd speed.
Absorbed?!
The fifteen-million-degree flames… were being swallowed?!
"The temperature's fine," Tobirama said calmly. "Feels like soaking in a hot spring."
The massive heat was instantly assimilated and converted into pure chakra by his perfected Sage body.
"What strongest Zanpakutō? What fifteen million degrees?"
"Before the Rinnegan, they're just snacks."
"Impossible… absolutely impossible!!!"
Yamamoto was completely broken.
As he desperately tried to pull his sword back, Tobirama casually reached out.
Snap.
With a light squeeze, he firmly gripped the blade of Zanka no Tachi with his bare hand.
No charring.
No vaporization.
Even the lines of his palm were clearly visible.
"Old man," Tobirama said indifferently, "are you done slashing?"
"If so, it's my turn."
Before Yamamoto's shattered worldview, Tobirama pulled a top-tier Cuban cigar from his cloak with his free hand.
He placed it between his lips.
Still gripping the blade, he leaned forward and touched the cigar tip to Zanka no Tachi.
Sizzle.
The cigar ignited instantly.
He took a deep drag and exhaled a thick ring of smoke directly onto Yamamoto's stunned face.
"Borrowed a light. Thanks."
Silence.
A silence deeper than Hell swallowed all of Seireitei.
Kyoraku collapsed to the ground, his straw hat rolling away as his eyes lost all light.
Hitsugaya trembled, unable to even hold a sword, dropping to his knees.
Rangiku and Soi Fon stared at Tobirama as though gazing upon a Creator.
Madness.
The invincible pillar of the Gotei 13, the Captain-Commander of two thousand years, had gambled everything on his ultimate Bankai—
And in that man's eyes, it was nothing more than a lighter.
"You… what exactly are you…" Yamamoto whispered, body shaking.
"What am I?"
Tobirama flicked the ash from his cigar, his gaze turning bone-chillingly cold.
"I am a dimensional strike you frogs at the bottom of the well will never comprehend."
He raised his hand.
"Since your fire is finished—
let me show you the true law of destruction."
Boom—!!!
A terrifying chakra exploded from his palm, driving the entire Soul Society into despair.
The sky turned pitch black—not clouds, but pure darkness that devoured light itself.
"Sage Art…"
"World-Destroying Black Lightning!!!"
Crackle! Boom!!!
Countless pitch-black bolts intertwined and compressed.
In half a second, a black lightning dragon over ten thousand meters long formed above Seireitei, space shattering inch by inch beneath its roar.
Before it, Yamamoto's body was no more than an ant.
"This… what kind of power…"
For the first time, despair filled Yamamoto's eyes.
"Remnants of the old era," Tobirama said coldly, "should obediently turn to ash."
He swung his hand down.
"Be completely erased."
Roar—!!!
The black lightning dragon descended.
"Captain-Commander!!!" Kyoraku's scream echoed in despair.
Boom——!!!!!
Black lightning swept the ground.
In that instant, Yamamoto's body, his Zanpakutō, and even his soul were erased from existence—annihilated at a conceptual level.
Absolute destruction.
When the storm ended, only a massive, bottomless crater kilometers wide remained.
The strongest Captain-Commander in the history of the Gotei 13—
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni—
Had been completely erased by a single strike.
The wind billowed Tobirama's dark-gold Hokage cloak as he gazed down at the paralyzed captains below.
His domineering laughter echoed throughout the Soul Society.