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Yoruichi’s movements, now fueled by a shifted intensity, became exponentially sharper and more agile. Utilizing Shunpo, she would suddenly lunge into my blind spot or materialize behind me in a flash. Even in the split seconds after an exchange, she maintained constant pressure, mixing punches and kicks with the flick of a concealed dagger—seamlessly weaving offense and defense into a single predatory flow.
Naturally, I met these strikes with the power of death, withering their speed and crushing their kinetic force before blocking. However, her occasional thrusts toward my vitals were dangerous enough that I had to focus on dodging. If my goal were to kill her, it wouldn’t be this difficult, but suppressing her for capture was proving to be a taxing ordeal.
Tabaht!
Once again, I used my power to drain the momentum and lethality from her kick aimed at my back, pivoting calmly to evade. In that fleeting second, I caught a glimpse of Yoruichi’s eyes—they glinted with a fierce, predatory light. Sensing an immediate threat, I threw my body backward with everything I had.
Sshak!
Something razor-sharp hissed through the air, missing my throat by a literal hair’s breadth. Anticipating my dodge from our previous exchanges, Yoruichi had spun mid-air, utilizing the momentum to slash at my jugular with a dagger hidden in her leg-wraps. Even with my power, a direct hit to the head or heart would be fatal. That was a close call.
"That... was actually a bit dangerous."
As if to prove the gravity of the moment, a thin line of a shallow cut marked my neck where the blade had grazed me. I touched the wound and fixed my gaze on Yoruichi.
"Truly, you’re like a cat."
The lithe, feline grace of her movements, her flexibility in mid-air, the hidden daggers mimicking retractable claws—and those fierce eyes brimming with killing intent. She was the spitting image of a wild cat relentlessly cornering its prey.
"I don’t know what your power is, but the next one will definitely kill you."
Pazich!
Highly concentrated white Kido erupted from her shoulders and back. Finally, Yoruichi’s Shunkō revealed its true form. It was a milk-white aura, far denser than Soi Fon’s version. In response, I drew my blade and initiated my release.
"Adore... La Muerte Emperador."
The polar opposite of her milky Shunkō, a turbid, black Reiatsu spilled from my body. That which is closest to death is not the color of crimson blood, but this murky, lightless void. A blackness where every sin is churned together—this is the color that truly belongs to death.
"Then, let us see the true skill of the Goddess of Flash."
Taht!
With those words, Yoruichi bolted toward me. This wasn't the irregular, evasive harassment from before; this was a frontal assault. Matching her move, I manifested my Reiatsu into gauntlets protecting my forearms and greaves covering my knees.
Kwang!
The sonic boom that followed was far too violent to be the mere sound of fists colliding. By engaging Shunkō, the destructive power behind her strikes had completely transformed. Every single hit carried the weight of a 'one-hit kill.' Had I not formed those protective guards, my arms would have likely been pulverized instantly.
Kwang! Kwang! Kwang!
Fists and feet blurred as we traded blows, neutralizing each other's momentum. Despite the fact that her bare hands were clashing against gauntlets made of dense spiritual pressure, I was the one being pushed to the brink.
Kwang! Kwang! Kwang!
With every collision, spiderweb cracks began to crawl across my gauntlets and greaves. I hadn't expected Shunkō to possess this much raw power, especially considering her version was still technically 'incomplete.'
Puh-ong!
As our fists met with a deafening crack, the sound was different than before. We both broke off and reset our stances. I took the opening to mend my shattered gauntlets with Reiatsu while watching her. Unlike me, Yoruichi looked visibly drained; her Shunkō was flickering, proving its unstable nature. If I kept dragging this out, suppressing her would be easy.
"Haa... haa..."
Pazizzik!
However, contrary to my plan, Yoruichi had no intention of letting time pass. Her milk-white Kido, which had begun to dim, roared back to life with even greater ferocity. The energy began concentrating heavily in her right side. Sensing the tide turning against her, she was clearly looking to settle this with a single, final gambit.
Psh.
"Well, if a lady is going to be that proactive, it would be rude for me not to respond in kind, wouldn't it?"
I focused my own Reiatsu into my left side. I couldn't very well run away like a coward when she was charging in so boldly. Following the flow of spiritual pressure, the gauntlet on my arm became even more reinforced and rigid. About a minute passed in tense silence before Yoruichi finally lunged.
Taht!
Taht!
The moment her feet left the ground, I lunged to meet her. Since we were both sprinting at full tilt, the distance closed in an instant. At the point of impact, we both swung our fists with everything we had.
Zizzizzizizizik!
The moment Yoruichi's right fist connected with my left, a violent surge of sparks erupted—and then, impossibly, both her Shunkō and my gauntlet simply vanished. Stunned, Yoruichi let out a cry that rang in my ears.
"Hanki Sōsatsu!?"
Peok!
Keuk!
While she was frozen in shock, I slammed my fist into her abdomen. Knowing one strike wouldn't be enough to knock her out, I infused my hand with Reiatsu and struck again before catching her collapsing body.
"Unfortunately, this isn't anything as grand as Hanki Sōsatsu."
The unconscious Yoruichi couldn't hear me, but it was the truth. When two opposing spiritual pressures clash, they typically repel or cancel each other out, which is why she mistook it for Reverse Kido. In reality, at the moment of impact, I had simply 'absorbed' her Shunkō. Of course, it wasn't a perfect assimilation—I merely trapped that volatile power inside my left arm for a few seconds. And that came with a price.
Puh—ong!
"Gah... dammit, I'll never get used to the pain."
The cost was my left arm. From the shoulder down, it was completely gone, blown to smithereens by the Shunkō I had been forcibly containing. It was like holding a ticking bomb; this was the inevitable result.
If I had just wanted to kill her, I wouldn't have gone through such a bothersome routine. But since I needed her alive, I had to take the long, painful road around. Well, in the end, I succeeded in subduing Yoruichi, so it wasn't a bad trade.
"I'll have to ask Orihime to fix this once I get back," I thought briefly, looking at the ruin of my shoulder.
Despite my arm being gone, no blood flowed. It was the same with the small cut on my neck earlier. No matter the wound, I don't bleed. Why? Because I don't have blood circulating in me.
Unlike other Espada, I have incredibly delicate skin, contrary to the concept of Hierro. The durability of my skin is likely on par with or even lower than that of a Soul Reaper. Yet, I do not bleed. To put it accurately, I possess nothing that could be called biological 'vitality.'
To most, blood is the essence of life. It carries oxygen and nutrients through the veins of humans and animals. That’s why creatures like vampires covet it. Soul Reapers, Hollows, humans, and beasts all possess it. Vitality equals blood.
But I am different. Being a being comprised entirely of Death, such vitality simply doesn't exist within me. Consequently, my wounds do not regenerate on their own. If I had to describe it, I am more of an Undead—a Lich or a Death Knight. As long as a Lich has mana, they don't die and can repair their forms; the same goes for a Death Knight with unholy energy.
In those cases, damage results in a leak of magical power. Similarly, when I am wounded, I leak Reiatsu instead of blood. While the leakage stops once the wound is 'repaired,' the lost Reiatsu doesn't just come back. If the injury isn't massive, the drain is negligible, and I can easily replenish it with Life Absorption, so it's not a major concern. However, losing an entire arm has cost me a significant chunk of Reiatsu, so I'll need some recuperation time.
After binding the unconscious Yoruichi with ropes woven from Reiatsu, I sat and waited for the closed dimension to dissipate. Even after such a frantic, high-level battle, the barrier hadn't even shown a single crack. It was a stark reminder of just how potent these closed dimensions truly are.
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I lost this chapter twice while writing it. Once due to a computer glitch and once because my word processor crashed without saving. Writing it a third time was exhausting. Writing the same scene thrice somehow led to the details changing and the length increasing. Whew... I wrote this with a heavy sigh.
The Bleach story seems to keep going—is another Aizen-tier boss going to show up? Scary. I mean, there are still plenty of Captains who haven't revealed their Bankai yet...
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