Although he had found their leader.
This didn't mean the war would end here.
Because in the Soul Reapers' worldview... individual combat power was above all else.
Zaraki had almost no room for struggle and was directly suppressed by Yhwach.
Seiya and Uryu, who were standing nearby, witnessed this firsthand and etched it in their hearts.
'This person's' strength was absolutely unquestionable.
Zaraki's ferocious offensive was like child's play in Yhwach's eyes, who used the most concise and swift steps and methods to break through his attacks...
Finding the right opportunity, he thrust his sword forward.
Slicing through the muscles of his right forearm, blood gushed out while his fingers became weak and trembling...
The original tight grip on his weapon was seriously deformed, until finally, his right hand weakly let go, allowing the weapon to fall to the ground.
Whether it was due to 'disbelief' in the reality or simply because his strength wasn't enough to threaten the opponent.
After just a few rounds of combat, this fierce and violent captain of the 11th Division had his Zanpakutō knocked away, the tendons in both hands cut, and his throat directly seized by Yhwach.
The tall and imposing man helplessly lowered his hands.
Perhaps unwilling, possibly frustrated.
But regardless, at this moment, Zaraki was like a defenseless child, completely lifted and held in Yhwach's hand.
Looking at his expression and eyes, already lost and completely unconscious.
Yhwach's eyes narrowed slightly.
The so-called special war powers weren't prepared against him, but were 'reminders' deliberately made for the members of the Sternritter.
In other words.
For Yhwach, it didn't matter who came.
"I didn't expect you would ultimately come to an end in this way..."
Words like sighs flowed from his mouth, and the ruthless Quincy king's right hand began to close, tightening.
Muscles continuously worked under the influence of his will, five fingers received the command, closing inward like steel rods.
Crushing the flesh, grinding the bones together, with the complete termination of the opponent's life as the goal...
At this moment, Yhwach was applying force solely to take the opponent's life.
But the process wasn't smooth.
Because in front of everyone, not far from Yhwach.
A figure appeared at this moment, accompanied by the echoing sound of a whistle.
Huh...
The figure appeared first, followed by the howling sound.
Unlike the Quincy's Hirenkyaku, this was a specialized technique exclusive to Soul Reapers.
The distinctive ability recognized as 'Flash Step'—but to be able to achieve this level, faster than sound, what kind of strength would one need to possess?
No one present could imagine.
Only Yhwach, after looking at the opponent's back, couldn't help but reveal a strange smile.
He let go.
Zaraki, who had been held in his grip, fell helplessly. No one would pay attention to his situation anymore...
On this battlefield, although a person who was once defeated might still retain their life, they wouldn't become a 'target' for anyone in the short term.
Yhwach faced the thin figure who had come from afar, meeting his cold and silent gaze.
At this moment, he took casual and relaxed steps.
"Yamamoto."
"Long time no see, oh right... I can't even remember how long it's been."
"That hateful face of yours, I didn't expect it to have aged to this extent."
Under these seemingly sighing words, there was more or less a hint of mockery.
But more than that, it might also be a kind of 'sudden retrospection,' a subtle feeling of things changing while people remain the same.
After all, for the person involved.
The image of the other had always remained a thousand years ago.
That demon-like figure with a scar on his forehead, who showed no mercy to friends or enemies, the demon of the sword.
Even if he had sunk into the shadow of death, he would often be awakened by similar 'nightmares,' constantly struggling within...
He had to admit.
This man had once become a shadow in Yhwach's heart.
Like a python coiled around his heart, making one tremble and fear.
But that was also something in the 'past' in a sense.
People need to move forward continuously.
Not only for progress but also to achieve more purposes. And in this process, Yhwach had long since walked out of the shadows of the past...
At this moment, even when facing that former gloom again, there wasn't the slightest fear or terror in his heart.
Instead.
After seeing the other's face clearly now.
He couldn't suppress the urge at the corner of his mouth.
How laughable, how ironic this fact was.
"I didn't expect..."
Under his hoarse voice, what was difficult to hide was Yhwach's almost mocking gaze.
"Without realizing it, you've already aged to this extent? Yamamoto."
"Withered, shriveled. Where has the man who was once as majestic as a mountain gone? Is he dead?"
"Or is what stands before me now just the corpse and ghost of the past, just some remnants that couldn't perish?"
Perhaps because he was in too good a mood.
Yhwach said much more than usual.
And facing such words, Yamamoto had no response at this moment.
He just calmly looked at the man in front of him, the ancestor of the Quincies whom he had personally slain and burned a thousand years ago.
No one could know what his state of mind was.
Perhaps even he himself was somewhat unclear... but regardless, at this moment, for Yamamoto, he had only one unchanging purpose.
He turned, drawing his sword.
The Soul Society, shrouded in bloody rain and wind, blew with gusts carrying the faint smell of rust, wrapped in the thick smell of gunpowder.
At this moment, it lightly blew past Yamamoto, lifting and scattering his clothes.
Revealing his chest and abdomen wrapped, bundled, and gathered with bandages.
Just as Yhwach said...
What a withered person this was!
If all those solemn attire were removed, perhaps only a pitifully skinny frame would remain.
It was hard to imagine that this seemingly ordinary and common man was once the great enemy of the Quincy clan.
Lille Barro's professional heart was restless at this moment.
He took a deep breath.
Taking a step forward, about to walk slowly forward—Seiya next to him directly pulled him back.
"What do you want to do?"
"Of course, to help His Majesty. Such a third-rate guy isn't worth His Majesty's personal action."
Are you blind, or has Yhwach gone to your head so much that you can't see the situation clearly?
Although he wanted to retort like this.
The massive spiritual pressure bursting from Yamamoto was enough to explain everything.
The power concentrated around the old man was almost tangible.
Without even releasing his Zanpakutō, he had already erupted with this level of power, which was essentially a way of flexing his muscles.
Raising his sword, level with his chest.
Yamamoto's gaze held neither joy nor sorrow; at this moment, he just calmly looked at Yhwach in front of him.
"The power of Soul Reapers has never been characterized by appearance. Even though I have fallen to such a state, sending you back to hell is not a difficult task."
There was nothing that couldn't be done.
It was just repeating what happened a thousand years ago.
Thoughts settled in his mind, and in that moment of concentration, Yamamoto's face...
Was already covered by the soaring flames.
In fact, Yamamoto wasn't wrong in some aspects.
A Soul Reaper's spiritual pressure doesn't decline with age, unless it's literally due to 'injuries, illness, or death.' Apart from that, Soul Reapers can maintain their peak state most of the time.
Strength had never declined in the slightest, and the fighting spirit that had settled down was also constantly brewing.
The concentrated spiritual pressure, accompanied by a deep and majestic low chant...
Erupted completely in an instant.
"Bankai..."
Hiss...
The air curled back.
The constant blowing, mixed with shouts and cries of pain, all returned to silence at this moment.
As if the propagation of sound had been blocked and cut off in an instant, it was so exaggerated.
Following this 'eruption' was, in a daze, a display in the form of a sky-high fire.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom!!!
Layer upon layer of explosive flames entangled, surrounding Yamamoto's figure, completely hiding him within.
The fiery red flames twisted and flickered, vague faces like ghosts emerging from within, giving a sense of powerful and terrifying pressure.
The black colleague who originally wanted to say something also fell silent now.
It seemed he was unable to make his own 'advance or retreat' judgment. After a moment, from in front came Yhwach's low voice...
"Step back, this man... can only be dealt with by me."
Only then did he slowly retreat back into the ranks.
Yhwach looked at the towering fire with a face full of emotion.
Memories seemed to drift to the distant past, with the old man's figure slowly emerging from within, walking out slowly.
The two figures seemed to overlap for an instant.
Yet quickly separated...
The mocking expression on Yhwach's face didn't diminish in the slightest.
"It seems you have indeed grown old, Yamamoto..."
"Is this your flame? It doesn't match the level from a thousand years ago at all."
"Compared to the restrained, hidden Bankai of the past, what is this technique of yours now?"
True ferocity never writes its threat on its face.
Just like how it's cats that bare their teeth and claws, never tigers.
At this moment, Yamamoto's 'Zanka no Tachi' gave people a completely different feeling compared to its form a thousand years ago.
This frivolous and flamboyant posture...
That's right.
Yhwach seemed to understand something.
"Is it because of the last battle, the excessive consumption, to the extent that you haven't fully recovered yet?"
Although it's not something widely known, anyone who had experienced it once would understand.
The old man's Bankai, in essence, was about storing the continuously burning, accumulating flames in his body and Zanpakutō.
By releasing it all at once, drawing out all the power within his body.
The energy accumulated over a thousand years without being used was an absolute power that could not be ignored.
However, things always have 'turning points.'
In the previous battle in Karakura Town, Seiya controlled part of the power, almost emptying the old man's thousand-year accumulation...
Although this wouldn't affect the overall power, after all, as long as the person was willing, Zanka no Tachi still possessed the ability to burn the three worlds.
But this was indeed the most intuitive 'change,' so it's no wonder Yhwach mocked at this moment.
Of course.
Only being able to achieve this level would one have the posture that could move heaven and earth, burning everything.
"It's just a change in appearance, such a small thing doesn't hinder matters."
Gently waving the Zanpakutō in his hand, the old man's gaze was cold and merciless, revealing the outline of the sword demon from a thousand years ago.
"It's enough to burn you all to ashes."
With these words.
Yamamoto's form flashed forward.
The Zanka no Tachi in his hand swung, and the air seemed to be pulled in at this moment.
Yhwach avoided this 'fatal blow' in a rather dangerous posture, but even so, his sleeve inevitably touched the blade.
Then.
The clothing, like burnt ashes.
Rapidly withered, shattered, and annihilated at a visible speed...
Falling bit by bit during a pause that could make people take notice, disappearing without a trace.
Witnessing this situation, the several royal guard members who were currently observing were in a state of not daring to breathe.
Everyone deeply realized a problem.
—Under the premise that Yhwach didn't fully allocate his power, no one present would be a match for this withered old man.
"What's wrong, only knowing how to avoid meaninglessly? Was your declaration just now merely your verbal ability?"
The graceful Yamamoto began his verbal offensive.
The Zanpakutō in his hand seemed like a terrifying object that would kill upon contact, making Yhwach continuously avoid while his expression also became solemn.
"Sankt Altar!"
A circle of azure light formation appeared, and the light swords that gushed out from it were like dew, spewing toward Yamamoto.
In response, the old man's gaze was cold, showing a quite disdainful expression at this moment.
"Over a thousand years have passed, and you still only have this level of skill."
Without even dodging, merely waving his Zanpakutō, the wind from the blade was enough to cut down these attacks.
As if he had no mood to delay any further.
Yamamoto stood in place, slowly raising his Zanka no Tachi horizontally.
Taking a deep breath, fully erupting his firepower.
The opponent had crossed swords with Zaraki, and he had personally experienced it as well.
No mistake, this was Yhwach, not someone who could be replaced or imitated.
"It's over, Yhwach."
"I will complete the task I left unfinished a thousand years ago."
"To personally bury you again."
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Powerstones?
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