Boom!
A massive hole tore open at the edge of the underground Central 46.
"Captain-Commander! What's-"
Led by Makoto and other Captains, the shinigami sensed the intense reiatsu fluctuations below and rushed to the scene.
Then, catching sight of the two figures in the central hall, Makoto's heart sank.
This bald monk appeared sparingly in the anime and manga, but the impression he left was unforgettable.
Yet their feeble reiatsu wasn't even worth a second glance from Ichibē Hyōsube. The burly monk continued smiling heartily at Yamamoto, seemingly convinced his earlier proposal held irresistible allure.
"I watched your fight with that Tsunayashiro kid earlier. You must've glimpsed a fraction of the Soul King's power's greatness, right?"
"Immortality's just the basics. Beyond that, it can elevate your strength, break through limits, even forge unprecedented might for you."
"If you're willing."
Facing the monk's earnest expression, Yamamoto's stern visage faltered for a moment before a faint smile crept across his lips.
"Hah!"
The next instant, his face turned gravely imposing.
"So this is your proposal?"
The moment his words fell, Ichibē seemed to sense something. He abruptly crossed his broad, sturdy palms before his chest.
Yamamoto's form surged forward like a tiger unleashed:
"Jūkotsu!!"
A torrent of ferocious reiatsu roared forth, crashing toward Ichibē.
Boom!
A muffled thud.
The shockwave radiated outward, demolishing the entire underground hall.
Yet Ichibē, standing at the epicenter, merely slid back a few meters.
His wooden clogs carved twin grooves into the ground.
"As expected."
"Guess it'll take a harder approach?"
Ichibē muttered, a grim, shadowy grin spreading across his face.
Then, like a sumo wrestler, he thrust his right palm forward toward Yamamoto.
"Senri Tsūtenshō!"
With a thunderous roar, Makoto raised his arms to shield himself. Through the gaps, his eyes glimpsed a colossal arm thicker than palace beams materializing from thin air, smashing toward Yamamoto.
Yamamoto's eyes widened, his wild hair and thick beard whipping in the gale. His clothes clung tightly to his frame as the violent wind pressure forced his body taut and rigid.
Boom!
The moment the sound hit, the side of the underground assembly hall was blasted open, a massive diagonal breach shattering half the structure and exposing the surface above.
Yamamoto's figure vanished from sight.
Ichibē flexed his legs, launching skyward in pursuit, leaving only deep footprints behind.
In that instant, everyone present realized...
Something big was happening.
…
Impact, wind, oppression.
This is a power unlike any Yamamoto had encountered in his millennia of dominating the Soul Society.
For the first time in his life.
By comparison, Tsunayashiro Shōgo who claimed mastery over the Soul King's power paled into insignificance.
Yamamoto could feel it, a near-sealing layer of reiatsu coiled around his body, suppressing his physical capabilities as he hurtled into the distance.
But it wasn't enough to fully restrain him.
Crack! Crack!
His muscles tensed bulging under strain and his reiatsu surged.
His battle-hardened body wrested control back amidst the ferocious force.
Break!
Like a beast snapping its chains, Yamamoto's arms tore free with a fierce yank, shattering the outermost binding layer. He halted abruptly in midair.
"Oh! You broke free that fast?"
Ichibē's familiar voice rang out beside him.
This time, Yamamoto didn't hesitate. Gripping his hilt, he drew and slashed with full force, ripping a vacuum tunnel through the air.
Swish!
Before the blade could land, the monk's stout brush swung upward.
The clash unleashed a terrifying surge of reiatsu, shaking the three worlds.
"Useless!"
"Full strength or holding back."
"Shikai or Bankai."
"All of it utterly futile!"
Blades clashed with the white brush, their forms flickering at blinding speed.
Even amidst such fierce combat, Ichibē had the leisure to taunt, as if Yamamoto's threat meant nothing to him.
"Your Zanjutsu and Hakuda are impressive, no doubt."
"But so what?"
"In the Soul Society's million-year history, the few millennia you've lived are but a drop in the ocean!"
"Across this world's vast annals, there've been countless powerhouses beyond your wildest dreams!"
"And now, the only one still standing is Me!"
"Do you understand what that means?"
At those words, Yamamoto's expression grew markedly graver.
But he was hardly the type to be swayed by mere words.
The instant the monk's question rang out, Yamamoto pushed his reiatsu to its absolute limit.
"All things in Universe, reduced to ash!"
"Ryūjin Jakka!"
His blazing blade slashed downward as if to cleave the monk apart on the spot.
Yet that searing, ultimate threat...
Earned only a dismissive chuckle.
Ichibē's brush suddenly softened, becoming impossibly pliant.
Its ink-stained tip whipped toward Yamamoto in a single stroke.
As the ink streaked through the air, Yamamoto's face shifted.
"Slash the name, not the flesh!"
Ichibē spoke calmly, "That's the power of my Ichimonji."
"Anything I strike has half its name severed."
"And with it, half its power."
He pointed out, "Right now, your name is Genryūsai Shige."
"And that blade is just Ryūjin."
His words were no bluff.
In this world, a name was a vessel of power be it a Zanpakutō's name or a Shinigami's.
What Ichibē had slashed was precisely that name.
Reiatsu, stamina, physical body...
All were reduced to half their former strength.
Yet how could he yield to such a power?!
Yamamoto stood firm, his eyes widening sharply.
"Ban-"
Before he could finish the word, Ichibē surged forward with full force, his eyes rolling back.
His massive frame loomed before Yamamoto in an instant, delivering a ferocious palm strike to his abdomen.
"Senri Tsūtenshō!"
"Triple!"
"Up you go!"
Three piercing shockwaves erupted outward in all directions.
Under the colossal force, Genryūsai Shige's form rocketed skyward at a speed invisible to the naked eye, shrinking into a faint black dot in moments.
Ichibē's figure followed, his Shunpo outpacing even the airborne Genryūsai Shige.
Until the moment he brushed against an unseen barrier.
His arm tensed abruptly, thrusting forward.
The next instant...
Ichibē and Genryūsai Shige plunged into a separate dimension.
Boom!
Genryūsai Shige crashed onto a pristine white avenue, kicking up a cloud of dust.
He rolled to his feet.
But as he took in the surroundings, he froze.
What… was this place?
And why was the Reishi concentration here so staggeringly high?!
In his millennia of life, Genryūsai Shige hadn't explored every corner of the three worlds, but he'd come close.
Moreover, Reishi this dense would shine like the morning star in a warrior like him's eyes. Even across three worlds, he'd have sensed it faintly.
Noticing his bewilderment, Ichibē landed lightly before him, saying calmly.
"This is the Soul King Palace."
"No, don't misunderstand."
"I don't just mean this single palace, but…"
He spread his arms toward Yamamoto.
"This entire colossal, independent space all of it is part of the Soul King Palace!"
Genryūsai Shige stood stunned.
This place, so unlike the resplendent palace he'd imagined…
"What… what's going on here? Why is there barely any reiatsu from others?"
"And where is the Soul King?!"
Ichibē grinned, "Well, naturally, it's because… in the entire Soul King Palace, it's just me and Oetsu Nimaiya as the only real people."
"Ah, I know it's hard for you to grasp right now, that's why I brought you here."
"Put your blade away."
"There's no need for us to fight."
Hearing this, Genryūsai Shige fell silent but sheathed his sword nonetheless.
Seeing his compliance, Ichibē turned, casually recalling the "black" from Genryūsai Shige's body.
His full name was restored.
As Ichibē had said, they did not need to clash.
"Come with me."
"I'll take you to meet the Soul King."
That small gesture eased the tension in Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto's furrowed brow.
The hollow weakness of losing half his power wasn't pleasant, even for him.
Beyond that, the questions in his mind only multiplied.
Passing the Soul King Palace Front Approach and crossing the airborne detached palaces, Ichibē led Yamamoto to the Soul King Greater Palace.
It was a small, four-tiered structure floating in midair, cylindrical at both ends.
From the outside, it looked remarkably… plain.
Even austere.
That was Yamamoto's first impression.
The deeper he ventured, the stronger that impression grew.
No guards, no messengers, no maids, not even a hint of extravagant decor.
His brow furrowed tighter.
This place didn't feel like somewhere people lived.
On the contrary...
It felt more like… a mausoleum.
The moment that thought surfaced...
As his gaze fell upon the scene at the heart of the Soul King Greater Palace, framed by two ornate curtains.
Yamamoto's eyes widened in shock.
There stood… a massive crystal, sealed atop a throne.
At its center was a corpse's limbs severed, leaving only a torso and head.
Its hair was pitch black, and within its equally dark pupils gleamed reflections like starlight gazing upon the three worlds.
"What… what is this…?"
Yamamoto instinctively took two steps forward as if to examine the sight up close.
But Ichibē, unusually stern, barred his path.
"Show respect."
"This… is the Soul King?"
Yamamoto seemed not to hear, staring blankly at the figure entombed in crystal.
Before storming Seireitei, he'd imagined countless versions of his first encounter with this sovereign of a million years.
He'd pictured the Soul King as an unrivaled warrior, or perhaps a title passed down through generations, or even a mere artifact.
But never had Yamamoto envisioned a scene like this.
"Is he… dead?"
His voice softened unconsciously.
He could sense it... the body was hollow inside.
Yet he asked anyway.
"Soul King lives eternally." Ichibē replied calmly as if stating a simple, undeniable fact.
Indeed.
He was alive.
Even without Ichibē's answer, Yamamoto could feel the immense reiatsu radiating ceaselessly from the crystal, like a blazing furnace whose heat was effortlessly palpable.
But…
"How can this be called living?"
"If this counts as alive, then what exactly are you a warrior of your caliber protecting?"
Yamamoto roared at Ichibē, his voice a lion's furious bellow.
Blind loyalty?
Tradition?
An oath?
Or some other absurdly foolish reason?
What could possibly drive a powerhouse who'd endured a million years to guard this useless… corpse?
"What Soul King and I protect..."
"Is this fragile balance of the three worlds."
Ichibē seemed to sense the fiery resolve blazing in Yamamoto's chest, yet he answered with steady calm.
"To that end, Soul King willingly sealed himself here."
"…Willingly?"
At that, Yamamoto quieted, gazing at the hollowed-out form before him.
Who would willingly become this?
"Yamamoto, my friend."
Ichibē plopped down on the floor, gesturing for him to join, and asked casually.
"What do you think keeps our three worlds in existence?"
"The three worlds are the cycle of life and death, eternally turning." Yamamoto replied, not fully grasping Ichibē's question. "Isn't that obvious?"
"Wrong!"
Ichibē slapped his thigh with a sigh, "Nothing in this world is obvious."
Yamamoto's brow creased sharply.
"Countless ages ago, the world was a chaos without life or death, progress or regression, only the eternal cycle of Reishi endured."
"Birth, existence, dissolution, rebirth."
"Even Hollows were once part of that Reishi cycle."
Ichibē recounted the ancient past, "But at some point, Hollows changed."
"They began devouring Reishi, growing stronger, like an insatiable maw that tore a breach in the world's cycle."
"The cycle broke, and Reishi funneled toward the Hollows."
"At that rate, it wouldn't take long for the entire world to be consumed by an infinitely vast Hollow."
"Beyond that, souls faced the expansion of Hell, the threat of the world grinding to a standstill, and more…"
"Soul King was born in such an era."
"He was the first entity, the primordial life, the origin of Quincy, Shinigami, Fullbring, and all powers. His mere existence could crush any obstacle, the closest thing to omniscience and omnipotence… a God."
Hearing these ancient secrets for the first time, Yamamoto's ability to remain rational was commendable, though questions still gnawed at him.
"If that's true… then who could've reduced the Soul King to this state?"
Ichibē maintained his placid demeanor.
"That brings us back to the original question."
"What do you think keeps these three worlds in existence?"
This time, Yamamoto dared not speak rashly.
Facing an ancient relic who'd lived since a million years past, the gap in knowledge between him and Ichibē was immeasurable.
The monk nodded calmly and began to explain.
"If I had to draw a comparison…"
He extended his hand.
At his fingertip, a seesaw materialized, three long poles joined at a single point.
At the end of each pole sat a cup of water.
Ichibē balanced the junction on his fingertip, holding it before Yamamoto.
"It's something like this."
Yamamoto's pupils narrowed, as if grasping something, yet he pressed, "What does this mean?"
"It means the Living World, Soul Society, and Hueco Mundo, each world is like one of these cups, and the water inside represents the total Reishi of that world."
"Because the poles vary in length, the cups differ in size. These three unstable worlds barely maintain a fixed connection."
"But if the Reishi in one world grows too abundant or too scarce, that end will tip."
As Ichibē spoke, he demonstrated before Yamamoto.
The cup representing the Soul Society suddenly lost half its water. The entire three-part structure tilted with the reduced weight.
Water spilled from the other two worlds' cups as well.
As the weight diminished, the stability of the three worlds faltered, until the contraption wobbled and fell from Ichibē's fingertip.
Splash.
The monk added sound effects, "And just like that, the three worlds collapse."
Yamamoto stood frozen.
So… easily?
"Wait."
"If it's that simple to destroy, how have the three worlds remained stable for a million years?"
"That's where the Soul King comes in."
Ichibē's fingertip conjured the three-pole structure once more.
But this time, at the center of the poles, a nail appeared.
It drove deep into his finger.
Now, whether the water in the three worlds increased or decreased, shook or steadied, the structure remained anchored to his hand.
It still trembled, but it no longer collapsed so readily.
"…"
Yamamoto stared at the tiny nail, momentarily at a loss for words.
Ichibē continued, "If you were to join the Soul King Palace, our task would be something like guarding this nail."
"And the reason I won't let you kill too many nobles ties into this."
"If possible, it's best not to spill too much water."
"Even though the nail is embedded deep in the flesh, its hold has limits, every time the three worlds 'shake,' the nail gets pried loose a little more."
"Until, eventually, it's pulled out entirely."
As if recalling something regrettable, the monk sighed softly.
Hearing this, Yamamoto unconsciously clenched his fists.
"If the safety of the three worlds is so vital, why do powerhouses like you let those nobles torment the Rukongai souls?"
"If you chose to act, who could defy you?"
"Why do you stand by and do nothing?!"
His roar echoed with conviction, straight from the heart.
But Ichibē didn't argue back. Instead, he countered calmly.
"How do you know we haven't tried?"
"Hm?"
Yamamoto faltered.
Ichibē went on, "Across a million years, anyone with a shred of wit could devise countless methods and strategies, but there are just as many unimaginable problems."
"Governance, laissez-faire, strict discipline, lenient laws, even supporting rebellions like yours…"
As if struck by an amusing memory, Ichibē added, "Speaking of which, the last guy who talked like you died nearly twenty thousand years ago…"
"Do you know what he did back then?"
Yamamoto frowned: "What?"
"In that era, the Five Great Noble Families had gone too far, codifying rituals and cannibalism into law. It sparked a rebellion even grander than yours."
Ichibē seemed to recall something amusing and chuckled softly, "Twenty thousand years ago, all five of the great noble families underwent a rather brutal 'purge.' Some even had their lines completely severed."
"How could that be possible?" Yamamoto responded instinctively.
"Why couldn't it be?" Ichibē countered, "Do you think you're the only hero or valiant soul in this world? Or do you believe that in the million years of Soul Society's history, everyone was just a bunch of spineless cowards too afraid to risk their lives?"
"Besides."
"Do you know which generation the current heads of the five great families belong to?"
"I…" Yamamoto opened his mouth to reply but suddenly froze as a realization hit him.
Ichibē continued, "Let's take someone you're familiar with as an example."
"That Chika Shihōin under your command, he's the twentieth head of the family."
"The twenty-first will be named Shūku."
"And the twenty-second will take the name Yoruichi Shihōin."
"The Kuchiki family cycles through even faster."
"That kid named Kuchiki Ginrei right now? He's already the twenty-sixth generation."
"Even if each head ruled for a thousand years, that's only a few tens of thousands of years in total. And honestly, it hasn't even been that long."
"Haven't you ever wondered about it?"
"With Soul Society's vast history, and their ancestors dating back to the time of the Soul King, why is it that these families have only passed down their legacies for such a short time?"
Ichibē clapped his hands together and smiled, "The answer is simple, they were wiped out by rebels far more radical and ruthless than you."
"Back then, we didn't stop it. We wanted to see what kind of world those rebels would build."
"In fact, we even fanned the flames a little."
"But unfortunately… the results weren't any better."
"The 'tribal alliance' those bastards established only lasted one or two millennia before it fell apart. They were just as rotten degenerate to an almost incomprehensible degree and the surviving noble remnants easily overthrew them."
"After that came endless wars and slaughter."
"It took a long, long time for this world to stabilize again, only to end up, by some twist of fate, right back where it started."
Yamamoto listened, utterly dumbfounded, too shocked to even speak.
All of this…
Had already happened?!
There had once been others who killed even more thoroughly than he did…?
And yet, everything still returned to how it was before.
If that was the case…
Then what was he supposed to do?
***
Bonus Chapter:
100 Power Stones = 1 BC
300 Power Stones = 2 BC
500 Power Stones = 3 BC
700 Power Stones = 4 BC
1000 Power Stones = 5 BC
***
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