Rage, frenzy, madness.
And finally… fear.
In mere moments, Shōgo's heart plummeted like a rollercoaster, dropping straight from its peak.
It was precisely because of his strength that he could sense, more acutely than any ordinary Shinigami, that Yamamoto's words were no empty threat.
Even if words could deceive and intent could be masked, the terrifying power erupting from Yamamoto's body was undeniable.
Both Yamamoto and Shōgo knew it well.
When this power reached its zenith, it could reduce this small Valley of Screams and every being within it below Tier-3 reiatsu to cinders.
"No! You can't… How dare you?!"
Shōgo roared loudly as if trying to banish the fear rapidly taking root in his core. With a guttural howl, he swung his blazing zanpakuto toward Yamamoto.
But Yamamoto's voice brooked no pause, thundering on.
"Zanka no Tachi..."
"Higashi - Kyokujitsujin!"
In an instant, the flames cloaking his body surged as if fed a flood of oxygen, blazing into a tangible form so vivid one could almost touch their shape.
Yamamoto's figure vanished from its spot, reappearing directly before Shōgo.
His blade slashed downward.
A torrent of flame, fiercer than Ryūjin Jakka's, cascaded relentlessly toward Shōgo, erupting into a sweeping wave like apocalyptic magma.
In this era, Yamamoto harbored no notions of preserving his squad's lives or the world's stability.
Once his blade was swung, it was always with full force.
The explosive fire swallowed Shōgo's form in an instant, along with any Shinigami within a few thousand meters who stood too close.
Wretched screams echoed endlessly as many fled in terror toward farther reaches.
Yet Yamamoto's blade didn't falter for a moment.
One slash, two, three…
A relentless tide of flame swept across the land.
Shōgo's feeble ember held for only a heartbeat within that inferno before vanishing.
Half the Valley of Screams was scorched into a barren waste.
Not just vegetation, even the soil vaporized into steam, the deepest layers of the blackened abyss crystallizing into vast sheets.
"Flee!"
"All of you, retreat to the Dangai at once!"
Behind Yamamoto, the captains and instructors led by Kinroku shouted urgently.
Kinroku brandished Fuhahara, tearing open a wide rift in space to reveal the pitch-black Dangai beyond.
Though the passage was unstable, it offered at least a sliver of hope.
At that moment, everyone understood clearly.
This Valley of Screams was finished.
The shinigami in the distance seized this lifeline, racing toward the spatial breach with all their might.
Meanwhile, Makoto ever prepared had somehow already positioned himself beside Unohana.
Seeing Yamamoto unleash his frenzy from afar, he furrowed his brow, subtly stepping in front of his beloved Unohana to shield her, watching the chaos unfold.
This time, he owed his zanpakuto a nod of thanks.
Unohana, unperturbed, noticed her disciple's protective gesture. With a slight lift of her wide sleeve, she gently pulled him behind her, guarding against stray harm.
Then, she turned her full attention to the rare spectacle of this battle.
Though Yamamoto's path diverged entirely from hers, lacking the supreme, unrelenting bloodlust of blade-on-blade combat she envisioned, it didn't stop Unohana from admiring the sheer, devastating force on display.
If she could, she'd relish a fight like the one before her, two warriors staking the world itself in a duel to the death.
The mere thought sent an irrepressible thrill through her.
A vivid smile crept across Unohana's pale face.
But not everyone in this world could comprehend such delight in slaughter.
Shōgo clawed his way out of the void.
The pervasive heat was now enough to evaporate his spiritual body, every inch of skin seemingly wreathed in invisible flames, peeling and cracking apart.
He was on the verge of madness.
"Yamamoto!"
"You bastard! Lunatic! Monster!"
In Shōgo's eyes, the fear he could no longer suppress threatened to spill over as he bellowed hoarsely at Yamamoto.
At first, he thought the gap between himself and Yamamoto was merely one of strength.
But once his Reiatsu reached its limit, he realized he lacked skill.
And when both were stripped away...
Shōgo discovered something else.
Even in resolve, he was no match for this man.
Yamamoto's ruthlessness wasn't reserved solely for his enemies.
At this moment, Shōgo finally understood.
From the very beginning, he'd never had the slightest chance of victory.
The instant this realization struck, Shōgo descended into madness.
"Fuhahara!"
"Shuketsukyū!"
"Ryūjin Jakka!"
"Genrei Maru!"
"Tamahagane!"
"Tetsuga Ran!"
From his mouth spilled name after name, each a Shikai once wielded by the captains in battles against Ōetsu Nimaiya's avatars, now laid bare.
Immense Reiatsu, terrifying abilities, intricate combinations.
Before the Enrakyōten, capable of replicating any Zanpakutō, all were elevated to their zenith.
They surged toward Yamamoto in a relentless barrage.
At the same time, the still-smoldering corpses of the Wanderer army scattered across the ground dissolved in a chorus of grotesque tearing, the cost of wielding Enrakyōten was the sacrifice of souls.
Yet Shōgo had temporarily shifted this price through a secret technique, unleashing boundless power without restraint.
But none of it could halt Yamamoto's advance.
Countless attacks struck him, only to be melted away by the Zanjitsu Gokui, its Reiatsu so dense it seemed tangible. Flames reaching fifteen million degrees Celsius warped even space-altering assaults into oblivion.
Witnessing this, Shōgo could bear it no longer. With a guttural roar, he charged at Yamamoto, his youthful face contorted in near-derangement.
Yet...
Slash!
The blade of concentrated, ferocious flame struck in an instant, cleaving through his assault. The edge sliced into his body like a hot knife through butter.
The next moment, that form, nearly beyond a Shinigami's limit, swelled and burst, disintegrating into an endless stream of fire.
Another death.
By now, the entire Valley of Screams blazed.
Vegetation and creatures had ignited into torches within the first few seconds.
Now, even the soil fueled the inferno.
The Valley of Screams, nurtured by the Tsunayashiro for over ten thousand years, had transformed into a flame-ravaged hellscape in mere moments.
Only a handful of stronger Shinigami still fled toward the passage Kinroku had torn open, dodging the relentless fire.
Shōgo revived once more.
But as he regained his form...
Seeing the Valley of Screams reduced to near-ashes, his sanity teetered on the edge of a precipice.
The Soul King's bone embedded in his chest still gleamed.
Yet he had no further room to grow.
"This can't be…"
Like a gambler who'd wagered everything only to lose it all, Shōgo's bloodshot eyes stared at the scene before him. A distorted roar, ignited by the warped air, tore from his throat.
"The Tsunayashiro… the order and rules we've guarded…"
"How could they crumble by my hand?!"
"Yamamoto… Yamamoto…"
Blood tears streaked down his youthful face.
Yamamoto's hand remained steady, his gaze equally frigid.
"Zanka no Tachi..."
"Minami - Kaka Jūman'okushi Daisōjin!"
In an instant, the earth between him and Shōgo melted into flowing magma, then erupted like solar prominences, arcing through the air in blazing curves. The surface temperature soared past six thousand degrees.
Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!
The Reimyaku network sustaining the Valley of Screams buckled under this force, trembling in the searing heat as if shaken by a magnitude-ten earthquake.
The once-clear sky turned a fiery red, the air fleeing outward under the intense heat. The foundational Reiatsu of the soil evaporated alongside it, forming vast plumes of gray-black smoke.
The world was evaporating.
At this point, the shinigami within the Valley of Screams had either escaped through the spatial passage or perished in the searing heat.
Only the captains, along with Makoto whose strength neared their level remained aloft, standing at the edge of the Garganta torn open by the spatial blade, silently observing the world's gradual demise.
Until today, aside from Yachiru Unohana, no one had truly witnessed Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto at his full might.
Now that they had, a heavy silence fell over them.
That power akin to a natural disaster was dishearteningly vast…
It felt impossible to even graze its edges.
Even someone as formidable as Unohana felt the same.
Only Makoto watched quietly, sensing that near-transcendent strength. He murmured softly.
"One day…"
[I'll make the heavens unable to shroud my eyes! I'll make this earth…]
"Shut up!"
Makoto felt a surge of enlightenment, only to be rudely interrupted by his zanpakuto.
That blasted thing was infuriating.
Among them all, Shōgo was the one who felt this power most acutely.
He hovered in midair, staring at Yamamoto standing not far before him as if his soul had fled his body.
At the same time, he felt his form steadily evaporating.
As he'd said before...
Shōgo's life had been briefly bound to this world through the Soul King's bone.
Naturally...
The annihilation and collapse of this Valley of Screams heralded his own end.
"It seems your weakness isn't just your Reiatsu."
"Even that blade can only mimic Shikai, unable to replicate others' Bankai, huh?"
"That saved me quite a bit of trouble."
Yamamoto stood cloaked in flames, wielding his scorched blade. Behind him stretched a land ravaged by a blistering hell, the air a crimson haze as if drenched in blood. Endless black smoke rose from the ground, billowing skyward until the entire world was consumed.
He gazed at this long-awaited foe, his voice calm.
"Hehe… hahahaha!"
Shōgo bowed his head, a sudden, guttural laugh tearing from his throat as if something had struck him.
"Yamamoto."
"You have no idea what the Tsunayashiro have been protecting."
"Now, since you've chosen to take on this Soul Society…"
"It's yours!"
His bloodshot eyes, veined with red, fixed on Yamamoto as his body melted under the extreme heat. With every ounce of strength, he roared.
"Didn't you want to protect the common folk?!"
"Then take it up yourself!"
"Yamamoto!"
"Let's see what you can do!"
"A ruthless bastard like you will change! You will!"
"You'll become… just like me!"
"You don't even understand this world's true nature!"
"You! Can't change a thing!"
Shōgo stared at him, his voice fading from a shriek to a whisper, as if it, too, were dying.
In this final moment, having exhausted all his cards, he'd long abandoned resistance.
Yet a chilling smile curled his lips, his gaze toward Yamamoto brimming with cold malice.
Yamamoto remained as ever unmoved, offering no response to those words.
His eyes stayed resolute, unwavering.
And just as ruthless and decisive!
He raised his blackened blade, delivering a final strike toward Shōgo.
"Zanka no Tachi.."
"Kita - Tenchi Kaijin!"
His blade moved deceptively slow yet struck with blinding speed, unleashing a radiant flash.
In that instant, Makoto's vision blurred into a white haze of embers, blinding him to all else.
When it cleared...
As he opened his eyes again.
Shōgo's head had vanished into the endless flames.
Only a broken corpse remained, sprawled across the steaming earth.
Throughout the Valley of Screams' relentless collapse...
The Soul King's bone in Shōgo's chest dissipated like smoke into the air.
This time, he did not rise again.
Yamamoto bent down, grasping Enrakyōten and planting its blade beside the corpse.
He turned, the fiery cloak fading from his form.
Back turned to the disintegrating world, he walked toward the Garganta.
As if nothing had happened.
…
[Bond Event: The Burning Crusade (Legendary)]
[Your bond level with Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto and Tsunayashiro Shōgo has increased! ↑]
[Rewards: Reiatsu+1, Talent Point +1]
[Acquired Bond Trait: Soul Incineration]
[Reiatsu: Tier-4 · Mid → Tier-4 · High]
[Bond Trait · Soul Incineration: By sacrificing the Soul King's power, you can briefly gain the strength to utterly reshape the world.]
[Note: You bore witness to a world's destruction and the fall of a bygone era, lending a push as the gates of this age slammed shut.]
***
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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