Meanwhile, in Las Noches.
High upon his throne, Baraggan Louisenbairn gazed at the crescent moon hanging in the distant sky, sensing a peculiar disturbance in the reishi.
Though it had been a long time, within the span of his millennia-long existence, this reiatsu felt relatively recent.
"Is this... the reiatsu of that young Shinigami?"
"But this Hollow power, entwined on the outer edges, where does it come from?"
Noticing their leader's murmured musings, an Adjuchas, nearly humanoid but with faint crocodilian traits on its back, sidled closer to the bone-white throne. With utmost reverence, it bowed low and whispered, "Baraggan-sama, do you have any orders?"
"Nothing." Baraggan replied.
His skeletal frame, decayed to little more than bones, made it difficult for even his long-serving Adjuchas to gauge his mood beyond subtle shifts in tone. As he lowered his voice slightly, the surrounding Adjuchas grew even more deferential, not daring to show the slightest hint of defiance.
Ever since that wretch Szayelaporro resurfaced two hundred years ago, declaring his departure from Baraggan's ranks, the former king had become especially vigilant about his subordinates' loyalty.
Or perhaps, with a soul rooted in "aging." Baraggan had never possessed any ambition to begin with.
His only reliance was the power of decay, capable of eroding all things.
It was precisely this betrayal by one of the few Vasto Lordes under his command that made him particularly vengeful.
"By the way." Baraggan suddenly spoke, as if recalling something, "where is that one you captured, the one with the potential to become a Vasto Lorde?"
"Bring him to me."
"Yes, Baraggan-sama!"
It wasn't long before the Hollows returned, accompanied by the clank of heavy chains. A massive Adjuchas appeared, sporting six arms, each tipped with scythe-like bone protrusions.
His arms, legs, and ankles were bound by specialized spirit-sealing shackles, a remnant of Szayelaporro's experiments.
Yet, despite the humiliation of being dragged in, the Adjuchas remained silent, his gaze cold and steady as he surveyed everyone in the palace.
Only when his eyes met Baraggan's hollow sockets did he pause briefly, as if sensing something.
He observed Baraggan, and Baraggan observed him in return.
As a Vasto Lorde who had existed for over ten thousand years, the uncrowned king of Hueco Mundo, Baraggan had encountered countless warriors and monsters, too many to tally.
This experience allowed him to instantly discern whether someone possessed the potential to become a true powerhouse.
'Multiple arms, a relatively agile frame... and resilient steel-like skin?'
With a single glance, Baraggan noted the Adjuchas's unique traits.
Not bad.
Pondering this, Baraggan sat upright on his throne, resting his chin on his left hand. "State your name, Adjuchas."
The Adjuchas, dragged into Las Noches, remained silent, standing tall despite knowing the figure before him was a Vasto Lorde far surpassing his own strength. He showed not a trace of fear.
Instead, Baraggan saw something familiar in his eyes.
The scent of bloodlust, and ambition.
But the other Adjuchas, his subordinates, could not ignore such defiance.
The crocodilian-skinned Adjuchas yanking the chains kicked him hard in the knee, forcing his shoulders and two arms down, compelling him to kneel.
"You wretch!"
"You stand before the legendary Baraggan-sama!"
"How dare you show such disrespect!"
At this outcry, the other Adjuchas serving as attendants roared in unison, as if venting long-suppressed fury.
Yet, with a slight wave of Baraggan's hand from his throne, all voices fell silent.
Baraggan calmly regarded the Adjuchas before him, awaiting his response.
"…"
"Nnoitra Gilga."
Finally, he spoke, his voice hoarse and cold.
"Well done, Nnoitra."
"From this day forward, you are my subordinate."
"But…"
Baraggan paused, his tone shifting as he eyed Nnoitra's battered, scar-ridden form. Turning to the crocodilian-skinned Adjuchas, he asked, "Grensor, was it you alone who defeated him?"
The Hollow named Grensor stiffened, about to respond, when a voice cut him off.
"No way!"
Nnoitra, clearly despising being underestimated, shouted, "That guy just got lucky!"
"I… I was…"
But as he tried to recount what happened, Nnoitra, who had maintained an arrogant demeanor since entering Las Noches, seemed to tense involuntarily.
"…I've never seen a guy like the one who beat me."
As he spoke, Baraggan seemed to sense something, abruptly tilting his head toward the sky.
Then, a colossal beast, vast as a mountain range, appeared abruptly at the edge of Las Noches' outer wall.
Its entire upper body loomed over the ramparts.
What was this thing?
How had something so massive gone unnoticed until now?
Two questions surged in Baraggan's mind as his hollow skeletal eye sockets fixed on the distant monster, faint ghostly flames flickering within.
No matter.
With a sharp "clang," a black great axe materialized in his hand.
…
In the eastern wastelands of Hueco Mundo.
A soft "jingle" rang out.
A canine Hollow, adorned with a copper bell and a bone mask, wagged its tail gleefully in midair, gently set down in the white desert by a pair of delicate hands.
Even as it landed, it seemed puzzled, tilting its small head to look at the woman before it… or perhaps, a female knight?
Its sturdy hooves trod the soft sand with remarkable grip, though its occasional uneasy steps stirred faint clouds of dust.
Above its antelope-like neck, a strikingly alluring female torso emerged.
Neliel Tu Odelschwanck's bone armor, resembling a knight's, had spread further since three hundred years ago, now encasing her arms and torso completely.
In her hands, she still gripped her heavy, double-horned lance.
Yet the near-custom bone armor perfectly accentuated her figure, lifting her full curves while sky-blue hair cascaded from beneath her antelope-style helmet, her gaze fixed on the distance, lips slightly parted.
"What… is that?"
At the center of Neliel's vision, flowing sand rose like a cascading waterfall, swirling upward from a void in the earth, as if lifted by something immense.
No, something was wrong.
As the endless sand fell away, revealing the massive figure beneath, Neliel's thoughts froze.
Her pupils dilated.
The figure, as all could see, was like a mountain or a ridge.
Before Nel could react, the ultra-dense reishi radiating from her drew the creature's attention.
Frankenstein opened its massive maw.
A blazing Cero erupted.
…
Boom!
Tier Harribel stood stunned, watching a gigantic hand sweep past from behind the two figures before her, her body momentarily frozen.
But this hand, far swifter than the one faced by Ryoma's squad, moved with terrifying speed.
Wait…
Makoto-sama?!
Snapping out of the shock, Harribel turned sharply toward the figure hurtling away.
There, Makoto cradled Katori, his clothes tattered, his appearance haggard.
Blood trickled from his forehead and mouth as he struggled to lift his head toward her, as if trying to speak.
In the end, he slumped powerlessly into a cratered tree hollow, eyelids half-closed.
He seemed on the brink of death.
Harribel couldn't hold back.
What was happening?
What had just occurred?
As these thoughts raced through her mind, she instinctively raised her greatsword, once a bone fin, now her signature weapon.
High-density reiatsu, rivaling a Cero, gathered swiftly at the blade's tip.
"La Gota!"
The explosive air-compression blast, condensed under reiatsu, reached extreme density. The force unleashed in that instant surpassed even a thermobaric bomb.
The erupting airflow deflected Frankenstein-2's massive arm, its overwhelming power too much for even its colossal frame to withstand.
Seizing the brief opening, Harribel shot forward along the angle formed by the creature's arm and a tree trunk. Her streamlined, shark-like form allowed her to move through the air as gracefully as a fish in water.
Her feet landed on the monster's arm, the blade's edge gathering a high-density stream of reishi. As it grazed Frankenstein's steel-like skin, a metallic clash rang out, like true swords colliding.
The blade carved a trail of sparking embers, racing from wrist to shoulder.
Bang!
Her pale bone-heeled boots took a final step, striking the resilient Hierro with a deep, muffled thud.
Her greatsword's surface surged with searing streams of reishi, flowing rapidly and spiraling to form a half-ring of cutting force, like a water blade.
"Cascada!"
The cascading flow erupted.
Sharper than any water blade, the torrent unleashed a piercing wail, as if it could rupture eardrums.
For Frankenstein-2, standing in its path, the effect was undeniable.
Even its pillar-like neck, under the slash of Cascada, was like a great tree under a chainsaw, carved open with a meters-long arc amid a shrill screech.
"ARRRRRRHH!"
The malformed soul, stitched from countless monsters, let out a mournful bellow, duller than a sudden storm.
Amid a spray of blood, the creature's head tilted sharply to one side, its upper body gradually following.
Yet, as Harribel turned to face it, the creature's tilting form suddenly froze, as if paused.
"High-speed regeneration again?"
As a fellow Hollow, Harribel knew her kind's abilities all too well.
But as she raised her blade for another strike, her movements halted.
Her pupils constricted.
Crunch!
The sound of grinding bones and reassembling fragments echoed in her ears.
In her vision, at the gash nearly severing Frankenstein's neck, crude stitches seemed to weave chaotically, like a child's clumsy sewing, mending the wound's center.
From beneath the skin, a humanoid outline emerged abruptly.
First a face, then shoulders, then the entire upper body…
Harribel stared, speechless with shock.
"What in the world…?"
Before she could react, the figure emerging from the wound turned, gazing toward the collapsed tree hollow.
Szayelaporro's face bore his signature twisted grin as he spread his arms wide toward Makoto's prone form, his voice rising sharply.
"What a pity, Chōjirō Sasakibe!"
"After such a long-awaited reunion, your progress is so disappointing."
"Stand up!"
His eyes widened, and Frankenstein-2, beneath him, tilted its neck in sync.
Its gaping maw gathered dense reishi, compressed under Szayelaporro's will to maximize their power.
Bolstered by this immense force, Szayelaporro's voice grew more unhinged, his hands clawing into his skull as if tormented, his frenzied demeanor that of a terminally obsessed maniac.
"With only this level of reiatsu, how can you complete my 'Frankenstein Colony Plan'?"
"But, fortunately…"
He paused, turning to Harribel, still frozen in place, his tongue flicking across his lips.
"There's a substitute."
At that moment, Frankenstein-2's Cero reached its peak compression.
In an instant, it condensed to a single point.
But just as the Cero was about to fire...
Clang!
A clear blade's ring pierced the air.
In that instant, Szayelaporro felt his long hair yanked taut by an irresistible force, his head and spine stretched into a single line.
At the center of his vision, a radiant arc of light consumed his senses.
Only in the next prolonged moment did Makoto's figure appear in his eyes.
Harribel looked up, witnessing the scene.
An arc, as if slicing through space itself, cut through both Frankenstein and Szayelaporro's necks, leaving a trace in her vision.
This line seemed to sever everything in its path, muscle, bone, skin, even the surrounding trees and stone, all cleaved in two.
What… what power was this?
Only then did Szayelaporro's severed head register Makoto's flat, unyielding voice:
"I thought something formidable was hiding inside, making me worry for nothing."
"Just a little punk."
***
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
***
If you want to read up to 50 chapters ahead, don't hesitate to visit our patron: pat reon . com / XElenea (removespace)