Crack! Crack! Crack!
In the scorched dust, the grating sound of grinding bones echoed relentlessly. The barely humanoid form, fracturing and splintering, trembled as its near-skeletal arms propped it up from the ground.
Makoto could clearly see pale fluid surging from within Ciel's body, struggling to smother the black flames on its surface.
Its reiatsu continued to climb, as if without limit, rising ever higher!
"Crush!"
From its charred throat, a clear human voice emerged.
It forced its head up.
The half-burned frame, driven by some unknown force, pulled its broken body upright, stepping forward.
One step. Two.
The pale substance gradually restored its form.
Thud!
Its foot sank into the soft sand.
Katori's eyes remained a piercing white, as if seeing through all. The flames of her Bankai swirled like ribbons around her, unhindering her movements.
Buzz!
A bone blade extended from Ciel's wrist, piercing the air with a shrill hum.
Katori tilted her cheek, a few strands of hair severed as she leaned forward, her wakizashi thrusting toward his throat.
Ciel barely raised his arm to block, but the blade grazed his steel skin, effortlessly carving a bleeding gash into his shoulder.
Her movements were fluid, almost dance-like, unpredictable yet precise, leaving marks on his resilient steel skin with every strike.
Black flames burned in the wounds, searing his soul.
Ciel roared in rage and agony, driven by survival to boost his speed, strength, and defense, yet it was futile.
Their clash was a blur, too fast for the eye to follow, whether it was her slashes, his dodges, or the interspersed Kidō and Cero.
Tier Harribel watched, dazzled.
Makoto, however, noticed something, his eyes locked on Katori's movements.
Close observation revealed each of her actions was calculated to the smallest degree, executed with minimal effort.
Rational and cold, she dismantled Ciel's resistance.
In contrast, none of Ciel's attacks landed on her.
This was Katori's Bankai.
Dhyana, stillness, focus.
In this state, she perceived everything as if frozen, her mind honed to absolute clarity.
If sustained, she was confident she could stand undefeated, even against Yamamoto or Makoto.
But it was too slow.
As potent as her Bankai's amplification was, its emotional toll was equally intense.
Katori felt herself degrading from human to machine, her perceptions numbing, as if part of her soul burned away with the black flames.
Even the darkest emotions were part of her "self."
If lost, she would no longer be whole.
So…
Katori's steps halted, her relentless movements pausing.
She opened her mouth slightly.
The soul-searing flames drove Ciel to near madness.
Noticing her pause, he reacted like a desert wanderer stumbling upon an oasis.
His reiatsu surged, pale fluid flooding like water, forming armor-like layers over his limbs, shaping curved blades at his arms, wrists, and elbows.
Air burst beneath his exposed foot bones, his form propelled to a new peak of power.
His arm swung, tracing a pale crescent moon through the air.
But at that moment, a phrase escaped her lips.
"Samatha."
The instant the words left her mouth, Ciel, Harribel, and even Makoto, watching from afar, experienced a fleeting "gap" in their vision.
As if time itself had been snipped, leaving a stark void.
Ciel, closest, felt it most acutely.
Frozen in his full-force attack, his body was "paused." unable to move.
His vision drained to black and white, his surging reiatsu restrained within, all momentum and force trapped, compressing painfully inside.
As if, in that brief moment, he alone was torn from the world.
Trapped in absolute stillness.
Yet his senses and mind remained active, disconnected from his body.
In that process, he clearly saw Katori's fluid, unhesitating slash.
The black blade traced a crescent, effortlessly slicing along his outstretched arm, straight for his neck.
Ciel could only watch.
The blade cut through steel skin, severed neck bone, and exited the other side, leaving a smooth cut.
His vision spun, his head falling.
Katori, wreathed in flames, appeared behind him, silent.
Samatha - One of the threefold Samadhi.
It stills all afflictions, anchoring in calm, hence its name.
Dhyana means "focus."
Samatha means "stop."
In that fleeting moment, both Ciel and Katori were stripped of time's flow, locked in absolute stillness.
But one could move freely, while the other could not.
To onlookers, Katori seemed to flash behind Ciel with blinding Shunpo, severing his head.
The act was effortless, weightless.
Hiss!
As the blade fell, her Bankai's flames dissolved, dispersing.
Like Ciel's body, collapsing into charred ash, it scattered skyward, breaking into Hueco Mundo's fundamental spiritual particles.
Makoto watched her silently, pensive.
In that fleeting gap, he'd sensed the danger coiled in her strike.
And perhaps gained a deeper understanding of "Bankai."
As she'd said, Bankai was the soul's root.
What, then, lay at the depths of his own soul?
The thought rose unbidden.
[Bankai lesson in progress - Breakthrough insight ↑]
[Talent point +1]
[Katori-chan's the best! Showing me her innermost self, so bold!]
[It's settled, she's my wife now!]
[Marriage! I'm marrying her!]
Before he could delve deeper, his Zanpakutō's boisterous declarations shattered his focus.
Makoto, face darkening, ignored its chatter and strode toward the battlefield.
Noticing his movement, Harribel hesitated, then followed with quick steps.
Ciel's charred corpse lay fallen, his head rolled aside.
The pale steel skin on his face steamed like ash in vapor, his emerald eyes still wide, unyielding in death.
His body dissolved into a skeleton faster than an average Hollow.
Within moments, it was mostly gone.
Clearly, this was the effect of her Bankai, not a direct attack, but a unique "rule."
Even Makoto couldn't underestimate such power.
"Not bad, Katori."
"Taking down a creature like that in just a few moves."
Their entire battle, post-Bankai, lasted mere seconds, partly because her Bankai couldn't be sustained long.
But as he approached, he sensed something off, frowning. "Katori?"
She smiled gently. "Makoto-kun."
"Here."
"Come closer."
Makoto stepped forward.
Then, Katori seemed to relax entirely, collapsing forward with a thud.
He caught her in his arms.
Harribel, just catching up, widened her eyes, then glanced around nervously, stepping back instinctively.
Katori's body was soft, boneless, her cheek pressed against his chest as she took a deep breath.
"Nice, the firm body of a young man."
"Let me recharge a bit."
"Today's emotional toll will take at least thirty years to recover."
"All spent for you, Makoto-kun."
Makoto's face darkened, his tone dry. "That's a heavy statement, Katori."
"Are you the type who, right after dating, rushes to talk about marriage and kids?"
"Scary."
Hearing this, Katori felt a faint ripple stir in the calm depths of her heart, still recovering from her Bankai's toll. The slight damage to her soul began to mend.
"Who knows." She said with a playful shrug.
"Hm?!"
Ignoring Makoto's mild protest, she leaned into him under the guise of their uneven exchange, settling comfortably onto his back.
Her slender arms hooked around his neck, her cheek pressed against his broad shoulder, a soft smile playing on her lips.
A subtle sense of security washed over her.
Her eyelids grew heavy.
Typically, a Shinigami's Bankai amplifies reiatsu five to ten times beyond Shikai, unleashing formidable power.
But due to Katori's unique Bankai, hers surged twentyfold or more.
Such an extreme outburst placed an unbearable strain on both soul and spirit body.
Though the battle lasted mere seconds, she'd be unable to move freely for at least three days.
Of course, if Makoto-sama could spark some intense emotions in her, she might recover a bit faster.
Makoto grumbled briefly but said little else.
A talent point for carrying her? He'd take that deal any day.
"Hm?"
As the thought crossed his mind, he sensed something and crouched, retrieving a pale bone fragment from Ciel's charred remains.
Even as he held it, the fragment seemed to writhe, as if alive.
"Harribel?"
He turned to the dark-skinned Vasto Lorde. "Have you seen anything like this?"
Shinigami knowledge of Hueco Mundo paled compared to a Hollow's.
Harribel studied the fragment, her brow furrowing uncertainly. "Makoto-sama, this looks like… a mask?"
"A mask?"
Makoto paused.
Just as a Zanpakutō embodies a Shinigami's essence, a mask holds profound significance for a Hollow.
An Adjuchas consumed partially by another of its kind could still resist. But losing even a piece of its mask meant forgoing any chance of becoming a Vasto Lorde.
In a sense, a mask was the materialized essence of a Hollow's soul.
Makoto raised the fragment to the faint light of the ceiling moss, noting the glowing tracks tracing its surface.
His mind flashed to the pale substance repeatedly surging from Ciel's body.
"Szayelaporro used this to push that thing beyond its limits?"
"And beyond that…"
His expression grew heavier as he glanced at the glowing tracks faintly visible in the Forest of Menos.
Clearly, if this area was left unchecked, creatures like Ciel would keep emerging.
That would put even the Soul Society under significant strain.
This problem needed to be dealt with.
"Harribel."
"Yes."
"Send the signal. Recall all scouting teams and prepare to withdraw."
"Yes!"
…
After the signal, the scouting teams retraced their paths, exiting the Forest of Menos to the passage connecting the surface and underground.
But upon returning, they found only Harribel, carrying a sleeping Katori on her back.
Makoto was nowhere to be seen.
Sōsuke's brow twitched subtly, but his cautious nature kept him silent.
Jūshirō, however, stepped forward, addressing Harribel. "Captain Harribel."
"Where is Captain Makoto now?"
"And that signal…?"
Harribel didn't immediately register the title, given Shinigami prejudice toward Hollows.
Realizing the question, she calmly pointed toward the Forest of Menos. "He's there."
"As for the retreat signal…"
Before she could finish, a suffocating burst of reiatsu erupted from the distant ceiling.
In an instant, the ferocious wave drew every gaze.
Sōsuke's head snapped up, eyes fixed on the source.
It was as if he were back to that night he first witnessed a Hadō in the nineties.
But this time, Makoto wasn't holding back.
"Hadō #91..."
"Senjū Kōten Taihō!"
The initial chant was lost, drowned in the final, earth-shattering cry.
In the eyes of every Shinigami gazing skyward, a pale red starlight gleamed like an apocalyptic rain.
For the first time in endless ages, the darkened Forest of Menos was illuminated.
The silent white desert faced an unprecedented cataclysm.
Boom!
The earth thundered, sand leapt, dust swirled.
A radiance akin to a natural disaster obliterated everything in an instant.
That moment seared itself into the deepest memories of all present, unforgettable until death.
---
Hi guys, Elenea here! I just want to announce that starting now I'll be trying to focus on my own original fanfic, which I've been thinking about for the past few days (lol I really mulled this over briefly for a few days and decided I'm going to make it a full novel).
[Worse Than the Devil (DxD)]
Synopsis:
Devil.
An evil and chaotic creature, born from hell, which are often a scapegoat for humans. Blamed for the atrocities they themselves commit.
"The devil made me do it."
A phrase always uttered by humans after committing crimes, casting blame and responsibility for their wrongdoings onto the devil.
But not all humans are like that, for there is one man who would gleefully commit atrocities that would be condemned by all of human history and accept the blame and responsibility for those wrongs with open arms.
His name is Michael, but in stark contrast to the meaning of his name 'Who is like God' he is not a devout man who draws near to God's embrace. Instead… he is the one who sends lost sheep to meet God's embrace much faster.
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Btw, a quick note before you decide to read, if you have a heart as pure as glass, I suggest you don't read this because it REALLY gets dark to early. The first chapter will give you a little idea of what I might explore later on in this fanservice harem-themed world like DxD.
Adios!