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The Cero struck in an instant, engulfing Moyu in a wave of obliteration that tore through the air with concussive force. The impact was so violent it swallowed the area whole, toppling towering buildings and cracking the earth as if struck by a magnitude-nine earthquake—and that was only the residual aftershock.
"A Shinigami?" Szayelaporro burst into wild laughter, eyes gleaming with sadistic joy. "Then become a true 'God of Death!' I'll preserve just enough of your soul to let you witness your own dissection! You'll gain a whole new understanding of what hell really means!"
Watching from afar, Mikami Saiki stood frozen, eyes wide and trembling. "L-Lord Moyu…" he whispered, paralyzed by the sheer destruction before him. Hit directly by such a devastating Cero—no one could possibly survive that kind of onslaught.
Despair clawed its way across Mikami's face as guilt crept into his thoughts. "It's all my fault... I shouldn't have called Lord Moyu… I shouldn't have…"
Before his remorse could drown him completely, a calm voice emerged from the center of the radiant blast, cutting through the noise and disbelief like a blade. "So... what exactly makes you so arrogant?"
Szayelaporro's deranged laughter stopped mid-cackle, his expression freezing in a twisted mix of confusion and fear. That voice—clear and composed—was coming from inside the blast zone, where no one should have been able to speak, let alone survive unscathed.
He had unleashed a full-powered Cero Oscuras, and yet the man stood there, untouched and speaking as if nothing had happened. Was this even possible? Could he possess hierro comparable to a Vasto Lorde?
As the blinding light faded, a figure emerged from within the dissipating radiance. Moyu, calm and composed, hovered mid-air with one arm outstretched. At his palm, pale bluish-white currents of wind coalesced into a barrier—spinning, whispering, and visibly shimmering in the debris-laden air.
Wind Barrier.
[Because your Zanpakutō resisted Cero Oscuras, it resonated with your intent. Tacit understanding increased.]
This was the power of Moyu's wind manipulation, far greater than he had anticipated.
Szayelaporro's eyes widened, and he stumbled backward as realization struck him. "This... this is impossible! A wind-based barrier blocked a Cero Oscuras?! That blast bends time and space!"
Even Moyu had to admit he hadn't foreseen this exact result. He had assumed his strength merely matched Szayelaporro's, but this outcome made it clear he had already surpassed the 8th Espada. Both his spiritual pressure and Zanpakutō evolution had reached depths even he couldn't fully measure, suggesting this battle might be far easier than he had initially believed.
From a distance, Mikami Saiki's eyes welled with tears, overwhelmed by the sight of Moyu still standing strong. "Thank the heavens... Lord Moyu is still alive!"
With a gentle wave of his hand, Moyu dispersed the swirling wind before him. His voice, now icy and unyielding, echoed across the broken battlefield. "Nothing is impossible. You're too weak to even understand what strength is."
Raising his hand once more, Moyu summoned white energy to his fingertips as he prepared to strike. "In any case... allow me to return the favor."
"Hadō no Yon: Byakurai."
As the words left his lips, arcs of white lightning surged outward, crackling violently as they formed jagged spears in the air. Thunder roared across the shattered skies of Karakura, and a blinding bolt lanced forward, carving a blazing path through the heavens.
BOOM—
Szayelaporro couldn't even react. His power, already diminished from splitting into multiple bodies, failed to offer him the reflexes or strength to counter the lightning that now tore through his chest.
"Damn you—!" was all he could scream before the bolt struck, searing through flesh and soul, leaving a gaping, smoldering hole in its wake. The once-proud Espada looked utterly ravaged, with charred flesh reeking of burning decay and a storm of ash and blood drifting in the air.
[Your Hadō no. 4: Byakurai pierced through Espada's chest. You've touched its deeper essence. Potential unlocked...]
Moyu blinked, registering the unexpected message. Could Byakurai still evolve?
"I will reduce you to cells and trap your soul in a specimen jar!" Szayelaporro shrieked, his voice gurgling as his body twisted grotesquely, attempting to repair the fatal wound.
High-Speed Regeneration—one of the defining traits of elite Arrancar—but in his case, it was laughably inferior. Nowhere near Nnoitra's formidable recovery, and leagues below Ulquiorra's near-immortality, Szayelaporro's chances of lasting more than a few minutes in the Living World looked grim—unless he had something drastic in reserve.
With trembling fingers, he drew his Zanpakutō, and a sinister gleam flickered in his eyes.
"Sip... Fornicarás!"
Without hesitation, he thrust the blade into his mouth and swallowed it whole.
The sky ruptured with the release of immense spiritual pressure, which surged from his body like a monstrous tidal wave. Purple light erupted and spiraled upward, piercing through the clouds as the ground beneath them shook violently.
His body began to swell, grotesquely distorting and expanding, until it exploded in a flood of purple-black fluid that rained down like a corrosive storm.
"HAAAHHHH—AHHHHH!!" Szayelaporro's shrill laughter echoed across the ruined skyline as his form reconstituted from the deluge. Fully restored, he emerged with that same manic grin, eyes burning with bloodlust.
"Pathetic insect! I'll tear your soul into pieces!!"
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