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Boom—
A violent roar echoed across the Forest of Menos Grande, and in the blink of an eye, where Moyu's thunder dragon struck, it was as if a second sun had ignited underground. Dazzling light surged outward, illuminating several miles in blinding radiance as thunder engulfed the land. Quartz trees ruptured and collapsed, torn from their roots, while the earth heaved and wailed as if trying to reject the spiritual chaos pouring into it. Soil rolled and fractured, thunder cracked through the foundation of Hueco Mundo, and countless bolts of lightning tore wildly through the dark.
Screams, caught beneath the weight of it all, were swallowed whole by thunder.
The carnage didn't settle until long after the two Shinigami had landed, and Shihouin Yoruichi, having witnessed the entire scene from midair, could only stare in stunned silence. Moments ago, she'd been contemplating how to deal with the surge of Menos Grande below them. But now, before she'd even touched the ground, Moyu had reduced the entire threat to scorched ash with a single move. One spell. One Kidō.
Her golden eyes turned to him slowly, unable to hide her disbelief. "The Kidō you just used…"
Only now did the words Moyu had muttered earlier resurface in her mind.
Ri Kidō · The Four Ways · Day and Sun Thunder.
As the former head of the 2nd Division and one of the Five Great Noble Houses, Yoruichi understood exactly what that meant. Ri Kidō wasn't some variant or offshoot of Hadō—it stood above it. An evolved form of spellcraft, known only to a handful in Soul Society. It surpassed ninety percent of conventional Kidō in raw power. Only a rare few Hadō could be considered its equal. But for Yoruichi, the strength alone wasn't what shook her. It was the origin—because mastering Ri Kidō required deep, high-level access. As far as she knew, only Zero Division members possessed that kind of command over spiritual law.
Moyu's expression remained calm. "The inside story of the Kuchiki House," he said, not even flinching as the lie passed through his lips with surgical ease.
Yoruichi's brows furrowed. That answer was too clean. Too rehearsed.
She'd known the Kuchiki family her entire life. Whether it was the stoic Kuchiki Ginrei or the aloof and proper Byakuya, she had more than a passing familiarity with their spiritual doctrines. And yet not once, in all her years, had she ever heard of a Ri Kidō legacy being passed down within their ranks. If such knowledge had existed in their bloodline, even buried in archives, it would've stirred ripples across the Noble Clans.
Still, Moyu remained unreadable.
His secrets didn't just lie hidden—they seemed to multiply the longer one stayed near him.
Yoruichi sighed quietly and let the issue pass—for now. Whatever the truth, she'd have to unravel it later. Right now, they were deep inside Hueco Mundo, and danger pressed in on every side. After the lightning faded, darkness flooded back in like floodwater. The only light came from distant quartz trees faintly glowing like lanterns in a void.
She turned northward and pointed toward the shadows ahead. "Our destination's that way. Based on the spiritual traps Urahara set, the strongest Reiatsu activity is around 1,200 kilometers deeper in."
Moyu nodded, his expression sharpening as he scanned the darkness. Ever since stepping into the forest, he'd felt an unnatural pressure bearing down on him—a kind of weightless suffocation, like sinking into an ocean of static. It wasn't physical. It pressed on the mind, the soul. A lesser being would've collapsed just walking this far, but both Moyu and Yoruichi were used to spiritual intensity at this scale.
They moved quickly, slipping through the twisted terrain of the Menos Forest with their Reiatsu tightly suppressed. Even so, the path wasn't without obstruction. Hollow groups emerged from time to time—many of them Menos Grande, and among them, more than one Adjuchas. Moyu noted each with a clinical eye and dispatched them effortlessly. His fists moved like anchors, shattering skulls with silent grace.
"This is worse than I expected," he said, exhaling slowly after reducing another Gillian to mist. "I've seen more of them in the last few hours than I've encountered my entire time in the World of the Living. Since when did they start moving in flocks?"
Yoruichi grimaced, swiping a streak of Hollow blood from her cheek. "Something's drawing them. There's a lure, and we're probably inside its range without even knowing it."
Just as she said that, Moyu stopped abruptly.
His eyes narrowed, focusing on a rising cloud of spiritual dust ahead, off to the left.
It wasn't just more Menos.
It was a swarm.
From the shifting dust, their silhouettes emerged—dozens upon dozens of towering figures, black as ink and massive as monoliths. The ground trembled beneath their synchronized march, but what arrested Moyu's attention was not the menace—
It was what they were chasing.
A tiny figure darted across the sands ahead of the horde, moving with desperation. Her frame was small—childlike. Shaggy green hair bounced wildly with every frantic step. A faded blue cloak fluttered behind her like torn cloth caught in a storm. She wasn't just running—she was weeping.
Tears streamed down her face as she wailed, her cries echoing with heartbreak.
"N-Nelliel is scared! Waaaah! Don't let N-Nel be eaten!"
Moyu's jaw stiffened. Yoruichi, beside him, blinked in disbelief.
A child... in Hueco Mundo?
And she was about to be swallowed by an entire column of Menos Grande.
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