"The Royal Guard… they actually came."
Even Cole was a little surprised; he hadn't expected to alarm the Soul King Palace. Back when they fought Aizen, the captains of Seireitei had their heads nearly beaten into puppy paste, and not a single Royal Guard member showed. And now, for a mere zanpakuto rebellion, the Royal Guard descended in person.
"Heh…"
Cole's lip curled. "Told you—those lofty types can't sit still when danger touches them."
In the original tale, the reason those arrogant folks never appeared was simple: the old man carried his duty too well. Being known as the strongest shinigami in a thousand years meant he'd guarded Seireitei for a thousand years—and raised plenty of parasites along the way. Like the Royal Guard perched up high. Like the nobles with their matchless arrogance.
Now that the old man was sealed, one and all couldn't stay seated.
Soi Fong shot Cole a glare. "The Royal Guard's arrival means the crisis is already pressing down on us. How can you be laughing?"
"What's not to laugh about?" Cole sniffed. "If it were truly critical, why haven't the nobles shown their faces?"
The Royal Guard, at least, was a fighting organ. The nobles were parasites for real. Even if you got the odd exception like Byakuya, Yoruichi, or Nanao, it didn't redeem the overall rot.
"Nobles…" Soi Fong looked at Cole, vexed. She couldn't understand how he lacked any sense of rank.
The Royal Guard were the Soul King's special operatives. The Gotei Jūsan (Thirteen Court Guard Squads) existed to protect the nobles. The former guarded the Soul King Palace; the latter, Seireitei. In short, both organizations had been born to shield the nobles.
And this brat—born without any respect for station—actually wanted the nobles to fight.
When she said as much, Cole gave her a look of disbelief. "You're really that hidebound? Why protect the nobles? What about them needs protecting? With or without them, the world keeps turning."
He honestly couldn't understand. Was the slave-mindset that deep? In a world where individual might eclipsed institutions, how could such rigid classes still persist? Shouldn't it be survival of the fittest?
And from the sound of it, she wouldn't just protect them—she'd proudly lay down her life for them. That was dozens of times deeper than he'd imagined.
Soi Fong stamped her foot. "Talking sense with you is impossible, brat. I'm going to see which lord actually came."
She flashed away toward First Division.
Cole thought a moment, then stayed put—continuing to gnaw at the Shihoin estate. "Uncomfortable. I'd protect Seireitei, sure. I just didn't expect Seireitei to be a noble-protection racket…"
First Division, in ruins.
The golden cylinder of the Tenchuren (Heavenly Pill Palanquin) crashed down, grinding stone into powder. The quake drew a crowd of shinigami—Shunsui, Sajin, Jushiro, Toshiro, Ikkaku, Rangiku…
"Yare yare, they really came," Shunsui sighed, pressing his straw hat. He didn't need to imagine it: if the old man learned about this, he'd beat him black and blue.
Jushiro blinked. "Shunsui, you sound like you expected the Royal Guard."
So did the others.
Shunsui spread his hands. "It's Cole. He refused to help, so I kept contacting the Royal Guard."
"So they came for that?" Jushiro was even more surprised. The Royal Guard and Gotei sounded close, but in truth they were wholly different—one guarded the Soul King Palace, the other Seireitei. Under normal circumstances, even if Seireitei were annihilated, the Royal Guard might not move.
"As if!" Shunsui shook his head quickly. "You know their temperament. They don't come easily."
He'd reached out as soon as Yamamoto vanished and the Gotei took heavy losses. Not a peep. Only when he had no choice and painted the zanpakuto rebellion in the starkest colors did the Tenchuren finally descend.
"Big posture for the Royal Guard," Ikkaku muttered, eyes blazing as his hand drifted to his zanpakuto. "Wonder how strong they are."
Shunsui and Jushiro both started, hastening to warn him. "Don't you dare, Ikkaku. Even with bankai, ten of you couldn't beat one Royal Guard."
The rebellion had already revealed that Ikkaku had been hiding his true skill, but bankai or not, he was no match for a Royal Guard.
Soi Fong skidded in and stopped before the golden pillar. "Captain Shunsui, who is it?"
"No idea," Shunsui said. "But it's bound to be one of the usual few."
The Tenchuren's special plating blocked reiatsu probing; even captains couldn't sense inside. The Guard's roster hardly changed across centuries; odds were, it was one of them.
Jushiro coughed twice. "I hope it's the Third Officer, Western Divine General—Oetsu Nimaiya. He might know how to deal with the zanpakuto revolt."
Soi Fong frowned. "I know him. Intel says he's extremely willful."
Shunsui gave a helpless smile. "They guard the Soul King. Pride comes with the turf. We should be grateful anyone came at all."
Sajin asked, "Are the Royal Guard really that strong?" He'd only been captain a bit over a century. Toshiro, even less.
"To join the Royal Guard," Shunsui said after a pause, "your strength must be close to the old man's. In the past thousand years, only a handful ever qualified."
Sajin and Toshiro sucked in a cold breath. Close to Yamamoto—that was like a second "strongest of the millennium."
A rumble rolled closer and closer. A massive ruin blasted apart, and Kenpachi strode out with his battered blade on his shoulder.
He threw his head back, laughing. "Told you, Yachiru—just follow the trail of reiatsu and cut your way straight, you'll always find the enemy."
Behind him, Yachiru pouted. "Little Ken got spoiled by Little Cloud. He used to walk with me."
Ever since meeting Cole, Kenpachi had "seen the light": if there wasn't a road, he'd just cut one. Her gift for leading the way was going to waste.
Kenpachi twitched. "I did follow you. You walked me into seven dead ends."
Yachiru yanked his hair. "Oww, oww—"
Kenpachi endured the tugging and stared, fever-bright, at the Tenchuren. "Hey, Shunsui, what is that thing? That frightening reiatsu—did it come from there?"
Shunsui's headache doubled. He'd deliberately not notified Kenpachi, knowing he'd get lost. And the man still cut his way here.
Ikkaku babbled the news to Kenpachi, who only grew more feverish. "The Royal Guard, huh? Think they can make me enjoy a fight…?"
"Kenpachi, do not fool around," Shunsui blurted. "The Royal Guard don't have pleasant tempers—"
Before he finished, an opening irised in the cylindrical palanquin. Footsteps clicked—and out stepped a magnificently dressed, elegant woman: black mid-length hair in a side-part with intricate golden ornaments; a white mantle clasped at the chest; pale skin with the faintest makeup; a white long robe over violet inner wear. Exquisite. At first glance, more like a highborn noble than a shinigami.
Toshiro frowned. "That's…"
Soi Fong's gaze tightened. "A member of the king's special agency, the Royal Guard—Northern Divine General, bearing the title 'Great Weave Guard': Shutara Senjumaru."
Under a hundred stares, Senjumaru turned to Shunsui and smiled. "Captain Shunsui, your understanding of the Royal Guard is a tad off. My temperament is quite fine—and I'm very gentle with people."
Shunsui gave a wry laugh. "Senjumaru… not the time to tease me. You've been briefed, right?"
She nodded, glancing over the ruin that was First Division. A soft laugh escaped. "Yamamoto really is aging backwards—reduced to this by a trifling zanpakuto rebellion?"
Shunsui couldn't help a frown. So did the other captains. Yamamoto was still Seireitei's Head Captain. This woman showed no courtesy at all.
Jushiro coughed. "Don't underestimate that foe. He made our zanpakuto manifest and betray—"
"I know," Senjumaru cut him off with a light smile. "And even so, the Head Captain looks a touch incompetent, needing the Royal Guard to bail him out."
"Bwahahaha!" Kenpachi threw back his head. His eyes locked on Senjumaru, left hand gripping his tattered blade. "If you talk like that, you must be strong."
Senjumaru glanced at him—
—and Kenpachi burst forward, golden reiatsu roaring, a beast lunging for Senjumaru. "Show me your level!"
Shunsui's face changed; before he could stop him, Kenpachi was already on top of her, his storming blade crashing down in a golden gale—
Senjumaru's expression didn't shift. Still smiling, she slid six golden skeletal arms from beneath her white robe. "You must be Captain Kenpachi. I've heard of you—the beastly man who loves to fight…"
Her gentle voice rippled across the square, accompanied by a chorus of ringing metal. The six arms blurred, a sky of golden flowers. Every swing met Kenpachi's slashes perfectly, parrying them all. In mere seconds, blade and arms had collided thousands of times—and every one of Kenpachi's near-mad strikes was caught.
"So soft," Senjumaru murmured. "Like a spring drizzle."
Stepping in as his rhythm hit a hitch, her red lips curved. "Allow me to make you a suit."
Before Kenpachi could react, the six arms wove in a frenzy. In a single second, a white garment—like a restraint, like a chrysalis—wrapped him head to toe. A tug of golden arms, and the garment cinched tight, not only pinning his limbs but sealing the golden reiatsu he'd erupted. His spiritual pressure, which even Twelfth Division's custom eyepatch couldn't fully suppress, was bound completely; no matter how the tide surged, it couldn't break free of the white cocoon.
The other captains' scalps tingled. Kenpachi wasn't weak—yet this Royal Guard woman had easily one-shot him.
"Worthy of the king's special agency," Shunsui breathed, stepping forward. "Senjumaru, let me brief you on Seireitei's situation—"
"No need. Take me to Muramasa," she said mildly. "I cannot remain in Seireitei long. Let us resolve the matter swiftly."
(End of Chapter)
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