Arima Shinya wasn't surprised by this outcome.
After all, he already had more than enough information in hand — this wasn't his first time facing Kiganjo Kenpachi, and with Aizen's assistance, the troublesome members of the Eleventh Division had all been cleared away.
The "parameters" that could influence his predictions were already more or less fixed.
Facing the labyrinth that resembled a lifeless entity, Arima Shinya had already found the location of the exit.
It was here…
The spiritual pressure, gathered and retracted within him, condensed throughout his body, and under deliberate control, was shaped into a blade as sharp as a dagger's edge.
A step forward, a sidestep.
An extremely simple, almost "abstract" movement — yet it precisely avoided the vertical slash aimed straight at his face.
Arima Shinya had evaded it.
But the gust of malice and killing intent stirred by that strike did not fade; instead, it was like slender needles piercing through his clothing and pricking into his flesh.
Had he been hit directly, even in his current state, he probably would've lost the ability to move in an instant.
How terrifying.
Thinking so, Arima Shinya reversed his blade, thrusting it straight toward Kiganjo's chest.
The movement was straightforward and simple, yet struck at an oddly precise angle, piercing Kiganjo's torso.
He landed the hit — yet Arima Shinya couldn't feel a hint of satisfaction.
The feedback was too shallow; it felt like stabbing into an unyielding steel plate.
"Oi, brat."
Kiganjo's cold sneer carried not a shred of mercy.
"This time you're not going for a sneak attack? Did last time's failure to kill you make you confident in your strength?"
"Though I'll admit you've improved a bit, thinking you can fight me…"
"You're underestimating me too much!"
With a shout, Kiganjo's furious eyes widened. He raised his leg and kicked viciously toward Arima Shinya!
Arima's expression didn't change at all. He simply shifted half a step to the side, dodging the heavy blow aimed at his chest.
Then he half-lifted his right hand, rapidly condensing spiritual pressure in his palm until it took shape.
A vivid, blazing crimson hue boiled forth, igniting the air and painting it in searing, blinding light.
Hadō #31 — Shakkahō!
The air contracted—
—and exploded in an instant.
BOOM!!!
The flames of Kidō erupted skyward in a spiraling blast.
To cause such a scene and still remain confident — that was only because Aizen was there to cover him if things went wrong.
Using the momentum, Arima Shinya widened the distance, retreating and stopping more than ten meters away.
Everything that had just happened — the exchanges, the attacks, the evasions — were all within his predictions. No surprises at all.
This was exactly the future Arima Shinya had foreseen.
He silently tightened his grip on his Zanpakutō, a sigh echoing in his heart.
As I thought… too shallow.
The difference in spiritual pressure levels was something tangible — for Shinigami, it was an insurmountable gulf.
His attacks would be canceled, while his opponent's strikes could easily double in force.
That imbalance was precisely the problem Arima Shinya had to face.
Previously, his sneak attack had caught Kiganjo off guard, inflicting an unexpected wound — but that was a fluke, a result of surprise.
One that could easily be guarded against with enough caution.
So—
Use the Zanpakutō as a feint, and focus on Kidō for the main offense.
That was the conclusion Arima Shinya had reached — one of the "future paths" in which he might seize the advantage.
If he could keep repeating that cycle, over and over, though his reiryoku consumption would be immense, the stamina gap between them would widen.
Eventually, Kiganjo would begin to show fatigue — that was the future he had glimpsed.
But such a thing… wasn't realistic.
Because the fire-wreathed Kiganjo was now stepping forth from the billowing smoke.
His upper garment was burned away, coarse body hair and muscles rising and falling with each breath, like a flayed black bear.
Just looking at him gave off an inexplicable sense of oppression.
"Heh…"
Kiganjo's nostrils flared upward, his twisted face contorting into a grin devoid of any kindness.
"I've thought your ability was strange for a while now. Always managing to dodge and counterattack at just the right angle…"
"Now I'm sure — your power must be something like foresight, right?"
"How enviable. That kind of ability should've been mine."
Such a conclusion wasn't surprising.
After all, the man was a captain-level Shinigami. No matter how brutish, someone of that rank naturally possessed sharp battle intuition.
The problem was what he would do now that he understood Arima's ability — how would Kiganjo respond?
Under Arima's gaze, the beastly man raised his Zanpakutō high.
He bared his teeth, a predator fixing its stance before the kill.
"Within the Seireitei, captain-level Shinigami aren't allowed to release their Zanpakutō."
"I don't want unnecessary trouble, but you've really pissed me off. Just seeing your face makes my chest ache."
"So, brat — I've decided. Even if old man Yamamoto comes after me, I'll still kill you."
Anger, shame, resentment — none of it mattered anymore.
In Kiganjo's eyes, stripped of all morality, his opponent was already a corpse.
And who wastes their breath on the dead?
His arrogance stemmed from the absolute confidence of overwhelming power.
Whoosh…
A faint, low hum drifted through the air.
Standing opposite him, Arima Shinya could feel the air itself beginning to reverse.
The wind…
It was being drawn toward Kiganjo — toward the Zanpakutō in his hand.
What was this? Like a black hole, it was sucking everything in around it with terrifying force.
Could a Zanpakutō's release really have such might?
Comparing it to his own, Arima couldn't help the tension creeping across his face.
This was, after all, his first time facing a captain-level release directly — he had no idea what level of power to expect.
His heartbeat thundered; his body tightened.
Even while on edge — even while focusing 120% —
Kiganjo Kenpachi's mouth split open in a deep growl.
"Crush him — Enma Great Hammer!"
BOOM!!!
The gale that followed dwarfed any Kidō blast, crashing violently toward Arima Shinya.
He couldn't help but stagger back half a step, his face growing grim.
It was gone.
Not only Kiganjo Kenpachi himself —
—but the future he could once see had vanished completely.
This wasn't unexpected. Once Kiganjo had changed his "parameters" by releasing his Zanpakutō, Arima's prior predictions no longer applied.
So then…
What kind of power could Kiganjo unleash in this form?
Fixing his gaze, Arima looked ahead — at the distorted figure before him.
The man's already massive body had swelled even larger, now towering over three meters tall.
Black, twisted markings like tattoos etched across his body, highlighting his monstrous form.
He looked like a demon straight out of hell.
But what drew Arima Shinya's attention most—
—wasn't the man himself, but what he held.
The Zanpakutō… no, it was no longer a sword.
It was long, thick as a man's torso, covered in rows of thin needle-like spikes that even swallowed the moonlight itself.
This was… Kiganjo's Zanpakutō?
As that realization sank in, Arima saw him take a stance.
He shifted his body, left foot forward, posture drawn taut — as if preparing to throw the massive hammer.
What was he planning?
At this distance, he couldn't possibly reach him… unless—he meant to throw it?
Uncertain of his opponent's intent, Arima could only raise his focus to its peak.
It's coming.
"Brat, this boring farce ends now."
With that growl,
the massive hammer came crashing down.
And then— the sky itself seemed to split apart.
He couldn't even see it clearly. The next thing Arima knew, his whole body had gone numb.
What happened…?
His mind was hazy, but not gone.
He could feel he had fallen to the ground.
Was it spiritual pressure forcing him down? Or a shockwave like sword energy that had struck him? He couldn't tell… Kiganjo's Zanpakutō ability was still unknown.
His body felt unbearably heavy.
No… I'm still fighting him… I can't lose focus now!
He tried to rise.
His legs tensed, his waist strained, pushing his upper body upright.
Good. Now he just had to stand—he only needed to push against the ground a little…
His hand.
…
...…
...…
His left hand lay not far away, severed.
Soaked in blood, torn from the bone, a grotesque sight.
The realization came with a delay — and then the pain struck. Arima's mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Breathing — even breathing — had become a struggle.
Because it wasn't only his arm. The entire left half of Arima Shinya's body was drenched in blood.
His muscles shredded, organs exposed.
Half of his lung — gone.
"Cough… cough— ghhk!"
Arima collapsed to the ground. His fading gaze caught sight of Kiganjo lowering his stance—
—dragging the Enma Great Hammer as he approached step by step.
"It hurts, doesn't it? Well, that's only natural — this is my power, after all."
"Enma Great Hammer can stir the very air, letting me strike you no matter the distance."
"So even if you're more than ten meters away — it doesn't matter to me."
"Funny thing is, I was aiming for your head… yet you still managed to dodge a bit, huh."
"What remarkable talent you have."
Given time, he might even surpass me, Kiganjo thought.
And that was exactly why—
He grinned savagely, raising the Enma Great Hammer above his head.
"You're the one who deserves to die."
Arima Shinya struggled to look up — past Kiganjo — at the pale moon above.
Am I… dying?
Here? Now?
His thoughts swirled in chaos. The chain coiled around his right arm suddenly tightened, biting deep into his flesh.
Something was changing… but it was already too late.
Because the great hammer fell.
It smashed into Arima Shinya, piercing, crushing, shattering his body completely.
Flesh and blood splattered high, clinging to Kiganjo's face — and he smiled in satisfaction.
It was all over.
(End of Chapter)
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