Chapter 81: Undying Monster vs. Undying Monster
So heavy.
The impact rattled straight through Arturo's skull, shaking his brain into a dull haze.
For a moment, he saw the past. Two thousand years ago, he had been hit like this. In the exact same place.
On the surface, it was a simple truth. An attack aimed at the head, the universal weakness of living things. Nothing strange about that.
But in reality, it was not so simple.
Inside that fist was a will so sharp it felt like a blade. A will that screamed to win no matter what, crush no matter what, destroy no matter what.
This was not cold slaughter. It was a struggle drenched in blood and fire.
Compared to Hueco Mundo's brutal devouring, it carried a rawer kind of vitality.
Willpower, at its core, was the vitality of the soul.
Arturo remembered how, at the beginning, his instincts had craved that vitality. Craved it so fiercely it became hunger. He sought opponents obsessively, as if filling the emptiness inside him required nothing less than the heat of another soul resisting him.
But in Hueco Mundo, where strength was law, that simple desire was harder than climbing to heaven.
The weak did not dare challenge him. The strong feared him and kept their distance.
When Arturo reached the pinnacle of the Menos Grande, no one could stand against him anymore.
So he understood he had to leave.
Where else could he go?
An ancient Menos Grande had already shown the answer long ago.
Soul Society.
Countless enemies.
And after killing them all, there was still the exalted Soul King.
Yet in the end, he did not even glimpse the Soul King's guards. He was defeated by a hot tempered man who looked ordinary, felt ordinary, and carried nothing that should have been enough to crush a king of Hueco Mundo.
Muken was too dark. Too long.
Over time, that man's face blurred in Arturo's memory.
But one sudden punch dragged it back into focus.
The face.
The shame.
The ambush that followed. The defeat that carved itself into his pride like a scar.
"I will never forgive you."
Arturo's eyes turned frigid. The instant he climbed out of the crater, he shot toward the source of his enemy's reiatsu.
To his surprise, the enemy chose the same.
"Not running. Charging straight at me. This is not even a counter. Fine." Arturo's lips twisted. "Then I will crush you."
Reiatsu roared like wind and thunder.
Takeru was no less overwhelming. Silver blue spiritual power spilled off him in visible waves, and even the smallest motion stirred the flow like water being churned by a storm.
Two lightning fast figures collided head on.
"Only Flash!"
Takeru ignored the fatal slash that tore across his chest and punched Arturo in the face again.
Only Flash, using the body itself as a blade, was a different concept from Only Flash delivered through a fist after stalking in close with Translucent Dragon Scales.
The former was a strike so fast even the Captain Commander could not react in time.
Even with Arturo's sensory nerves and battle experience, there was no room to apply them.
Bang.
Arturo was sent flying again.
The face that had just regenerated split open once more. Blood burst from his nose, his teeth, his eyes. Even his Hierro could not surpass the hardness of Takeru's battle suit, so cracking was inevitable.
And with the Cruciatus Curse layered on top, Only Flash gained a slight boost, the kind that came from mastery and quantity of Kidō techniques.
The only reason Takeru did not punch Arturo's head clean off immediately was simple. The gap in reiatsu was still enormous.
Komamura had called it at least three times a Captain's. That was far too conservative.
Arturo was not the type to recklessly vent reiatsu. Outside of battle, he kept it at what was low for him. Even so, it made Komamura feel as if he faced a calamity.
Yet it still was not enough to make Takeru feel truly threatened.
"Compared to the Captain Commander, you are still far from it."
Kidō threads shot out. Takeru yanked Arturo's flying body back by force.
Then he punched.
Again.
And again.
He did not care who stood in front of him. There was no fear. No restraint. He threw himself into the fight completely, as if the only thing that mattered was crushing the enemy before him.
His arms moved like a two sword style iaijutsu, except the blades were fists. Hundreds of strikes in an instant. A thousand blows in a heartbeat.
The atmosphere shattered. The air turned into a blur. The roar never stopped.
Under that storm of impacts, Arturo's head finally blew off.
But the headless body moved.
A Cero condensed in Arturo's hand, then crushed inward. The shockwave exploded outward, forcing Takeru back.
"Bastard!"
Perhaps rage sharpened his regeneration. In a single second, Arturo's head restored completely.
His handsome face was warped with fury, eyes locked on Takeru like a predator that had just been insulted.
"I never thought I would meet an opponent with a taste for decapitation!"
"A taste for decapitation?" Takeru frowned in confusion. "Are you saying I keep aiming at your face?"
"What else?"
A flicker of fear flashed through Arturo's heart. If he were the kind of Arrancar who lost Super Regeneration after evolving, he would have died already.
"If you take off that outfit," Takeru said, pointing at the black restraining garment, "then I will gladly go for your heart."
Arturo froze for a beat, then understood.
"It is not my power, after all," he muttered, annoyance slipping into his tone. "In the heat of battle, I forgot about this thing."
Those restraints were absurdly tough. Ichigo could not cut them.
Takeru trusted his own reiatsu hardness, but he refused to waste time on pointless attempts.
Still, one thought tightened in his mind.
Can he recover even after losing his head? Then the heart might not be vital either.
The worst possibility I suspected has become reality.
If that is the case, then I can only go all out.
Takeru clenched his fists, and the pressure around him intensified again.
In contrast, Arturo's anger slowly cooled into something far more dangerous.
"Very good. Just like that."
"Do not be afraid. Do not call me immortal. Do not call me an unbeatable monster."
"Even if the facts are nearly the same, defeating trash like this cannot fill the void in my heart."
"Even if you lose, you must still rush at me like a moth to flame."
"This is what I love most about Soul Society."
Takeru's eyes went cold. "Moths only fly toward candlelight."
"So if you are the candlelight, then I am the wind."
"The wind that extinguishes a flickering flame."
"Is that so?"
Arturo's lips curved as he raised his Zanpakuto.
"Nirvana, Immortal King."
The rapier like blade erupted into fire, slowly turning crimson, as if it had just been pulled from a forge. From its back, two streams of green flame blasted outward, forming magnificent wings.
Boom.
The moment those wings appeared, the space itself trembled. Spirit particles became chaotic enough that if Takeru's shunpo were even slightly weaker, he would not have been able to hold himself in the air.
It felt like the sky was rejecting him.
As if no one deserved to stand at the same height as the winged king.
They should only remain below, gazing upward, like worshipping a ruler.
"Then extinguish me!" Arturo roared. "Extinguish the endless emptiness that keeps crawling out of my soul!"
The next second, Arturo vanished.
Sonido.
But far faster than before.
Takeru did not even have time to react. He moved purely on instinct, relying on the emotional shift he felt in the air.
"Too slow!"
Arturo caught Takeru's punch with his bare hand, then swung his blade down to sever the right arm that had smashed his face again and again.
But the sword was deflected.
"What?"
Just like Yamamoto Genryusai, Arturo found the defensive power of that armor incomprehensible.
After Resurreccion, there should have been nothing he could not cut.
Takeru seized the instant of distraction. His left hand snapped out, grabbing Arturo's sword wrist. He yanked his right fist back, then reshaped it into a palm. Fingers aligned like a blade.
A flash of cutting light streaked past.
Arturo's sword arm was severed cleanly.
Arturo's eyes widened for a heartbeat. Then he discarded every distraction, moving faster still. He caught his falling arm before it hit the ground, and in the same motion, kicked Takeru down.
Boom.
It was only a kick.
Yet when Takeru hit the ground, the sound was so immense it felt like a mountain collapsing and the earth tearing open.
"No matter how absurd a power is, it still needs reiatsu to sustain it," Arturo said coldly. "That is true for me, and it is true for you."
He adopted the same strategy he had used on Ichigo and Orihime.
A barrage of Cero rained down on Takeru's position.
Dust swallowed the field, but Arturo did not need eyes. His sensory nerves were far more reliable.
"A Cero legion."
Ichigo and Orihime had already proven that simply enduring it was not effective, and dodging endlessly was not much better.
Takeru saw it instantly. Arturo intended to wear him down with high intensity, high frequency attacks. It was a lucky discovery, but it was the correct answer.
"In that case…"
Takeru kicked off the ground and shot upward like a cannonball.
Cero were pure spirit particles. They behaved like air until their erosion reached its limit. They could not stop his ascent at all.
"You want close combat?" Takeru's voice carried upward. "Then I will give you close combat."
Arturo plunged after him without hesitation.
As a warrior, he would not retreat from a direct clash.
They collided again.
In fewer than ten exchanges, the outcome of the tactical struggle was decided.
Takeru was forced entirely on defense.
Even while dedicating all his focus to offense, Arturo handled it with ease, slicing through every angle, every rhythm, every shift.
Immature technique. Clumsy fists and feet. Only the footwork is passable. Far from Yamamoto Genryusai.
As Takeru's reiatsu dipped, Arturo formed a reishi blade in his left hand, paired it with his Zanpakuto in his right, and added kicks in between. Every limb became a weapon.
Attacks fell like rain on duckweed, endless and merciless.
Then a thrust aimed at Takeru's heart finally broke through the armor.
Arturo's pupils constricted.
The sensation of piercing that armor felt subtly wrong.
But the reason was simple.
Takeru had adapted to Arturo's rhythm. He sensed the heart strike coming, then deliberately stimulated fear, guiding the armor's defense to fail at that precise point.
Because his goal was just as simple.
"You have been cutting me for long enough," Takeru growled. "Now it is my turn."
Reiatsu surged, exploding upward like a hundredfold tide.
Takeru swung with absolute precision.
Only Flash.
But this time, it was forged from black and red lightning.
So it was also Black Flash.
Normally, such a state was difficult to trigger. But activating Bankai sharpened the feel, as if the world aligned for one single cut.
Takeru had used Bankai again and again recently. First in the Palace of Penitence, then on the way here, sending Kenpachi flying with one slash.
Now, against Arturo, he activated Bankai for the third time.
And a premonition rose in his bones.
If I want to use it, I can.
Most likely a burst state. One chance.
So he had saved it.
Hundredfold amplification through spiritual particle fission.
Absolute accuracy aimed at the heart.
Only Flash, Black Flash.
Two ultimate techniques fused into one.
A power that should not exist, especially not in the hands of someone at Takeru's level.
In that instant, even a true transcendental would not be able to treat their life as certain.
The slash tore through the restraints.
In Arturo's widening eyes, it cut through his body again.
There was no resistance.
There should not have been.
Even space itself distorted, shattered, and opened into a Garganta filled with endless turbulence of spirit particles.
A storm poured out, engulfing Arturo. Spatial collapse followed, the destruction more terrifying than any simple explosion.
Takeru squeezed out what remained of his strength and dropped to the ground immediately, avoiding being dragged into the collapsing space.
He panted hard. Sweat soaked him again, heavy as rain.
Fatigue and emptiness crashed into him like a tide. The spiritual light in his eyes dimmed.
When the sky stabilized and the storm faded, a blade suddenly pierced through his back.
"Ugh!"
Takeru grunted. He grabbed the sword jutting from his chest and slowly turned his head.
"Should I say long time no see?" Arturo's voice carried a thrill, the joy of surviving the impossible.
Arturo's appearance had changed. His attire now looked like something formed from spirit particles, reconstructed after his Resurreccion.
"You…"
"Surprised I am still alive?" Arturo smiled, then his gaze sharpened. "Was it the right arm you severed earlier?"
Blood seeped from Takeru's lips.
Arturo pulled the sword out and flicked it aside casually, watching his enemy drop to one knee. The smile faded into cold certainty.
"Yes. After I kicked you down, I discarded the arm you severed. A new one grew."
"My Super Regeneration allows me to recover as long as some body tissue remains."
"Otherwise, why do you think they sealed me instead of killing me?"
"You…"
"They could not tell if I would simply return to life again," Arturo continued. "So they sealed the main body and ended it that way."
"You lost because you wanted to kill me too much," Arturo said softly. "And I am the Immortal King."
"Still, I will admit this. You are the strongest enemy I have ever faced."
"There is no way I could have resisted that attack head on."
"So I will grant you respect."
"After I kill you, I will keep your sword at my side forever, my most precious trophy."
"Heh."
Takeru scoffed. Mockery sat plainly in his eyes.
"Sorry. I do not plan on giving my sword to anyone."
"And I do not plan on dying like this."
"I have lost most of my power," Arturo said, voice turning colder, "but you no longer have the strength to fight. I win this duel."
Takeru's next words made Arturo's expression shift.
"Let me tell you something."
"When you stabbed me just now, I felt it."
"What?"
"After using that kind of power and falling into weakness, it is natural to be more vigilant to threats around you," Takeru said, voice hoarse but steady. "So what is strange?"
"Then why…"
"You want to ask why I felt it but did not dodge."
"Because there was no need."
"Anyway, I was going to stab myself."
Takeru's lips curved. The smile was bloodstained, fierce, almost feral.
The Zanpakuto at his waist began to tremble violently.
Then both sword and sheath shattered into particles of light and poured into his body.
Reiatsu that should have been at its lowest point surged instead. It multiplied rapidly, splitting like proliferating cells.
His body began to transform inside a brilliant storm of spirit particles, pale and luminous like moonlight.
Someone once asked him how to summon a dragon without moonlight.
Now he had the answer.
If there was no moonlight, then he would create it himself.
Spend all spiritual power as death.
Take grievous wounds as demise.
Bathe in moonlight, and step into a new life.
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