Yamamoto couldn't help but think of his young disciple—the one who, despite being a Shinigami, possessed overwhelming strength.
He had miraculously broken free from the limitations of the Shinigami and reached a realm untouched by any of their kind. Perhaps he truly had a way to resolve this crisis.
No—there had to be a way. Yamamoto had no choice but to believe it.
As long as even a sliver of hope remained!
Right now, he had to stop these damned nuisances!
He glanced at the long blade in his hand, a fierce glint flashing in his eyes.
"Ennetsu Jigoku!"
He swung his sword upward into the sky.
Flames erupted, forming a towering pillar of fire that pierced the heavens and earth, instantly engulfing over a dozen Hell monsters and Togabito.
"Excellent, Captain-Commander-sama. That's the spirit."
"But with that aged body of yours, how long can you hold out without Bankai?"
"So... don't you dare die on me!"
With a bright, carefree smile, Chika Shihōin assumed a ready stance.
Yamamoto blinked, momentarily dazed by the sight—then gave a confident smile.
"It's you who should be careful. I'll personally drag all of you bastards back to Hell!"
Amid the chaos, the fighters locked eyes—then charged at each other all at once.
A violent wave of Reiatsu exploded outward!
As they clashed, the surrounding space began to distort and warp, struggling to contain the sheer force of their power.
Yamamoto's gaze hardened. Gripping his blade tightly, he radiated a force that was simply overwhelming.
Chika Shihōin still wore that same sunny smile, but a sharp gleam flickered in his eyes.
With a sudden flash, he became a blur of light, streaking toward Yamamoto at an astonishing speed.
The distance between them vanished in an instant, and just before they collided—
Yamamoto swung his sword in a blazing arc, unleashing a scorching wave of flame straight at Chika.
Chika dodged with ease, tilting his body to avoid the blast. At the same time, his blade shimmered faintly as he countered with a fierce slash toward Yamamoto.
Yamamoto grunted and raised his sword to parry.
Their weapons clashed with a harsh, metallic clang.
Then the two plunged into a brutal close-quarters fight.
Each clash of blade, fist, and foot erupted into sparks and waves of crushing Reiatsu.
At the same time, the other First Generation captains launched coordinated attacks, attempting to break through Yamamoto's defenses from all sides.
But Yamamoto displayed unmatched combat prowess and razor-sharp reflexes. Wielding the fearsome Ryūjin Jakka—untouchable by any—he deflected every strike with unrelenting ferocity.
As the battle raged, Yamamoto steadily gained the upper hand.
His sword strikes grew fiercer, each one carrying immense power that left his enemies reeling.
But Chika Shihōin and the others refused to back down.
Their bodies were battered and broken, only to regenerate and surge forward again with reckless abandon.
For now, the battlefield was locked in a dead heat—neither side yielding, neither able to claim victory...
...
Kensei Muguruma, Shinji Hirako, and several other captains stood not far away, their gazes fixed solemnly ahead.
In the dim light, their white uniforms stood out starkly against the chaos.
A tense, volatile atmosphere hung over the battlefield. The opposing sides locked eyes, and it felt like sparks could fly at any moment.
In that charged silence, Shunsui Kyōraku and Jūshirō Ukitake exchanged a glance—an unspoken understanding passing between them.
Ukitake gave a subtle nod, and without hesitation, Kyōraku dashed straight toward the chaotic melee consuming the Gotei 13.
The rest of the captains, knowing their limits, wisely stayed behind.
What a joke!
Those First Generation captains, empowered by Hell's force, had skyrocketed in strength.
Getting into that fight? The minimum requirement was First-Class Spiritual Power!
Charging in recklessly as standard captains would be nothing short of suicide.
Kensei Muguruma stood his ground, brows furrowed as he watched hordes of twisted monsters advancing.
Each one had a bizarre form—no Hollow masks, but features eerily similar to Hollows, sending a chill down the spine.
They radiated an unnatural aura that filled the air with dread.
"What the hell are these things? They look like Hollows, but the placement of their Hollow Holes is completely off," Kensei muttered.
"They're not to be underestimated," Shinji Hirako said gravely. "We might not feel any Reiatsu from them, but judging by those Hell Jailers who crashed the Captain's Meeting, these things likely also have Hollow Holes that have... warped outside their bodies."
As he spoke, he slowly drew his Zanpakutō, its blade gleaming with a sharp, dazzling light.
"Heh, they don't seem that tough. Shouldn't take too long. Let's clear them out quick and go back up the Captain-Commander!"
Confidently, Kensei swung his Zanpakutō and launched himself toward the group of Hollow-like creatures with the force of a gusting wind.
"Blow it Away—Tachikaze!!"
With a shout, he unleashed his Shikai instantly.
Seeing this, Shinji followed suit without another word, slashing forward to join the fight.
...
But just a few minutes later, Kensei's battered body came hurtling through the air like a cannonball, crashing into a pile of rubble with a thunderous boom, smashing through several walls in the process.
Shinji looked on, feeling a complicated mix of frustration and concern.
These Hollow-like monsters might not be Vasto Lorde, but their strength was terrifying.
One or two could be dealt with—Kensei had barely managed to hold his own after releasing his Shikai.
But when three or five attacked at once, he was completely overwhelmed.
Shinji realized the truth—they were definitely at captain-level strength.
In life, they must have been elite Adjuchas at the very least.
If not for the fact that his Zanpakutō, Sakanade, operated on perception-inversion rules, allowing him to mess with the enemy's senses, he would've ended up just like Kensei.
As he pondered, a sudden red glow lit up his face.
Looking up, Shinji spotted the enemy.
Those bastards were opening their mouths wide—gathering massive amounts of Reiatsu.
"Damn it... Cero? Have they figured me out from all the times I've used my ability?" Shinji cursed inwardly.
His Sakanade ability relied on the unique scent the blade emitted. If the enemy couldn't smell it, the power wouldn't take effect.
Five beams of blinding energy shot toward him, howling through the air. The sheer force made the atmosphere tremble.
Then, in a flash, a figure appeared before Shinji.
Jūshirō Ukitake stepped in, dual blades in hand. His left sword locked onto the incoming blasts.
A dark red light began to flow into his Zanpakutō, steadily being absorbed.
In one smooth motion, Ukitake raised his right hand—and unleashed the stored energy back at the attackers in a single devastating burst.
With a deafening explosion, he turned to Shinji with a calm smile.
"Captain Hirako, are you alright?"
"Of course I am, tch... Still as energetic as ever, huh? Thanks."
Shinji couldn't help but grin. He thought back to the chronically ill Captain of the 13th Division he used to know and compared that image to the lively Ukitake before him.
Was this some kind of revenge for being stuck in bed too long?
Wasn't he tired?
Letting out a helpless sigh, Shinji raised his blade and charged at the approaching monsters...