Despicable!
Utterly despicable!
How could such a bizarre ability exist in this world?!
For the first time, the female Vasto Lorde felt her youth betrayed her.
Neither in Hueco Mundo nor the Soul Society had she ever encountered a creature like this!
Fight and overpower…
Unacceptable!
Before her thoughts fully formed, her body surged into motion, driven by an uncontrollable urge.
She had to escape!
No matter this Shinigami's power, his reiatsu had limits!
If she could break free, she'd outrun his Shikai's reach!
As the thought crystallized, her frame erupted with staggering reiatsu.
Her four hooves thundered toward the arena's edge, leaping skyward. Her sleek, powerful form traced a soaring arc through the air.
Beneath the bone mask veiling half her face, the girl's delicate features tightened. A sharp cry tore from her lips.
"Lanzador Verde!"
With a crystalline ring, her stout, twin-headed lance flared with verdant light, engulfing it entirely. It morphed into a streaking beam.
A thunderous blast followed as the lance shot forth, targeting the stands blocking her path.
One strike unleashed a Cero-like surge, dozens of meters tall, swallowing half the audience in a flash. The explosion roared through the arena, dust billowing like storm clouds, sweeping past in a howling gale.
It carved a passage dozens of meters long through the tiered wall ahead.
Yet her eyes remained fixed forward, twin heart-shaped pupils glowing with peach-pink hope.
Her hooves lunged toward that lone lifeline.
If she could just get out...
Her high-speed Sonído carried her across those fleeting meters in a blink.
The blurred light ahead loomed closer, her innocent eyes widening.
"I'm out!"
A whisper of relief escaped her.
But a familiar voice girlish, laced with sickly glee chimed in her ears.
[Role: Centaur Love Gladiator]
[Second Rule Violation]
[2] → [1]
Her expression froze.
Then, her reiatsu drained at a horrifying pace, surging away endlessly.
When she lifted her gaze again...
Makoto's figure reflected once more in her heart-shaped eyes.
Beside him, the arena stood pristine. The spectators obliterated by her Lanzador Verde moments ago cheered anew, vibrant and unscathed.
They laughed and roared with manic glee.
"Such a feisty centaur girl! Full of spirit!"
"Her vibe's strong and fierce!"
"Strong and fierce!"
"Hey, brat! Why haven't you started fighting?"
"Charge that big truck ass already!"
The cacophony swirled, a chill creeping into her heart.
Even facing hundreds of Gillians in the Forest of Menos, she'd never felt such crushing dread.
This foe was unlike any before.
And worst of all...
Those humiliating rules!!
Makoto spoke slowly, "I told you."
"The arena, the crowd, the cheers, they're just the Script. Destroy them all you like; it's pointless." He drew his Zanpakuto, lifting his gaze to her calmly. "Until our reiatsu tug-of-war ends, neither of us leaves."
"That's the rule."
"But…"
"How much reiatsu do you have left?"
Each word from his lips stacked weight on her soul.
Above his head, the number shifted from [4] to [5].
The moment his voice settled...
Makoto moved.
Boom!
Unfamiliar, bloated reiatsu erupted beneath his feet, far exceeding his norm, propelling him at terrifying speed.
"First Form: Severing Strike!"
His blade, wreathed in pure light, gouged a deep, refined scar into the earth. Faster than ever, several times his usual pace, it streaked toward her in a fluid arc.
Though weakened, the antelope knight's reflexes blazed. Her twin-headed lance swept toward him.
But this time, the outcome flipped.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
A cascade of crisp strikes rang out. The once-sturdy bone lance shattered into segments under the relentless blade-light, its reiatsu dissolving into ash.
Frail as paper!
Her pupils, shadowed by her helm, shrank to pinpricks.
As the blade neared her neck, she bellowed.
"Lanzador Verde: Burst!"
A shockwave erupted. The fragmented lance exploded into a swelling Cero glow, its blast hurling both Makoto and the Vasto Lordeapart.
Makoto tumbled across the ground, jamming his blade into the earth to slow himself. His free hand snapped into a palm aimed at her.
"Hadō 88: Hiryū Gekizoku Shinten Raihō!"
A thunder-wrapped beam roared forth, spanning dozens of meters. Its oppressive force cleaved a vacuum path, its core blazing white-hot. Pebbles and dust in its way vaporized instantly, unstoppable.
The Vasto Lorde, hooves still unsteady, faced it head-on. Her small mouth stretched wide.
"Doble Cero!"
In an instant, she swallowed the thunderous beam, space warping around her lips as she drew it in, chest swelling to its limit.
Then, she spat.
Boom!!!
The already peak-level Hadō rivaling the ninetieth tier surged anew, amplified, hurtling back at Makoto.
"Bakudō 81: Dankū."
Makoto intoned, an invisible wall rising before him.
The thunder crashed against it, unleashing a force that could melt the heavens. Black-red Cero flickers danced within, yet the translucent barrier held, spiderwebbing with cracks but unyielding.
[Kidō +10]
Before Makoto could exhale, her burst from the side's dust.
Cloaked in haze, her re-woven lance gleamed sharp, aimed straight for him.
Clang!
Lance met blade in a blinding spark.
This time, her overhead strike bolstered by momentum only sank his feet into the dirt, sliding him back a few meters.
No longer the leaf-sweeping dominance of before.
The more it faltered, the fiercer her urgency grew. Her lance whirled faster, harder, summoning every ounce of her dwindling strength.
She couldn't fathom defeat not under these twisted rules, nor the fate that awaited.
Especially against a Shinigami with such a 'terrifying heart.'
That visceral fear outstripped even mortal peril.
Unacceptable!
Her massive lance sang through the air, its twin tips blurring into a white torrent, slashing and stabbing from all angles. Her towering centaur frame claimed a supreme vantage, honed by eons of Hueco Mundo slaughter, pushed to its zenith.
Their rapid clash birthed countless reiatsu ripples and sparks. To onlookers, their exchange was a blur, shadows colliding, parting, converging.
A relentless clatter filled the air.
Each slice of Makoto's blade siphoned wisps of reiatsu from her, widening his edge.
Yet the Vasto Lorde fought back, her whirling lance grazing him, clawing back slivers of power.
The Script's core was a reiatsu war until one was drained dry!
But the guileless knight missed it.
With [5] to her [1], Makoto's skill barely matched hers.
A cunning Shinigami's trap for a naive antelope.
Thud!
His ruthless blade slammed into her flank, sending her crashing. Her antelope body was dented deeply.
The force flung her tumbling, but her wounds rewove as if regenerating.
Makoto watched her struggle upright, a victor's smirk playing on his lips. He teased:
"Hey, Vasto Lorde."
"What's your name?"
Her body sagged with exhaustion. Wounds healed endlessly, but stamina didn't.
Yet driven by a will to win or to avoid being fuck by this utterly terrifying Shinigami, she propped herself on her lance, half-kneeling.
At his voice, she rasped.
"Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck."
"Nell, huh?"
"I'm Makoto Fujimiya. Remember it."
He spoke softly, stepping toward her. His faintly glowing asauchi carved a deep scar in the earth without touching it, his gait light, his tone tinged with delight.
"Such a pity."
"Compared to that gallant knight at the start, the Nelliel now, brimming with strange fears…"
"So weak."
He stopped five meters away, arms spread, goading with a low laugh.
"Is this all you've got?"
But in that fleeting moment...
A blinding gleam flared in Nelliel's mask eyeholes. Her wilted aura sharpened, reiatsu surging as she poured everything into one final strike.
She and her lance fused into a radiant streak, shattering the distance.
Her last hope! Her final dawn!
"Hyper Acceleration!!!"
The light-lance pierced Makoto's chest, pinning the careless, chatty villain to the ground in a sneak attack.
Blood gurgled from his mouth, eyes dulling, face locked in shock.
The arena fell silent.
An outcome none foresaw.
Pin-drop stillness.
Until the gremlin's tender voice rang out.
[Winner: Centaur Love Gladiator!!!]
Cheers erupted like a tidal wave, deafening the arena.
Nelliel lifted her head, a survivor's smile breaking beneath her mask.
She gazed at the stands, pupils trembling.
From rule-induced despair to victory's spark...
Since becoming an Adjuchas, how many years had passed without facing such a bizarre, harrowing trap?
Thankfully, this Shinigami got cocky.
If so…
This place should vanish, right?
But as she mused, the gremlin's puzzled voice cut in:
[Centaur Love Gladiator, what are you waiting for?]
[Claim your prize!]
Nelliel froze, turning to Makoto supposedly skewered dead.
The lance was gone, replaced by cuffs and shackles binding him to the ground.
A dawning dread gripped her.
Her clear eyes quaked.
"W-Wait?"
"I won, and I still have to do that?!"
Her young voice cracked with panic.
"Isn't that obvious?"
A shout rose from the stands.
Then, a unified chant thundered.
"Fuck him!"
"Fuck him!"
"Fuck him!"
Nelliel stared at the crowd, body rigid, reiatsu at its nadir.
Only now did the guileless knight grasp the Script's true horror.
It seemed a duel of reiatsu and rule adherence.
In truth, it pitted the depths of human shamelessness!
A Hollow's limits versus a Shinigami's.
Which sank lower?
Once, an easy question.
But with Makoto?
All bets were off.
She turned slowly to the shackled Makoto, her trembling gaze pleading.
Even a Shinigami wouldn't endure being fucked by a female Vasto Lorde… right?
Then she met his blazing eyes, eager, ravenous!
Yet, recalling his Role, he tilted his head, feigning distress.
"Guh... kill me!"
***
Bonus Chapter:
100 Power Stones = 1 BC
300 Power Stones = 2 BC
500 Power Stones = 3 BC
700 Power Stones = 4 BC
1000 Power Stones = 5 BC
***
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