Chapter 172
"Forget it, whether you answer me now doesn't matter. I will destroy you."
With a grim smile, Soi-Fon drew the Zanpakutō strapped behind her and clashed with the Tiger Fang Arrancar's twin blades, steel striking with a sharp clang. All across the battlefield, others engaged, blades drawn, filling the space with the sound of clashing steel.
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni stood at the center, leaning on his staff. His white brows curved downward over stern eyes that retained majesty despite his age. His teeth were jagged and uneven from time, yet that did not diminish his presence. It only emphasized the countless years he had endured, the endless enemies he had faced. They had come and gone; he alone remained, aged but unyielding.
His voice rang like thunder.
"Draw your swords! Bet everything to crush the enemy here! Even if your bodies shatter into fragments, each bone must serve as a wall of iron! They must not take even one step onto the lands of Soul Society!"
Kyoraku Shunsui adjusted the straw hat on his head and sighed with a faint smile beneath the patterned haori draped over his shoulders.
"My shoulders ache already."
Ukitake Jūshirō gave a light laugh.
"That's true. Maybe when this is over, we should help the old man rub his shoulders."
Shunsui nodded lazily. "Just thinking about stretching makes me feel tired."
Ukitake's expression hardened slightly. "Shunsui, can't you be serious for once?"
The roar of Yamamoto's command shook even them, and Shunsui raised his hands as if to excuse himself.
"Does it really matter? With a voice that strong, I swear I could live another thousand years just riding along. Still... I suppose the enemy in front of us should be dealt with first. The old man's spirit is infectious, even for me."
His gaze grew sharper as he looked at Starrk and Lilynette.
"Do me a favor, would you? Let that child step aside. Having her here keeps us both from fighting at full strength, and I'm sure you feel the same way."
...
The king surged forward across the battlefield. His armor rattled with every movement as it cut through shadows, drinking deep of blood and bone with each step. His power pressed against every heart in his path. He stood alone and moved without hesitation, unbroken by the violence that surrounded him.
"Do you know why we fight?" His voice was low and cutting.
"Because you are a Shinigami, and I am a Hollow… the winner goes forward as king. The loser is reduced to nothing more than bones and nourishment for the other."
Crackling energy gathered tightly in Grimmjow's right hand, spiraling with dangerous intensity. The difference from an ordinary Cero was obvious; this possessed destructive potential on an entirely different scale. The dense reishi swirled toward his palm like a vortex, pulling the atmosphere into its core. The energy raged enough to level cities.
"This is the strongest Cero that only we Espada can unleash… the Gran Rey Cero!"
The light shone violently as it condensed, consuming sight and silence alike. The white brilliance devoured everything in its path.
"Kuroi Getsuga!"
Kurosaki Ichigo's voice cut through the roar as his blade swept forward. His attack expanded outward, dark compressed spiritual pressure exploding into his vision like ink spilling across the battlefield. The Gran Rey Cero clashed into the crescent of black energy, and the impact filled the air with a devastating explosion of light and force.
The energies tore against each other as the world quaked from their collision.
Booms resounded again and again, the shockwaves flattening everything within range as their combined powers ripped at the very fabric of the sky.
Peche and Dondochakka shielded their eyes with their hands against the gale that followed. Their vision barely caught the fractured edges of the battlefield through the storm of wind and light. A crack spread open across the dome of Las Noches itself, the sky fracturing under the force of the clash.
"That… that's the Gran Rey Cero, the attack only the Espada are capable of…"
"It's terrifying… are they really going to bring Las Noches down entirely?!"
Grimmjow dragged his blade across his palm, his voice filled with feral certainty.
"Kill… Pantera!"
The surge of energy consumed him as his body changed. A long, jagged tail formed behind him. His hands blackened, claws forming as his limbs extended into sharpened feline limbs of power. Blades grew from his forearms and calves alike. His hair lengthened into sharper strands, wild behind him, and his teeth sharpened into fangs that gleamed with threat. His Resurrection had taken form fully.
"Garra de la Pantera!"
Ten massive claws formed across his fingers, stretching outward as if they could rip through the very dome of Las Noches. His gaze locked on Ichigo with venom carried in every word.
"Kurosaki Ichigo, do you know what I hate most about you? Your eyes. No matter how much you're beaten down, those eyes always carry the look of someone certain they've already won. That arrogance ends here. With this strike… I'll take your life."
His memories surged forward. He recalled years past when he had already reached the state of Adjuchas, his form a skeletal panther prowling over the remnants of countless Hollows. He had fought endlessly, devouring others, his power climbing as his self remained intact where Gillians lost theirs. He had risen further, but fear haunted every step of his evolution-the fear of stagnation.
An Adjuchas that failed to keep consuming others would fall back into a Gillian, stripped of identity forever. Worse still-if an Adjuchas lost part of its body to another of its kind, its evolution would stop completely. No further growth would be possible, no matter if it survived.
"Such a small Adjuchas?" The massive forms had surrounded him back then. "Let us devour you and evolve further!"
Grimmjow had leapt forward and torn into one of them without hesitation. Skulls cracked beneath his jaws as he swallowed both flesh and bone. That Hollow was Di Roy, who later followed him as a subordinate.
"You're strong. What's your name?" the Hollow had asked.
"Grimmjow."
The hollow beasts had bowed before him then, voices filled with conviction.
"We refuse to remain as mere mid-level Hollows. We will not be satisfied with weakness. We need someone to pull us beyond, and that one is you… you are our king, Grimmjow."
Years had passed since then, but that moment still burned sharp in memory.
Later, they began to falter.
ShawLong sighed once as if resigned. "I've devoured over a thousand Hollows, and the power no longer grows sharper. Three thousand more after that, and still nothing has changed. I know I'll never become a Vasto Lorde, no matter how much I consume."
"Di Roy can't evolve either," another said. "It's obvious."
"Our journey has ended here," ShawLong admitted. "Whether we could've ever reached the level of Vasto Lorde, perhaps that was already decided when we were nothing but ordinary Hollows. From the beginning, we were destined to stop here. Only you will continue forward, Grimmjow. And when you do… you will devour us as well."
[T/N: BE SURE TO CHECK OUT MY NEW STORY! "ONE PUNCH MAN: A BIZZARE ADVENTURE"!!]
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