Under the old man's sharply contracting pupils, the mirror-smooth, elegant silver-white blade suddenly flared—its brilliance rivaled the sun itself, nearly stabbing straight through his eyes.
The blinding light, far beyond what anyone could endure, stole his judgment in an instant.
A pure-white figure stepped slowly out of the radiance—well-proportioned, not a single hair on its body. Where its eyes should have been were two mouths.
It looked grotesque.
Even with his usually ironclad composure, the old man felt an urge to curse out loud.
The Tsunayashiro family's heirloom—passed down for a million years—had just materialized right in front of him.
He didn't need more than a toe to guess who was responsible.
Damn Kuchiki Kōga—has he finally snapped?
Or did he realize something in this chaos?
A flood of thoughts raced through his mind, but he didn't have time to dwell—because—
Once it gained form, Enrakyōten had already been fed the idea of betraying its "master."
As the Tsunayashiro family's Zanpakutō, it technically had no single owner, but in practice every Tsunayashiro head counted as its master.
So the moment it was free, its first act was to kill the old man standing before it.
A pure-white blade appeared out of nowhere in Enrakyōten's hand, melding seamlessly into its palm. The tip leveled straight at him.
No warnings. No speeches.
It raised the blade and cut.
Dazzling bursts of light flashed again and again like flashbangs, shredding the old man's vision.
No doubt—this was the copied ability of some Zanpakutō it had recorded.
He responded in panic at first.
But the Tsunayashiro head—someone even Gosuke bowed to—wasn't simple.
A vast, heavy Reiatsu erupted like a breached floodgate, instantly filling every corner of the study. The air thickened into something almost syrupy.
Under the pressure, furniture groaned and creaked, on the verge of collapsing.
Light flared. Invisible force slammed down.
The old man felt his body become several times heavier. Even his organs suffered crushing pressure.
His bones whined.
His expression darkened further.
The effortless ease of using Enrakyōten against enemies—now converted into suffocating pressure on him instead.
Only now did he truly understand what the Shinigami who died to Enrakyōten had felt.
Abilities that changed without warning—impossible to defend against.
He'd barely adjusted to one attack pattern when Enrakyōten's "eye-mouths" opened and closed, switching to a new ability.
It could even stack multiple abilities into a single, lethal combo.
Like now—
The old man suddenly found the floor under his feet turning into soft quicksand. A massive whirlpool formed, swallowing his body downward.
A freezing chill seeped through his fine robes, into flesh, into marrow—
His movements stiffened, like he was being buried alive beneath sand.
His face tightened in anger.
His heavy Reiatsu surged out in a single burst, wiping away every effect clinging to his body.
Dust and sand exploded outward. The study caved in.
In the roar, the old man raised his right hand and aimed forward.
"Hadō #88—Hiryū Gekizoku Shinten Raihō!"
In an instant, the explosion thundered like heavenly lightning.
A deep-blue pillar of light wrapped in violently twisting arcs shot straight ahead.
Where it passed, white sand vanished, walls collapsed, and a deep, charred trench carved into the ground as the blast slammed into Enrakyōten's position.
BOOM!
A shockwave that shook the earth erupted.
In a blink, the entire estate trembled. The violent aftermath spread outward, collapsing countless ancient, ornate buildings.
The Tsunayashiro family members stared, stunned, at the unbelievable scene.
Next moment, Enrakyōten—charred black—was launched from the smoke, plowing a wide, deep furrow through the broken ruins.
The old man flash-stepped in, lifted his hand, and began condensing scorching Kidō Reiatsu at his fingertip—
But before he could fire, Enrakyōten drove its blade into its own collapsing chest.
And its injuries healed at a visible rate.
The old man's face flickered with surprise—
Then his expression snapped into horror. The Kidō light at his fingertip flared brighter.
But Enrakyōten moved faster.
The instant it pulled the blade free, a crimson slash-pressure burst out. The air tore like cloth as terrifying power detonated.
He didn't even have time to cast a Bakudō shield.
He barely threw up a thin layer of Reiatsu in front of himself—
And the slash was already there.
Rip—
His robes were cleaved apart. A tearing wound opened across his aged body; blood sprayed and stained the cracked ground.
He staggered backward, disbelief all over his face.
He'd slipped—
…
Not far away, two figures—hidden under a layer of Kidō—watched the battle with interest.
Once the study collapsed, the clash between man and blade-spirit fully entered a boiling, white-hot phase.
The Tsunayashiro head was old but fierce, his Reiatsu immense—hardly weaker than any captain. Pure intimidation-wise, he nearly matched even Yamamoto.
Enrakyōten was even more ferocious: an endless stream of abilities, forcing the old man into defense despite being "disadvantaged."
Even after taking a full-power high-level Hadō head-on, it could still swing the recorded Zanpakutō abilities into a comeback.
Ridiculous.
Naraku watched the sword in Enrakyōten's hand—one whose crimson glow was fading—and felt like he'd seen that ability before.
Familiar.
Then it clicked—wasn't that Fourth Division's 20th Seat, Yamada Hanatarō's Zanpakutō?
Hisagomaru.
It could absorb damage and store it—then once the "gauge" filled, unleash a single, devastating strike.
So Enrakyōten had recorded even that.
The Tsunayashiro head pressed his left hand to the torn wound on his chest. Green light bloomed in the flesh as the injury healed visibly.
His mood had already sunk to rock bottom.
To maximize Enrakyōten's power, he'd used fragments of the Soul King's power he'd collected over the years.
Originally, Enrakyōten could only imitate other Zanpakutō's shikai by consuming the user's soul.
But after integrating part of the Soul King's power, its ability had been massively reinforced—it could even copy bankai.
And the "soul-shaving" drawback was suppressed.
Just summoning the Zanpakutō into physical form and turning it required more than copying Muramasa's shikai—Mukōjō Muramasa was the key.
And that very upgrade was why the Tsunayashiro head couldn't quickly put it down.
"You can't keep acting out, Enrakyōten."
The old man narrowed his eyes; the bleeding had stopped, the wound mostly closed.
Enrakyōten's "eye-mouths" opened and shut, forming a mocking grin as it stood amid the wreckage and raised its blade.
"Bakudō #63—Sajō Sabaku."
The old man chanted softly and pointed.
Thick, sturdy golden chains surged out and bound Enrakyōten from head to toe, even smothering its Reiatsu.
The ruins fell abruptly silent.
"—The burning rite, the dancing candlelight… converge, focus, climb to the heavens—"
A low voice continued a long, complex Kidō chant. Dormant Reiatsu surged again.
A crushing pressure dropped over the ruins. The ground sank everywhere the eye could see, as if hammered flat.
In front of his palm, jumping blue arcs crackled and hissed, condensing into a brilliant beam.
"Hadō #88—Hiryū Gekizoku Shinten Raihō."
BOOM—
Enrakyōten broke free of the chains.
But what greeted it was a fully chanted, maximum-output Hadō #88.
With no hesitation—pure instinct—
The blade in its hand flared with light and instantly became a massive shield, standing like a fortress wall.
Hiryū Gekizoku Shinten Raihō detonated, savage lightning roaring upward into annihilation.
Even the shockwaves alone forced the ground to keep sinking.
In just a few seconds, the entire estate became rubble. Dense dust crackled with pop sounds inside the flickering arcs.
When it finally settled—
Enrakyōten appeared again, charred black. Its shield looked half-melted, collapsed into the dust.
Compared to Tenken—who'd gotten punched apart—Enrakyōten's durability was in a class of its own.
Even Naraku couldn't help but marvel.
A great noble house really was something else. Even its heirloom Zanpakutō was tougher than most.
"Sora… are we really just going to watch?" Kōga asked suddenly.
Naraku side-eyed him. "What are you thinking? I'm the Third Seat of Central Underground Prison—and a disciple of Genryūsai-ryū. How could I raise a hand against one of the Five Great Noble Houses?"
Kōga froze—then understood at once, the corner of his mouth lifting.
"Got it. Then as a wanted fugitive, I won't hold back."
With the Central 46's order out and the Zanpakutō chaos still ongoing, there was no way to "clear" Kōga yet.
Unless they completely toppled Tsunayashiro and restored the Kuchiki faction's voice in the Gold Seal Council, there would only ever be the faintest chance.
So why not use this identity to do everything he'd wanted to do—but never dared?
Kōga's eyes hardened as he looked at the Tsunayashiro head, rage flickering.
If not for this man, he wouldn't have ended up like this.
"Enrakyōten, it's over," the old man said, lifting a finger as golden light gathered.
"I may not be able to make you submit—but I can put you back where you belong."
"Hadō #63—Rai—"
"Kongōbaku!"
A heart-stopping Reiatsu surged from behind.
A burning wave of heat rolled across the sky and slammed down on the Tsunayashiro head's position.
In the dust and roar, a furious howl split the air.
"Kuchiki Kōga!"
The old man burst out of the blast's aftermath, eyes blazing as he glared in the direction the Kidō came from.
Kōga snorted, wasting no words. He raised his Zanpakutō and poured Reiatsu in.
"Hyōga Seiran."
The temperature in the ruins dropped instantly.
Pale vapor coiled around his blade. The contrast with the rising pillars of flame was stark.
With a slash, uncountable ice and snow exploded from the tip, surging at Tsunayashiro Takehiko like a breached dam—
Everything it touched froze solid.
Kōga, a rare Kidō prodigy, had self-made spells whose power didn't lose to high-level Kidō—sometimes it was even stronger.
Takehiko's face darkened as he countered with another Hadō #88.
At this point, the situation had slipped beyond the plan.
Kōga had somehow learned Enrakyōten existed—and came for revenge.
The facts proved it: Muramasa really was the "source" of the upheaval.
One wrong move, and Tsunayashiro had taken an unimaginable blow.
Their Kidō clashed across the rubble—blue and white splitting the battlefield cleanly—shockwaves tearing outward as the spectacle escalated.
While they traded blows, Enrakyōten's "eye-mouths" opened slightly. It seemed startled by the sudden turn.
But it didn't stand around.
It decided to escape the Tsunayashiro estate first.
Killing Takehiko here was unlikely. No one knew better than it how strong the old monster was.
From afar, Naraku saw Enrakyōten choose to flee and his eyes lit up.
If he remembered right, Enrakyōten didn't have a "proper" master.
If it had none—and Naraku saw it—
Then it was his.
A treasure bound by fate.
"Kōga—be careful. If you can't win, run," Naraku called. "I'm going after Enrakyōten."
He vanished in a flash-step, Kidō light cloaking him.
Sensing Enrakyōten's retreat, Takehiko panicked and began hurling high-level Kidō like it cost nothing.
Flames scattered; arcs twisted and flashed—like a grand fireworks show.
Kōga saw the danger. He had Muramasa release a hypnotic technique to disrupt everyone's sense of distance and timing.
In the brief haze, Kōga didn't hesitate—he bolted, flash-stepping away at the fastest speed of his life and disappearing down the street's far end.
When Takehiko recovered, there was nothing left but scorched earth.
The loss was catastrophic—possibly the worst of any Tsunayashiro head in history.
And when he realized the million-year heirloom Enrakyōten was also gone, blood clogged his chest.
His throat turned sweet.
He spat a mouthful of old blood.
"Kuchiki brat… I won't let you live!"
~~~
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