Sōkyoku Hill Battle (Thirteen)

Inner World

The Demon World Tree is collapsing.

Those thick branches were being torn apart from the inside by some force; the bark convulsed as if it were alive, and dark purple venom gushed from the cracks, flowing down the trunk and causing the wood to rot and the leaves to wither wherever it went.

The entire giant tree is decaying at a visible rate, and beneath its canopy, the city is being swallowed up by pale roots.

The roots that spread from the base of the tree trunks are as thick as ancient trees, and their surfaces are covered with barbs and suckers. They burrow into the cracks of buildings, crush stone pillars, tear down archways, and drag entire blocks underground.

The roar of collapsing buildings came from all directions, the ground cracked, and smoke and dust blotted out the sun. The once prosperous city was being turned into ruins inch by inch by this plague that spread from the roots.

Above the treetops, a white figure emerged from the ruins, its arm blade tearing through the air.

Mōcāng barely managed to dodge to the side, his arm blade grazing his side and slicing a smooth line across his Blue Coat, severing the golden embroidery in the middle.

Before he could even land, the tail blade stabbed from another direction—the long, thin, and sharp tail, wreathed in deep purple demonic flames, pierced his right shinbone, and blood splattered on the shattered tree trunk.

Mōcāng's knees sank down suddenly, and he half-knelt on the ground, blood seeping from under his hand that was covering his right leg and dripping down between his fingers.

Mōcāng's face showed a deep-seated impatience. He had firmly believed that his power could defeat all enemies, but the utterly unreasonable beast in front of him was wielding power of the same nature as his own, making it impossible for him to break through its defenses.

The Hollow Beast pounced on all fours like a real wild animal, its arms crossed in front of it, and demonic flames exploded into dark purple sparks on the blades.

Mōcāng raised Jiku'a to parry, his arm blade colliding with the sword, the impact propelling him backward, his feet carving two deep furrows in the ground.

Just as the Hollow Beast was about to pounce again, a dark blue sword light slashed from the side— the Blade of Power, its broad blade imbued with blue-white Reiatsu, struck the Hollow Beast's arm blade, sending sparks flying.

The Hollow Beast was thrown off course by the blow, its limbs leaving four deep claw marks on the treetops.

"Mōcāng!" Hu landed beside Mōcāng, the Blade of Power held horizontally in front of him, the engravings on its spine pulsating slightly in the eerie blue light. "Can you still stand up?"

"It's not dead yet." Mōcāng propped himself up with Jiku'a, blood still seeping from the wound on his right leg. "But this thing—how do we deal with it? It doesn't get tired, it doesn't feel pain, and it doesn't even think?"

"I don't know." Hu stared at the Hollow Beast's scarlet eyes, which were exactly the same as his own. "But there's always a way. Let's hold on!"

The two charged forward simultaneously, their Blade of Power and Jiku'a's sword light intertwining to form a net, blocking the Hollow Beast's retreat from two directions.

However, the Hollow Beast's attacks were completely unpredictable—its arm blades swung out without any warning, its tail blades stabbed from completely impossible angles, and the tips of its energy wings acted like two extra blades in close combat, each flap bringing with it a sharp wind blade capable of tearing through the skin.

A few breaths later, both of them were knocked back.

"Its movements are completely erratic! What's going on?" Mōcāng gritted his teeth. "Is it simply reacting to the killing intent we're emitting?"

"Is this thing really an ethereal thing?" Amber slammed the Blade of Power into the ground, panting heavily. "Isn't an ethereal thing a product of the expansion and distortion of negative emotions within a soul? Can you feel your negative emotions being extracted?"

Mōcāng shook his head.

"It is not a product born from negative emotions!"

The two looked up at the center of the tree canopy. The once towering tree, which had blocked out the sky, was now scarred and covered with poisonous spots. Its branches and leaves had withered, and the venom spreading from its roots was slowly eroding the core of the canopy.

In the very center of the tree trunk, Jiku'a was firmly bound by countless pale branches. These branches grew out of the trunk, wrapped around his limbs, tightened around his torso, and fixed his arms to his sides, rendering him unable to move.

His Blue Coat was deformed by the branches, the ends of his white hair fell to his shoulders, and his face, unusually, lacked its usual ease.

"Jiku'a!" Hu shouted.

Jiku'a raised his head, his voice muffled by the branches, deeper than usual, but his enunciation remained clear:

"This Hollow was created differently from the others! Aizen specially made it for you!"

You have already accepted the negative emotions represented by the Mōcāng. If you continue to prepare the Hollow Poison according to the normal method, you will only be giving him power for nothing. Therefore, he must have used some means to bypass the human system that is divided into rationality and emotion.

This void was born entirely from pure bestial instincts. Even if you are extensions of the same soul, it is impossible to tame a beast that cannot understand human language or human nature.

Perhaps because Mōcāng displayed the strongest killing intent towards the Hollow Beasts, the Hollow Beasts ' attacks on Mōcāng became more concentrated. While dealing with the Hollow Beasts ' attacks, Mōcāng asked, "Why? Why is this thing bypassing me?"

"I can't think of anything else besides the Hōgyoku that could achieve such an incredible combination," Jiku'a said in a low voice. "He must have used the unfinished piece of Hōgyoku he created himself! That's how he created this Hollow Beast, which is almost an embodiment of his Id. It has no language, no thought, only the most basic will to survive!"

Hu gripped the hilt of the Blade of Power: "Then eliminate the Hollow Beasts, just like you separated the Mōcāng before— Jiku'a, do it again."

"No." Jiku'a's voice suddenly turned cold. "If the Hollow Beast that governs your Id is removed, your personality will be completely damaged. I will never do such a thing."

"But if I don't eradicate it—all that awaits me is utter degeneration into the Void." Amber's voice was low. "In a world corrupted by Hollow Poison, there is no other ending."

"That's not something you need to worry about." Jiku'a's hands were tightly bound by branches, but his tone remained unwavering. "I will find another way, but not this one, absolutely not!"

"Jiku'a-- "

"I said, no!"

This was the first Jiku'a display such an expression.

Just as Amber was filled with anxiety, the Blade of Power in his hand suddenly emitted a very low hum, and the engravings on the spine of the sword lit up. That light was different from any previous burst of Reiatsu —it was not the Heat, not sharp, and did not carry any aggression; it was just a very faint, moonlight-like blue halo that slowly spread from the sword.

"What...?"

In the blink of an eye, Hu arrived at a motorhome.

Inside the carriage

Hu opened his eyes. He was sitting on a worn-out leather chair. The edges of the chair were so worn that the foam inside was exposed, but the cushion still retained a strange sense of comfort.

The carriage was small, with dark metal panels on all four sides, covered with various stickers and scratches. Old Venetian blinds hung on the windows, and sunlight filtered through the gaps in the blinds, cutting thin strips of light into the air.

Quiet, utterly quiet, a serene quiet steeped in bygone times.

He looked around, and everything in the carriage seemed familiar to him.

"So, you're the unlucky one who got caught in the crossfire?"

A voice sounded from behind him.

Hu suddenly turned around.

A thin, dark-haired figure appeared on the previously empty seat, leaning against the backrest, one leg crossed over the other, one hand holding a black cane, and the other holding a hardcover book with a large "V" on the cover.

His features were delicate and handsome, with a faint, mocking yet self-deprecating smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"V--You are V!" Hu's voice suddenly rose.

"Ah, it seems you know me." V placed the book on his lap, resting his hands on the spine, his tone as casual as if discussing the weather. "Is it through those memories that have invaded your body?"

Before Amber could answer, V's gaze had already fallen on the Blade of Power in his hand. He tilted his head slightly, and for the first time, a very faint ripple appeared in his calm eyes. "The Blade of Power? I didn't expect you to have reforged Father's broken horn into this."

With a flick of his finger, the Blade of Power in Amber's hand flew out as if pulled by an invisible thread, landing steadily in V's palm.

He gripped the hilt of the sword, held it horizontally in front of him, and scanned the ancient engravings on the spine of the blade inch by inch.

"With the father's power remaining inside, no wonder it can connect to this dimension in reverse and project you here."

V flicked his wrist, tossing the Blade of Power back to Amber: "However, it's fundamentally different from the real Blade of Power. It's just something similar to Father's sword."

Hu caught the sword, and the warmth of the hilt spreading through him again brought a slight relief to his anxiously gripped heart.

"How did you get here? And where exactly is this place? Why does this place feel so familiar to me, yet I can't remember it?"

"You can consider this place as a transit point. Your father's strength has brought you to my side, treating you like his child, seeking a glimmer of hope."

Before Amber could fully process the meaning of those words, V had already closed the book, raised his eyes, and looked directly at Amber with his calm gaze. "I already knew about the problems you're facing when you connected to this side."

He opened the book in his hands, his eyes lightly sweeping over the lines of text, and began to read aloud.

"He who desires but does not act, breeds pestilence."

The V was pronounced very slowly, and the air in the carriage vibrated slightly with his reading.

Self-annihilation is the inevitable path to eternity; the 'Id,' the Spectre, must be shed and annihilated.

Reborn from the ashes, the Four Zoas, on the verge of collapse, are reunited as one.

He closed the book.

"What are all these things?" A hint of barely suppressed irritation crept into Hu's voice—he had no time for riddles. In the real world, his own body was colliding head-on with the Captain-Commander, Shi Ya was tied to a tree trunk, and Mōcāng was fighting Hollow Beast Jiku'a dragging his injured leg. He didn't have time to sit in this old, dilapidated carriage and listen to people recite poetry.

V raised his head, his brows furrowing slightly. He hadn't expected that even though he had inherited his memories, Hu was completely uninterested in his favorite poetry collections and couldn't understand the true meaning of the poems.

He paused, his brows relaxed, and Shikai: "Your current state is one of division but not complete division— the Superego, Ego, Id are trapped in the same body yet remain independent, which is a very contradictory state."

You must first unite yourself, Mōcāng, and the Hollow Beast into one, then separate them again—disassemble the Hollow Beast, digest each part individually, and finally merge them together once more.

"Combine? Then separate? How do you do that?"

V extended a finger and tapped the spine of the Blade of Power in Amber's hand.

"This sword is a reconstruction based on the Phantom Blade, isn't it? The Phantom Blade itself has the ability to Integration. In the inner dimension, you use the Blade of Power to pierce through all three of you simultaneously, then return to the real dimension to use the Jiku'a to separate yourself—after dismantling, each part digests the scattered Hollows, and finally, you use the Blade of Power to Integration all the fragments."

He looked up. "Did you understand?"

Hu thought for a moment and nodded.

"You'd better really understand." V looked at his "maybe understand" expression and his lips curled down slightly. "Listen carefully, no matter how you dismantle yourself later, never let go of the Integration ability of the Blade of Power. That's the key to Integration yourself later!"

He raised his right hand, and magic condensed at his fingertips into an extremely fine black quill pen. The quill glided through the air, and ink-like lines flowed along unseen paths, outlining the cover, spine, and pages. A hardcover poetry collection solidified in the light, with gold lettering printed on the cover.

V handed the poetry collection to Hu. Hu reached out and took it. The moment the spine of the book fell into his palm, he felt a very faint warmth—the warmth of lingering magic, and also the weight of another world.

"When you really don't know what to do, read this collection of poems. It will help you." V looked at the gradually fading amber. "It's almost time, go back now."

"V." Amber held the poetry collection in her hand. "Why did you help me like this?"

V stood in the middle of the carriage. "I'm just making up for my mistake."

Amber's body began to dissipate, the walls of the carriage faded from view, the shadow of the blinds disappeared from the ground, the worn seat, the old stickers on the metal panels, the tranquility soaked in the old times—all turned into specks of light. Before he fell back into his Inner World, V's voice rang out for the last time, very softly, as if speaking to himself.

Go. Your story isn't over yet, don't let it end.

The carriage fell into complete silence once more. The phantom of V vanished, and a series of extremely light and steady footsteps came from behind the partition.

Vergil emerged from behind the partition, wearing brand-new blue beach shorts and flip-flops, looking somewhat out of place in the old carriage.

He walked to where V had just been standing, bent down to pick up the open poetry collection, and casually closed it.

He sighed softly, put the book back on the chair, and turned to walk towards the side door of the carriage.

The door opened in front of him, revealing a beautiful golden beach with gentle waves lapping the shore and the distant sound of children's laughter.

Wearing red beach shorts and sunglasses, Dante poked his head into the carriage, his voice so loud it shook the blinds. "Hey, Vergil, why are you taking so long to change? Everyone's waiting outside. Don't you want to play with your little grandson?"

"Coming right away," Vergil Kaidō, tugging at his loose-fitting beach shorts, which he would never normally wear.

As he stepped out of the carriage, the scene outside unfolded before him—a private beach bathed in golden sunlight. Nero and Kyrie sat on a beach blanket, playing with their child, the tiny creature nestled on its mother's lap, stretching out its short arms to grasp its father's pinky.

Lady and Trish were bickering by a beach chair not far away. Lady held up an empty sunscreen bottle and accused Trish of using up hers yesterday and not admitting it. Trish just shrugged and took a new bottle out of her bag and tossed it to her.

Nick was squatting amidst a pile of homemade baby supplies, tightening a screwdriver on a floating cradle that flickered with unstable light spots, with a blade of grass he'd picked from who-knows-where dangling from his mouth.

Dante stood beside the car, observing the scene. "Sweet home. This is what home feels like."

He reached out and patted Vergil on the shoulder, the force so strong that the latter leaned forward slightly and pulled his sunglasses down a bit. "What were you doing in there just now? You even set up a silencing spell."

Vergil paused for a moment, then looked away from his grandson's face and onto the dilapidated carriage. "It's nothing, just an attempt to fix one of my mistakes."

"Really? Is it fixed?"

"It's hard to say," Vergil said, then turned and walked towards the beach.

Dante watched his retreating figure and chased after him. "If you can't handle it, I'll take over."

"No need," Vergil interrupted him, his tone returning to its usual coldness. "And, don't let anything Nick made get near my grandson."

Dante glanced back at Nick's floating cradle, which was emitting an increasingly piercing buzzing sound, and then at the tiny head in Nero's arms:

"Alright, alright, but she's the best weapons technician right now, we have to trust her skills..."

Vergil ignored him, and simply took his grandson from Nero's arms very gently.

Returning to the Inner World

Within the light curtain suspended in the sky, the Captain-Commander of the Real World was slashing at the mask of the Hollowfication Amber. The Hollow Beast let out a piercing roar, its two bladed arms suddenly crossing in front of it, attempting to retaliate with demonic flames.

"Mōcāng!" Amber caught the Blade of Power in mid-air, the engravings on its spine bursting with a blinding blue-white light. "Suppress it first! If we drag this out any longer, no one will leave alive!"

Mōcāng didn't answer, but gripped Jiku'a tightly, and the two rushed forward at the same time.

The Blade of Power and the Blade of Jiku'a slashed down from two directions simultaneously, knocking the Hollow Beast's arms away. Taking advantage of the Void Hollow Beast's momentary lapse in speed, Mōcāng swept a kick at its ankle, causing the Hollow Beast to lose its balance and lean forward.

Hu seized the opportunity, his left arm sweeping across from the side to lock the Hollow Beast's neck, pinning it to the ground. At the same time, Mōcāng pressed down on its right arm, his knee pressing against its lower back.

The Hollow Beast let out a low roar and struggled with all its might. Its tail blade stabbed at Hu's waist from the side, but Mōcāng grabbed its tail and pressed it down. All four of its limbs were suppressed, and the Hollow Beast's roar grew louder and louder.

Hu tossed the Blade of Power high into the air, and the Blade of Power fell rapidly downwards, aimed at the chests of Hu, Mōcāng, and the Hollow Beast.

A single sword pierced through.

The sword tip pierced the white chest of the Hollow Beast, penetrated the Blue Coat of the Mōcāng, and plunged into the armored chest of Amber.

The three people were impaled together by the sword. Blue and white light exploded from the sword, as dazzling as the blazing sun.

In the light screen, Captain-Commander Yamamoto of the real world was slashing down with his sword. The Ryūjin Jakka, landed precisely in the center of the mask, and a dark blue light—the light belonging to Amber—burst forth from the crack.

The mask split open from the very center, and pieces peeled off one by one, revealing the eyes beneath that had finally turned back to silver.

The real world and the Inner World synchronize in the same instant; the moment the mask shatters, the Blade of Power completes its Integration.

Three streams of Reiatsu surged across the sword, and the blue and white light engulfed everything.

In the real world, on the ruins of Sōkyoku Hill

Amber knelt on the broken stone slab, panting heavily. Fragments of the Void Mask lay scattered at her feet, gleaming white in the moonlight.

His consciousness returned; every muscle in his body screamed, every bone throbbed with dull pain, but his silver eyes once again shone with his own light.

Dark clouds began to gather from the distant horizon, obscuring most of the moon, and an extremely cold night wind blew across the execution platform.

"Amber!"

Fon Shaoling rushed forward, her legs tripping over the pile of rubble. She almost fell on top of him, grabbing his shoulders with both hands. Her fair face was covered in a mixture of tears and dirt, and the shadow of the nightmare still lingered in her golden eyes.

"Shaoling." Hu grasped her wrist; his fingers were cold, but his grip was steady. "We may need to part ways for a while."

Fon Shaoling was stunned. Before she could ask anything, Hu had already forced a smile.

His current condition is terrible. The power brought about by the forced Integration is like countless tiny bombs exploding simultaneously within his body. With every breath, he can feel the Reiatsu impacting his internal organs, and his arm, which is being suppressed, is still twitching slightly.

There's only enough time to say this one sentence.

"Don't worry, I will definitely come back."

He drew the Jiku'a from his arm blade; the blade sliced through the air with an extremely faint hum. In the instant before anyone could react, he reversed his grip on the blade and pointed the tip at his own abdomen.

A knife pierced through.

Blue and white light gushed out from the wound, and a torrent of Reishi particles swept across the entire execution platform. A pure blue Reishi pillar shot into the sky, and surrounded by the Reishi, Hu's figure became fainter and more blurred.

Finally, as the light completely faded, the rain poured down. Only Jiku'a remained where he had been kneeling, the blade embedded in the stone slab, the hilt still trembling slightly.

Kyōraku pressed his torso, which had been slashed by the tail blade, and closed his eyes to sense the situation for a moment.

Both Reiatsu's and Amber's Reiatsu had vanished completely. He tugged at his rain-soaked straw hat and looked at the Jiku'a stuck in the center of the execution platform—the sword was now stuck where the Sōkyoku had once stood, and the eerie blue light on its blade was gradually dimming.

"Could it be... that the elimination process failed?" His voice was very low.

Fon Shaoling knelt in the rain, staring intently at the last remaining Jiku'a. Kyōraku's words pierced her mind like a cold needle.

She knelt before the Jiku'a, stuck in the stone slab, tilting her head back. Rain mingled with tears, dripping from her chin, striking the broken stone and the hilt of Jiku'a's sword. Her voice tore through the rain.

"Amber--!"

The rain poured down, dark clouds obscured the moon, and the world was plunged into darkness. No one answered her.

Everyone present fell silent, standing in the pouring rain, staring at the last remaining Jiku'a.

It now stands in the very center of the execution platform, its blade gleaming with a faint, eerie blue light under the rain, flickering like a silent, unwavering commitment.

After a long while, Captain-Commander Yamamoto slowly sheathed Ryūjin Jakka, rainwater sliding down his cane and running down the back of his bronze hand.

He glanced at the only remaining Jiku'a, then turned around. His steps remained steady, but the hand gripping his cane tightened slightly in the rain.

Even Kenpachi Zaraki was unusually quiet. He looked towards the execution platform, at the Toki Crow standing upright in the Jiku'a, his single eye reflecting the faint blue light in the rain.

"... Kid, I don't believe you died so easily."