Fight Against Kenpachi Zaraki (Thirteen)

Kenpachi Zaraki's body was constantly being injured and healed. His Reiatsu gradually decreased in this cycle, like a pool that was constantly being drained and filled, but the rate of drainage was much faster than the rate of filling.

His breathing became more rapid, his heartbeat more violent, and his movements more sluggish. His body was exhausted, his strength was waning, and his will was being worn down.

But Kenpachi Zaraki did not give up, did not back down, and did not fall. He gritted his teeth, gripped his Zanpakuto tightly, and continued to fight the six Imperial Guards.

Each of his strikes was more ferocious than the last, each blow more powerful than the last, and each parry more resolute than the last. He was using his will to fight against the siege of six Imperial Guards, his passion to fight against Liu Hao's Bankai Domain, and his life to fight against this seemingly impossible battle.

However, in a moment of carelessness, Kenpachi Zaraki's weakness was exposed.

It was an extremely minor mistake—his right foot stepped on a pebble as he retreated, causing him to slightly lose his balance; his center of gravity shifted for a moment, and the angle of his sword swing deviated; his attention was momentarily distracted, just a tiny bit. But in the eyes of the Imperial Guards, this slight mistake was a fatal flaw.

One of the Imperial Guards seized the fleeting opportunity. His Tang Dao drew a dark arc in the air, a precise and deadly arc, like the scythe of Soul Reaper, like the judgment of fate. The blade struck Kenpachi Zaraki's arm as Zanpakuto with such force, speed, and angle that Kenpachi Zaraki had no time to react.

"Puff--"

A dull thud, like a sharp blade slicing through flesh and bone, like a sickle cutting through straw. Kenpachi Zaraki's arm, which Zanpakuto, was severed by the Imperial Guard in one strike. The cut was as clean as if it had been made by a laser; bones, muscles, blood vessels, nerves—everything was cleanly and neatly severed.

The Zanpakuto, carrying the severed arm, tumbled through the air several times, tracing an arc, before striking the ground not far from Kenpachi Zaraki with a clang. The blade trembled slightly in the air, emitting a low hum, the severed arm still clinging to the edge, its fingers slightly curled, a gruesome sight.

Blood gushed from the severed wound on Kenpachi Zaraki's shoulder, like a flood bursting its banks, like an erupting volcano, drawing red arcs in the air before splashing onto the ground, creating tiny blood flowers. Those blood flowers were particularly glaring in the dim light, like blooming red spider lilies, like dripping roses, like the mark of death.

Standing beside Liu Hao, enveloped in seven-colored light, Yachiru Kusajishi's heart trembled at the sight, as if gripped tightly by an invisible hand. Her eyes widened suddenly, her pupils contracted sharply, and her large eyes were filled with fear and worry.

Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to shout something, but no sound came out. Her body trembled uncontrollably, starting from her fingers, spreading to her arms, to her shoulders, and to her entire body. Her face turned pale, as if all the color had been drained from it, and her breathing became rapid, like that of a drowning person struggling.

Just then, Liu Hao slightly tightened his hand on Yachiru Kusajishi's head. The force was not great, but it carried an irresistible firmness, firmly fixing Yachiru's slightly trembling body in place, preventing her from moving around, from rushing out, or from doing anything that might interrupt the ritual.

Yachiru Kusajishi felt the force above her head and abruptly turned to look at Liu Hao. Her large eyes were filled with anxiety and confusion, as if asking: Why are you stopping me? Kenpachi is injured! He needs me!

Liu Hao looked at her, a gentle smile playing on his lips. That smile was like the spring sunshine, like a winter fire, like a beacon in the darkness—warm and bright, carrying a reassuring power.

He spoke softly, his voice low but clear enough to reach Yachiru's ears. His voice carried a soothing, trusting quality. "Little Deer, don't worry. Don't forget, within my Bankai domain, any injury can be instantly healed if I wish."

These words acted as a reassurance, easing the anxiety that had been weighing on Yachiru Kusajishi's mind.

She recalled the wounds that kept appearing and healing on Kenpachi Zaraki's body, the wounds that had been slashed by the Imperial Guards and then quickly recovered, and Liu Hao's miraculous healing abilities. A look of realization flashed in her eyes, and tears still welled up in them, but her body had stopped trembling.

She turned around and looked at Kenpachi Zaraki again.

As expected, Kenpachi Zaraki's severed arm had fully recovered. The new arm grew from the break in his shoulder, with fair and smooth skin, strong and powerful muscles, and long and flexible fingers, indistinguishable from his original arm.

The severed bones, muscles, blood vessels, and nerves had all completely regenerated, showing no trace of injury whatsoever. Kenpachi Zaraki moved his newly grown arm, his fingers bending and stretching, his wrist rotating and flipping, the movements fluid and natural, as if the arm had never been severed at all.

However, Kenpachi Zaraki was not paying attention to whether his severed arm had recovered. His attention was completely elsewhere—his eyes were fixed on the six Imperial Guards surrounding him, his gaze sharp and intense, like two drawn swords, like two burning flames.

His breathing was rapid and heavy, his chest heaving violently, and his body leaned slightly forward, like a beast cornered and ready to launch a final counterattack.

His Reiatsu underwent some subtle changes at this moment.

The Reiatsu, which had already weakened to its lowest point, seemed to be ignited by something and began to slowly rise again. At first, it was just a trickle, so fine as to be almost imperceptible, but it quickly turned into a rushing river, a surging river, and a vast ocean.

Reiatsu surged from Kenpachi Zaraki's body, spreading through the air. The temperature, density, and purity of that Reiatsu were all higher than before. A suffocating sense of oppression filled the air—a unique, primal, and wild oppression belonging to Kenpachi Zaraki.

The Reiatsu continued to rise, like an ever-increasing balloon, a constantly heating furnace, a spring constantly accumulating power. It surpassed its previous peak, surpassed any height that Kenpachi Zaraki had ever reached, and was heading towards a completely new, unknown, and incredible realm.