Kenpachi Zaraki vs. Nnoitra

Kenpachi Zaraki stepped forward from behind, took his Zanpakuto from his shoulder, gripped it with both hands, and pointed the tip at Nnoitra. A bloodthirsty smile played on his lips, and his eyes were filled with a thirst for battle.

"Finally, it's my turn." His voice was low and excited. "But—" He glanced back at Liu Ziyun, his brow furrowing slightly, "This guy was beaten so badly before they let me take action. I don't want to fight a weakling."

Liu Ziyun smiled slightly, "Handle it carefully. If you're careless, you'll die."

Kenpachi Zaraki frowned even more deeply. "Is he really that strong?"

Liu Ziyun did not answer, but only gave Nnoitra a meaningful look.

Upon hearing this conversation, Nnoitra's expression shifted from anger to rage. His eyes bulged bloodshot, his facial muscles contorted, and he radiated an almost insane killing intent.

"You—" His voice was low and hoarse, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth, "How dare you look down on me like this?!"

He Zanpakuto high, his Reiatsu surging wildly within him, and began to Resurrección.

Pray, Santa Teresa!

As he Release Phrase, his body began to change. Six enormous arms stretched out from his back, each holding a crescent-shaped scythe.

His Reiatsu surged several times after his Resurrección, and the surrounding air began to distort due to the pressure of that power. He swung the scythes on his six arms, each strike leaving a silvery trail in the air and emitting a sharp whistling sound.

Nelliel frowned as she looked at Nnoitra after his Resurrección. She could sense that Nnoitra was now several levels stronger than before. If she were at her peak, she wouldn't be afraid of him, but her power hadn't fully recovered yet, and if they really fought, the outcome would be uncertain.

"He's Resurrección," she said, turning to Kenpachi Zaraki, her voice tinged with worry. "He's a tough opponent. Perhaps I should handle him..."

Before she could finish speaking, Kenpachi Zaraki had already charged out.

His speed was astonishing, leaving a deep trench in the white sand. He gripped his Zanpakuto, the blade brimming with powerful Reiatsu, and charged straight at Nnoitra like a cannonball.

"Oh—" his voice carried on the wind, tinged with displeasure, "I'm being looked down upon. You'd better just stand there and watch."

Before he could finish speaking, his Zanpakuto had already clashed with Nnoitra's scythe.

Clang!!

The deafening clang of metal clashing echoed through the air, sparks flying everywhere. Kenpachi Zaraki's strength was astonishing; even though Nnoitra used all six arms to block simultaneously, he was still forced back several steps by the impact.

"That's interesting." Kenpachi Zaraki grinned, revealing an excited smile. "Again!"

The battle between the two instantly intensified. Kenpachi Zaraki's swordsmanship was simple and brutal, without fancy moves or complicated techniques, only the purest and most primal power. He slashed down one after another, each strike as heavy as a mountain, each strike carrying a determination to kill.

Nnoitra's attacks were even more varied. The scythes on his six arms attacked simultaneously from different angles, slashing upwards and downwards, thrusting left and right, forming an impenetrable net of death. His speed was astonishing, and every strike was precise and deadly.

But Kenpachi Zaraki's defense was even more astonishing. He didn't dodge Nnoitra's attacks at all, letting the scythes slash at him.

His body was soon covered in wounds, and blood stained his Shihakusho, but he seemed to feel no pain, not even flinching. He simply continued to swing his sword, continuing to slash, each strike heavier and more ferocious than the last.

"This guy..." Nnoitra grew increasingly alarmed as the fight progressed. He had clearly struck Kenpachi Zaraki countless times, each strike enough to incapacitate an ordinary Soul Reaper, but this madman, this monster, seemed to become more excited the more he was injured, and stronger the more he bled.

Kenpachi Zaraki's fighting style is simple—he doesn't care about getting hurt, bleeding, or feeling pain. He only cares about one thing—cutting down his opponent.

This almost frenzied fighting style gave Nnoitra an unprecedented sense of pressure. His attacks became increasingly frantic, his defenses increasingly strained, and his steps increasingly unsteady.

Finally--

Kenpachi Zaraki hands, concentrating all his power on the blades, and then slashed down fiercely.

The strike was as fast as lightning and as heavy as a mountain. Nnoitra used all six arms to block it, but the force of the strike was too great; his scythe was cleaved in two, his arms were severed, and his body was split open.

Blood gushed out as Nnoitra's body arced through the air before crashing heavily to the ground. A deep wound, stretching from his shoulder to his waist, was visible to the bone, and blood gushed from it like a fountain. His eyes were wide open, filled with resentment and disbelief, but his body was paralyzed.

Kenpachi Zaraki stood before him, panting heavily. His body was covered in wounds, and blood dripped from his clothes, pooling into a shocking red stain on the white sand. But his eyes remained bright, and a smile still lingered on his lips.

"Not bad." He looked down at Nnoitra lying on the ground, his tone tinged with approval. "You're strong. Too bad you ran into me."

He turned to look at Orihime Inoue. The girl was standing by the Stone Pillar, her hands covering her mouth, her eyes wide open, her face filled with shock and fear.

She witnessed the entire battle, seeing how Kenpachi Zaraki withstood Nnoitra's attacks with his own body, and how he felled his opponent with a single, blood-soaked strike. The scene was too bloody, too cruel, making her stomach churn.

"Hey, you," Kenpachi Zaraki's voice was hoarse and low, "Come here and heal my wounds."

Orihime Inoue paused for a moment, then quickly ran over. She knelt down next to Kenpachi Zaraki, clasped her hands together, and a shield of light from the Santen Kesshun appeared around her, beginning to heal his wounds.

Just then—a figure appeared silently behind Orihime Inoue.

It was a man with brown skin, silver hair, and a languid gaze. He wore a white robe adorned with Arrancar masks, Zanpakuto hung at his waist. He exuded an almost human aura that seemed out of place in this desolate desert. His face was expressionless, as if he were simply there to do something utterly ordinary.

The Number One Espada – Koyatai Coyote Starrk.

His hand reached out from behind and gently, steadily, placed on Orihime Inoue's shoulder.