Liu Ziyun vs. Aizen (IV)

Sōsuke Aizen's body hovered in mid-air for a moment, the gruesome wound that stretched from his shoulder to his waist healing at a visible speed.

White substance gushed from the edges of his wounds, wriggling, intertwining, and filling them as if alive, reconnecting the torn muscles, rejoining the broken bones, and stopping the gushing blood.

After the white substance covered the entire wound, it began to solidify, harden, and change color, eventually becoming part of the Aizen white robe, as if the fatal wound had never existed.

Aizen lowered his head, looking at his unharmed body, a calm smile appearing on his lips. He raised his head, his brown eyes looking at Liu Ziyun, his eyes carrying a hint of approval, a hint of provocation, and a hint of unfathomable depth.

"Hmm, not bad strength." His voice was calm as still water, as if the sword that had nearly cleaved him in two was merely a gentle breeze. "To injure me in this state in an instant. But—" He paused, his smile deepening, "If it's only this strong, it seems a bit lacking."

Liu Ziyun did not answer. The moment those words were spoken, his eyes began to change—the whites of his eyes, which had been bloodshot, were now being gradually swallowed by a deep, almost bloody red.

The red color began to spread from the corners of his eyes, like ink dripping into clear water, like a flame igniting dry wood, little by little, irreversibly, turning his eyes into two bright red gems burning with a frenzied fighting spirit.

Those were no longer human eyes. They were the eyes of a beast, the eyes of a warrior, the eyes of a person who had suppressed their instincts for too long and could finally unleash them.

His figure disappeared from the spot once again.

The speed of Shunpo was even faster than before, so fast that it left no afterimage, so fast that the air didn't even have time to make a sound. In the next instant, he appeared in front of Aizen, the Life-Taker Tulu blade drawing a strange arc in the air, cutting into Aizen's left shoulder and out from his right waist—another wound that almost severed him at the waist.

Aizen's body swayed in the air, but before he could regain his balance, Liu Ziyun's second slash came down.

The third, the fourth, the fifth—each strike was precise and deadly, each leaving deep wounds on Aizen's body. Blood gushed from those wounds, forming crimson arcs in the void, particularly glaring in the dim light of Hueco Mundo.

Aizen's body was forced back by the relentless barrage of blades, his robes soaked in blood, his face, hands, and body covered in wounds. But his expression remained unchanged, still that calm, confident smile, as if the injuries that would kill an ordinary person ten times over were nothing more than superficial wounds to him.

White substance oozed from the edges of his wounds time and time again, filling the jagged cracks and restoring him to his original state. But Liu Ziyun's blade healed faster than he did—often, before one wound was fully healed, a new one would appear.

Aizen's expression finally darkened.

His smile vanished, and a cold, dangerous glint flashed in his brown eyes. He looked at the wounds on his body that kept appearing and healing, then raised his head to look at Liu Ziyun, his voice filled with suppressed anger and resentment at being humiliated.

"You left me with this insignificant scar," his voice was low and hoarse, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth, "Was it to humiliate me?"

Liu Ziyun did not answer. He simply stood there, gripping the Life-Taker Tulu, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Aizen, devoid of any emotion, only pure, primal, beast-like fighting spirit.

Aizen a deep breath, suppressing his anger, and raised his Zanpakuto, slowly waving it in front of Liu Ziyun. The blade reflected a cold light in the Hueco Mundo, and the patterns on the blade were like the moon's reflection in water, illusory and ethereal.

"Shatter," his voice was calm and deep, each word seemingly echoing from ancient times, "Kyouka Suigetsu."

A faint light flashed across the blade, so fast it was almost invisible. But in that instant, the scene before Liu Ziyun's eyes suddenly changed.

He no longer stood on Hueco Mundo white wasteland of Sōsuke Aizen. He stood in endless darkness, surrounded by boundless nothingness, with a starless sky above and a void without substance beneath his feet.

There was no sound, no light, no direction, nothing to refer to—only endless, suffocating darkness.