Liu Ziyun vs. Aizen (5)

Without any hesitation, Liu Ziyun raised the Life-Taker Tulu, pointed the tip at his abdomen, and then—stabbed it in.

The blade plunged into his abdomen, and blood gushed from the wound, blooming into red flowers in the darkness. A sharp pain, like an electric shock, coursed through his body, causing him to tremble involuntarily, but his expression remained unchanged; he didn't even furrow his brow.

"Change Fate." His voice echoed in the darkness, deep and firm, each word seemingly defying the weight of the entire world.

The moment he finished speaking, the darkness before him began to shatter. Cracks appeared in the darkness like glass, spreading outwards like a spider web, growing denser and deeper. Then—it shattered with a deafening roar, turning into countless fragments that vanished into the void.

Light returned to his eyes.

He still stood in the air, still facing Sōsuke Aizen, his Life-Taker Tulu blade still pointed at his opponent, the blade devoid of any blood—his abdomen was intact, without wounds or pain, as if the previous strike had never occurred.

He raised his head, looked at Aizen, and a cold smile appeared on his lips. That smile contained a hint of mockery, a hint of contempt, and a hint of chilling confidence.

"Sōsuke Aizen," his voice was calm and cold, each word like a knife piercing Aizen's pride, "What, you think you can deceive me with Kyouka Suigetsu?"

He swung his knife as soon as he finished speaking.

The speed of the blade was astonishing, so fast that Aizen didn't even have time to react. The blade sliced across his waist, from left to right, almost severing him in half. Blood gushed out, forming a crimson waterfall in the air, and his body swayed in mid-air, almost falling.

Aizen steadied himself, looked down at the wound on his waist that had almost cut him in two, then looked up at Liu Ziyun. For the first time, genuine, heartfelt shock appeared in those brown eyes—not the shock of being slashed, but the shock of his Kyouka Suigetsu being broken.

"How did you manage to evade my Kyouka Suigetsu?" His voice was low and hoarse, tinged with disbelief and resentment.

Liu Ziyun sneered, a smile tinged with smugness and mystery, "I merely changed the fate of witnessing your Zanpakuto's release."

Aizen's pupils contracted slightly.

Changing destiny—it's that ability again. It's not about resisting the hypnosis of Kyouka Suigetsu, nor about breaking the illusion of Kyouka Suigetsu, but about directly changing the fact of "seeing the liberation of Kyouka Suigetsu" at its root. You were never hypnotized at all, because the "liberation of Kyouka Suigetsu" that you saw never happened in your destiny.

"I see," Aizen's voice held a mixture of helplessness and relief. "It seems I have no choice but to defeat you with strength."

His wounds healed once more, the white substance filling, repairing, and restoring the wound that had almost severed him at the waist. His Reiatsu surged again, the power stronger, more violent, and more unfathomable than before.

The Hōgyoku pulsed within his chest, emitting an eerie purple light that seeped into his body and soul, propelling him to a higher level.

The two figures clashed again, and this battle was more intense, more dangerous, and closer to the brink of death than before.

Liu Ziyun's blade rained down like a storm, one strike after another, each faster than the last, each strike carrying an unstoppable killing intent, each strike aiming to cleave Aizen in two. Although Aizen's defense remained precise, under Liu Ziyun's tempestuous onslaught, more and more openings began to appear.

Liu Ziyun's blade sliced across Aizen's body again and again, leaving deep wounds. Each wound was deeper and more fatal than the last—shoulders, arms, chest, waist, thighs—every inch of skin was kissed by the blade, every muscle torn apart.

Aizen's Reiatsu began to decrease, his movements slowed, and his breathing became rapid. The white substance healed his wounds again and again, but the healing became slower and more laborious. The power of the Hōgyoku was being depleted, his body was collapsing, and his will was wavering.

But he still didn't fall.

He was still standing, still holding the knife, still smiling. But the composure and confidence of before were gone from that smile; instead, there was a hint of bitterness, a hint of helplessness, and an almost stubborn unwillingness to give up.

Looking at the man who still refused to fall, Liu Ziyun's eyes flashed with a complex light—admiration, pity, and a kind of mutual appreciation that only soldiers could understand.

"Aizen," his voice was calm as still water, yet carried an undeniable power, "It seems you're quite patient. You really think you can't take Hōgyoku me after I've fused with the Hogyoku, just by using me as a punching bag?"

Aizen raised his head and looked at Liu Ziyun. Something was churning in his brown eyes—anger, resentment, and a kind of almost relieved emotion that even he himself could not understand.

"It seems," his voice was hoarse and low, tinged with self-mockery, "That you, who so severely injured me, are quite proud."

As soon as he finished speaking, his body began to change.

Cracks began to appear on his body, spreading outwards like a spider web from his chest, covering his arms, legs, torso, and face. A blinding purple light emanated from the cracks—the light of the Hōgyoku, the light of evolution, the light of transcendence.

Then—his body exploded.

It wasn't an explosion, nor was it shattering; it was a transformation. His body, like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, broke free from the cracks, revealing a new and more powerful form before everyone.

Three pairs of wings emerged from behind him—no, they weren't wings, but six petal-like structures formed from Reiatsu, unfolding behind him like a blooming black flower.

His hair had grown long, reaching his waist, shimmering with a dark purple light in the Hueco Mundo, hazy glow. His glasses were gone, and his brown eyes had become even deeper, sharper, and more unfathomable.

His body was covered by a layer of black substance, which protected him like armor and gleamed eerily in the light. His Reiatsu surged several times over the instant his three pairs of wings unfolded.

The power was so immense that even the Soul Reaper in the distance involuntarily took several steps back. Their faces were filled with shock and disbelief—they thought that was Aizen's limit just now, but Aizen at this moment was many times stronger than before.