So Grimmjow intended to knock them all down.
Though he admired them, Grimmjow would not do anything unnecessary.
That was simply his nature.
Not long after, perhaps in no more than the blink of an eye, Grimmjow stood amid the ruined battlefield, surrounded by an unmistakable Spiritual Pressure. It was as though even the air trembled because of his presence.
His single punch had not only knocked down the enemy in front of him, but also shaken the hearts of everyone present.
Before his power, those Berserkers seemed so tiny and fragile, like a swarm of ants easily wiped away.
Just as he was about to summon his Fracción to deal with these defeated Berserkers, a strange sensation suddenly welled up within him.
It was an indescribably subtle change, as though some unknown force had gently stirred the air around him.
Grimmjow spun around sharply, his piercing gaze cutting through the night and locking onto the high ground not far away.
There, a group of figures stood or crouched in silence. Some wore Blood Battle Garbs, while others were dressed casually, yet all of them radiated a powerful aura that could not be ignored.
Kenpachi Zaraki studied Grimmjow with an amused look. Ikkaku Madarame's eyes flashed with eagerness, clearly filled with anticipation for the coming battle. Meanwhile, Ayasegawa Yumichika maintained his characteristic elegant bearing, as though everything was already under control.
"Now this is interesting."
Kenpachi Zaraki's voice pierced the silence of the night.
"Did not expect this battlefield, originally prepared for Dog Class Berserkers, to draw in such a powerful Hollow."
There was both surprise and excitement in his tone. Clearly, Grimmjow's appearance had caught him off guard, but also thrilled him.
Grimmjow frowned slightly at those words. He could sense the provocation and disdain in Kenpachi Zaraki's voice,