"Too slow, too slow!"
Grimmjow's laughter was like blades in a cold wind, piercing through the air with unquestionable confidence and provocation. His eyes flashed with bloodthirsty light, as though he could see the deepest fears and struggles within Ikkaku Madarame's heart.
With a low growl, his figure instantly turned into a dazzling bolt of white lightning, moving so fast it was astounding, as if he had surpassed time itself.
Every movement Grimmjow made was accompanied by the sharp sound of air being torn apart. His claws carved brilliant silver trails through the air, trails that were not merely a visual spectacle, but omens of death.
Each trail contained enough sharpness and power to tear apart steel. They intertwined and collided in midair, letting out piercing shrieks like the whispers of a Soul Reaper, sending chills down one's spine.
Ikkaku Madarame, meanwhile, looked utterly bedraggled. He barely maintained his defensive stance as sweat slid down his forehead, falling into the dust and evaporating instantly.
Grimmjow's increase in power after Resurrección had caught him off guard. Every attempt to counterattack felt like crashing into an invisible barrier, his strength mercilessly dispersed or reflected back at him. He knew full well that if he could not find a way to break through, this battle would become a disaster he could not endure.
At this critical moment between life and death, unprecedented resolve and courage surged within Ikkaku Madarame. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as though he meant to draw all the power between heaven and earth into his body.
As that power flowed in, subtle changes began to occur throughout his body. His skin gradually reddened, as if blazing fire burned beneath it. It was a sign that the potential within him had been completely awakened.
This power