Yuko had said her piece, so the other four did not rush forward. They kept a wary eye on the center of the lake.
Thick dust and smoke almost completely shrouded the island. They could not see its center, only faintly sense the spiritual pressure spilling from within.
Spiritual pressure was unique to each Soul Reaper, like an ID card or a driver's license. It could not be mistaken for anyone else's.
And that spiritual pressure was unmistakably similar to Muramasa's.
There was a great deal of it, too.
He had been sealed for over a century... No, was it precisely because he had been sealed for so long that so much spiritual pressure had built up?
The seal had not stopped his growth. Even without Muramasa, he probably would have broken free from within sooner or later.
As the dust and smoke thinned, a figure became visible.
Soon, everyone could see a tall man in an utterly wretched state.
The remnants of his clothing looked like a Shinigami uniform, but its upper half had been destroyed. After so long under seal, his body seemed to have suffered something like muscle atrophy... No, withering was closer. He looked like a rotting corpse.
A long red scarf hung around his neck. Shackle-like restraints bound his wrists, and a broken punitive mask covered his nose, leaving his mouth and eyes visible. They were probably traces of his imprisonment a century ago.
He held a broken Zanpakuto. It had to be Muramasa.
But...
Yuko could find no trace of the man she remembered in his face. It was not his withered skin. It was his expression.
It seemed a century of imprisonment had not helped him understand why Ginrei Kuchiki and Genryusai Yamamoto had done what they did. It had only deepened his