Silence swallowed the bloodshed and death. The moment the single eye opened, its indifferent gaze settled over the entire Central Execution Grounds.
Everything froze in that instant.
Fine black shadows spread across his deep, towering form. Countless branchlike tendrils reached out around Kisaragi Akira, surrounding him at the center like Stars Surrounding the Moon.
The bizarre sight was one he had never seen before, and for a moment, he didn't dare act rashly.
Reishi gradually appeared in the air and solidified, gathering before the offering table to form a slender, gaunt figure.
At the sight, Azashiro Soya's eyes widened slightly, his calm expression instantly shattered.
He instinctively raised his right hand, reaching out with a tremble to touch the figure.
But the moment its shape and face became clear, Azashiro Soya's expression stiffened.
It wasn't his sister?!
The face was unfamiliar, yet somehow familiar, as though he had seen it somewhere before.
As the ink-black shadows continued spreading, one hazy figure after another emerged as Reishi gathered, springing up like mushrooms after the rain.
Cold sweat slid down Kisaragi Akira's forehead.
He had more or less figured out what was happening.
He had released too much Reiatsu, and the ritual had drawn too many responses from the One-Eyed Great Deity.
And then—
All the Reishi left behind by the dead in the execution grounds had been "revived"!
If he remembered correctly,
Azashiro Soya had just said not long ago that nearly his entire family had died in these execution grounds.
As the figures gradually came into focus, their presence growing heavier by the moment,
a cacophony of voices rose around them. The once-ominous execution grounds were starting to resemble a marketplace.
"What on earth happened?"
"Wasn't I dead?"
"That guy in the white haori looks so full of himself."
"Why does my body look so blurry..."
As countless bewildered questions echoed through the grounds, the black shadows surged and boiled, as if they were about to drown everything.
"Kisaragi Akira, what's going on?"
Azashiro Soya furrowed his brow. The situation had clearly slipped beyond his control.
These phantom figures before him were all his former "family."
More than three hundred figures had gathered, making even the vast, deep pit feel cramped.
What was this supposed to be?
An Azashiro Clan family reunion?!
Azashiro Soya felt no affection for his former family. The decaying clan, reeking of money, had abandoned the honor of its ancestors and brought ruin upon itself.
The Azashiro Clan's destruction could be laid at their door.
And it was these people who had caused him decades of pain he still couldn't fully accept.
"Captain Azashiro, why not have a chat with your dad?"
Kisaragi Akira said cautiously. "If I heard right, that middle-aged guy with the bald spot on your left should be your dad."
Azashiro Soya's expression darkened, his blood pressure spiking.
He already knew how unreliable this kid was, but dealing with him in person still made him feel like he was about to lose it.
That Aizen guy was a genius in his own right.
To have put up with this kid for so long without taking a swing at him was genuinely impressive.
"Hmm, don't like your dad?"
Kisaragi Akira pointed. "Then you must like your mom more. Three meters behind you on the left. You're welcome!"
Aizen quietly warned him from the side, "You'd better stop talking, or I'll have to collect your body again tonight."
Noticing Azashiro Soya's murderous glare, Kisaragi Akira gave an awkward laugh and immediately backed down.
When you were dealing with a Captain-level tough guy like this,
it was better to tread carefully.
Who knew if he might be a killer like Unohana Retsu?
Azashiro Soya's gaze swept across the familiar faces, searching for the person he cared about most.
At the moment he was swallowed by the Hollow used for his execution, he had awakened his Zanpakuto.
Uro Zakuro.
Then the nobles' moment of repentance had arrived.
Excruciating pain had swept over the stands. Azashiro Soya had slaughtered the arrogant nobles in the cruelest ways he could imagine.
The stench of blood and offal had filled the execution grounds. Not a single corpse had been left intact.
Compared with the Azashiro Clan members who had died in the jaws of the execution Hollow, the nobles had suffered many times over—dozens, even hundreds of times more.
But avenging himself hadn't brought Azashiro Soya salvation.
Instead, he had felt emptier than ever. He had lost everything he treasured and could only keep walking forward in a daze, down a road with no end.
In the years that followed, he eventually came to terms with things for a time. He decided to make his sister's dying words his life's goal and become a Shinigami with great power.
Decades later, he became the 8th Kenpachi.
Azashiro Soya held himself to the strictest standards of Shinigami conduct, perfectly carrying out his sister's final wish.
"Northwest. In the cell built into the wall."
Just as Azashiro Soya searched, Aizen, who had been silent until then, suddenly offered a hint.
The instant the words left his mouth, Azashiro Soya shattered into countless white motes of light and vanished before their eyes.
"Your observation skills are that sharp, Sosuke?"
Kisaragi Akira asked in surprise. "I can't believe you could tell where his sister was from so far away."
"No."
Aizen shook his head and corrected him. "I didn't find her. I guessed she would be there."
"There's only one cell in the entire execution grounds."
"From the story Azashiro Soya told earlier, he was locked in that cell when his family was executed, watching his relatives die one by one."
"If his sister really cared about him as much as the story suggested, she would certainly be in that cell."
Kisaragi Akira sucked in a breath.
Sosuke really was sharp.
Calm under pressure, cool-headed, quick-witted.
Someone like him could accomplish great things, no matter what he set his mind to.
Compared with those useless drunks in the Soul Society, Aizen outclassed them in every way.
With a friend like him, how could they fail to achieve something great?
Just as Kisaragi Akira was wondering what great thing they ought to do, an unpleasant voice rose from the "revived" crowd.
"That little Azashiro brat deserved to die for what he did to me!"
"Clearly, the punishment was far too lenient."
"It was our mistake not to torture that brat to death."
"By the way, what's going on with us? Why are we mixed in with these commoners?"
"Where are the Shinigami? Where are those fools?!"
Indecent curses and angry denunciations echoed through the crowded execution grounds.
As the "revived" nobles vented the fear and fury left over from their lives, a figure suddenly shoved aside the phantom people on either side and appeared before them.
Kisaragi Akira looked at their repulsive faces, and an overpowering disgust rose in him for no clear reason.
He narrowed his eyes slightly and drove his Reiatsu. The enormous black shadow behind him surged and erupted, sweeping over everything ahead like a tidal wave.
Since you were already dead, you might as well disappear for good.
May the One-Eyed Great Deity bless you forever...
Thank you to the generous reader Lazy Cat l for the tip, and thanks to everyone for the monthly tickets and recommendation votes!
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