Hell Floating Above a Sea of Blood, Called the World

Uchiha Yato braced himself on his sword, using Scarlet Eye to support his body as he watched Mochizuki Hanzō from afar.

Since the other man had been merciful enough to spare his life, Yato wasn't about to make any unnecessary moves and throw his life away.

After all, he was a double agent, playing both Seireitei and Aizen. That admirable virtue called "loyalty" was something Yato lacked somewhat.

Besides, Yato was badly wounded. One-Sword Cremation had nearly blasted him into a cripple, and even lifting a finger took effort. Even if he wanted to stop him, he couldn't.

Risking his life to this extent, even the harshest person couldn't blame him for anything.

Right now, he only wanted to see what Mochizuki Hanzō was planning.

Seven bodies, seven Rukongai districts, seven indiscriminate Kidō massacres.

Was he venting his rage? Taking revenge? Or was there something deeper...

In the distance, amid a sea of flames, Mochizuki Hanzō closed his eyes.

Pop.

Pop.

Two strange forces, like droplets of water, fell into Mochizuki Hanzō's body.

Including the first one, three separated souls and portions of Reiatsu had returned to Mochizuki Hanzō's main body.

—The other three clones had all been slain by the Gotei 13!

The Ryoka opened his eyes, his expression dim.

If he used his remaining Reiatsu to activate Bankai, then given Seven-Headed Dragon's nature, he would undoubtedly die.

"Captain Saitō... as expected, all who wield swords meet violent deaths."

He murmured to himself, focusing his mind as Kidō Reiatsu erupted from his body.

Every building in the area had already been destroyed. Countless people were dead or wounded, and streams of blood evaporated amid the blazing flames, becoming a crimson mist.

"The fires of heaven fall into hell; vast blue, emerald green, burning wood, bronze cauldrons, the morning star and the Holy Mother, all as one..."

His voice traveled through the blood-red fog and echoed through the sea of flames. His Reiatsu let out a low hum, as though singing a mournful dirge.

Yato, far away, frowned deeply.

As Shin'ō Academy's top prodigy, Uchiha Yato had been exceptionally skilled in Kidō, easily earning full marks in his graduation assessment.

Whether it was Hadō, Bakudō, or even the healing arts he was least skilled in, Yato was highly confident. He had memorized every Kidō chant by heart and could write them backward without getting even half a word wrong.

But he had never even heard Mochizuki Hanzō's chant before.

Uchiha Yato naturally didn't think Mochizuki Hanzō had suddenly gone mad and made up a chant on the spot.

So...

"Is it a forbidden technique even more classified than [One-Sword Cremation]?"

Yato drew in a sharp breath, preparing himself to endure the aftermath of this supreme Kidō.

Yet what he hadn't expected was that even after Mochizuki Hanzō recited the final word, no devastating Kidō descended.

Instead, a massive symbol as black as ink jade condensed in the air.

It was made of simple lines, broad at the bottom and narrow at the top. It looked somewhat like... an arrow?

The huge black arrow-like symbol rumbled in the air. Like a pointer, it shifted position before ultimately indicating a spot below.

By sheer coincidence, that spot was quite close to Uchiha Yato. He could reach it in just a few steps.

But Mochizuki Hanzō clearly had no attention to spare for the youth now. He hurried to where the arrow pointed and began digging with his hands, as though searching for something.

His arms trembled slightly, his gaze reverent, as though he wasn't digging through earth but making a pilgrimage.

[Eight Hundred and Fifty Years Ago]

"Captain? Captain!"

"Hm? Why are you shaking me... I'm not dead yet."

"We need to leave quickly! I can smell the Senkaimon. Seireitei's pursuers are right behind us!"

"I know, you idiot brat."

Saitō Immortal swayed as she rose to her feet.

She was petite, with twin-tails and an exquisitely beautiful face.

Unfortunately, her body could almost be described as riddled with wounds. Her white captain's haori had been dyed red with blood, and her left sleeve hung empty. She had already lost an arm in the earlier battle.

"Captain, why don't you just attach my arm..."

"Get lost." The girl shot Mochizuki Hanzō a sidelong glance. "I don't want the arm of a man that's so thick and rough."

The young Mochizuki Hanzō grimaced as blood streamed down his face.

"Heh, that's definitely going to leave a scar." Saitō Immortal's lips curved upward. Even now, she still had the mood to gloat. "That brat Sasakibe Chōjirō's Bankai looks pretty good. You could only withstand one strike from it. Tsk, tsk, tsk."

"Captain, I swear I'll learn a Bankai stronger than his!"

"That's the spirit. Now that's more like it, you idiot brat!" The twin-tailed captain smiled. "Too bad I won't live to see that day."

"Captain, you..."

An immense Reiatsu obliterated the rest of Mochizuki Hanzō's words.

This Reiatsu was enough to tear continents apart, swallow the deep sea, and burn the heavens away.

It was unimaginably ancient, powerful enough to be regarded as divine!

Under that overwhelming Reiatsu, even the battle-hardened Mochizuki Hanzō could only hold on for a few breaths before collapsing to his knees, his consciousness gradually sinking into chaos.

Saitō Immortal was still smiling. Facing a powerful enemy written into legend, the first captain of the Sixth Division showed neither sorrow nor fear.

"Monk, I only gave that human swine a slash. Did you really have to chase me all the way to Hueco Mundo yourself?"

After those words, the sky that had remained night for ten thousand years in Hueco Mundo suddenly brightened slightly.

As though it had been stripped of [black].

"Looks like you're really angry."

Saitō curled her lips, crouched down, and placed her uninjured right hand over Mochizuki Hanzō's face.

"I'll send you into the depths of Hueco Mundo. Don't return to the Soul Society."

"But with your temper, you'll definitely make a fuss about coming to save me. At the very least, you'll come collect my body."

Mochizuki Hanzō's consciousness was growing hazy, but he still remembered every word his captain said.

"I may die, or I may be locked in Muken, or imprisoned in the Soul King Palace."

"If I end up in the Soul King Palace, you'll need a [Royal Key] at the very least... I buried that thing in Zaraki District, where we once lived together."

"That Yhwach fellow won't give up on the Soul Society. There's a good chance he'll attack again someday. When that happens, you can enter amid the chaos and obtain the [Royal Key]."

"Idiot... brat."

"If we ever meet again, show me your Bankai."

Feeling the warmth of his captain's skin, Mochizuki Hanzō could no longer hold on and fell into a deep sleep.

From that day onward, he never saw Saitō Immortal again.

Yet the softness of her fingertips still lingered in his dreams.

[Eight Hundred and Fifty Years Later, Present Day]

Mochizuki Hanzō's digging hand suddenly froze.

A delicate softness brushed against his fingertips.

This feeling... was strangely familiar.

The middle-aged man, whose face had been completely ruined, pressed his lips together and gently pulled the object from the earth.

Not far away, Uchiha Yato felt a chill rise from the depths of his heart at the sight.

What Mochizuki Hanzō had dug out of the ground was actually a fair, slender woman's arm!

Mochizuki Hanzō clutched the arm to his chest, his body trembling as he let out a whimpering cry. "Captain... so the Royal Key was... They turned you into...!"

He had thought he could restrain his anger and suppress his feelings. Yet the instant he touched Saitō Immortal's remains, the steadfast reason he had built over a thousand years of time collapsed like a breached dam.

Suddenly, Mochizuki Hanzō jerked his head up and looked toward the sky.

Captain, did you die up there?

The last words the purple-haired girl had spoken to him flashed through Mochizuki Hanzō's mind.

—If we ever meet again, show me your Bankai.

The Ryoka gently stroked the severed arm and spoke softly.

"Mochizuki Hanzō obeys, Captain Saitō."

Three pairs of enormous black wings emerged from his back, dragons and serpents entwining around them with monstrous, overwhelming might.

"Bankai... Flying Seven-Headed Dragon."

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