The old man had a tall, muscular physique with broad shoulders and a stern look. His face was heavily lined with wrinkles, evidence of a long and storied life, and his eyes are sharp and piercing.
The old man's hands were large and calloused, the hands of a seasoned warrior. His skin was weathered and scarred, evidence of a lifetime of battles and conflict. His moves were rigid but full of experience.
No one spoke as the Head Captain slowly walked forward with his wooden cane in hand.
"Who might you be to make such a ruckus?" Yamamoto said calmly, though his actions contradicted his tone as the very ground trembled beneath his feet as he moved, and the air around him seemed to be charged with tremendous amounts of energy.
"We are the Protectors. We patrol and defend the districts that you selfish bastards refuse to attend to," Nadare spoke with anger. "...I see. And the Zanpakuto?" Yamamoto asked after a couple of seconds of silence. "I made them," Ryu raised his hand casually as he spoke, surprising the captains.
"You... Made them?" Yamamoto man asked with a surprised tone. "Yeah. They are an improved version of the toys you're currently holding," Ryu shrugged as he spoke.
"Are you aware that your actions are upsetting the balance of the cycle of reincarnation?" Yamamoto asked as his tone turned harsher. "And why is that?" Nadare inquired. "The farther districts in the Rukongai are meant to return souls to the cycle. Your actions are causing there to be fewer souls being born than those who die in the world of the living," Yamamoto said as he leaned on his cane.
"There is no place for personal opinion in this, it is the natural order of things. Both you and we have no right to interfere in this matter," Yamamoto continued his explanation.
"Is that so? Then why do the farther districts suffer more than those who are close to the Seireitei? And why are Shinigami and those who are close to the Seireitei completely exempt from it? For someone that says that you have no right to interfere in such a subject, you seem to have quite the effect on it. And even if we aren't taking the cycle of reincarnation into account, the quality of life itself is abhorrent, Nadare spat out.
"The quality of life is what causes more souls to die, hence fueling the reincarnation cycle. As for why the farther districts suffer so much, it's exactly why you think. It's true that we don't interfere in the cycle, we simply choose where it happens. And since it's unpleasant to be surrounded by dying souls, we keep them away. It's our privilege as the strong," Yamamoto said, causing the entire group of Protectors to fume in anger.
"But back to our main concern, you 𝐚𝐫𝐞 aware that we can't let a rouge group of your caliber just wander around Rukongai, correct?" The old man asked. "And just how are you planning to prevent us from doing that? You spoke about the privilege of the strong, right? Let's see who's more deserving of it!" Nadare spoke as he put on his Brass Knuckles.
Yamamoto said nothing. Instead, he simply drew his Zanpakuto.
The air around the two turned thick with tension. Yamamoto straightened his back as he stood tall and imposing, his white robes fluttering slightly in the breeze. Nadare was smaller in size, but he stood against the Head Captain without fear.
The two of them locked eyes and the wind ceased to blow as the world itself seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.
With a sudden burst, both men unleashed their spiritual pressure, causing the ground to shake and the surrounding landscape to warp and twist. The trees bent and broke under the immense force they exuded, and the very air itself seemed to vibrate with their power.
The only reason the effects weren't any worse was that Ryu altered the space to absorb a large portion of the force they exuded.
For what seemed like an eternity, the two of them stood there, neither one gaining the upper hand.
Finally, Nadare made his move.
Nadare darted in close and unleashed a flurry of punches at Yamamoto. Yamamoto expertly deflected the blows with his katana, keeping Nadare at a distance. Yamamoto then launched a counter-attack, swinging his katana in a wide arc toward Nadare. Nadare ducked, narrowly avoiding the blade, and retaliated with a powerful cross that slammed into Yamamoto's chest.
Yamamoto stumbled back, his eyes narrowing as he reassessed the young man before him. Yamamoto charged forward, his katana gleaming in the sunlight as he swung it toward Nadare. Nadare dodged the blade with a fluidity that Yamamoto had never seen before landing a powerful kick to Yamamoto's side, but the seasoned warrior used that chance.
Since Nadare was now immobile, Yamamoto clasped Nadare's leg before slashing at his neck. With pure reflex Nadare leaned back to dodge, receiving only a cut on his forehead, before using the opening of Yamamoto's wide swing to launch a hook at his left cheek. But Yamamoto simply gritted his teeth as stood his ground.
The fact that Nadare had one leg in the air meant he didn't have a stable footing, which resulted in a much weaker punch. Yamamoto unleashed a wave of slashed and stabs toward Nadare, who had no room to dodge due to the loss of maneuverability. Nadare used his Brass Knuckles to deflect major hits, but his body was slowly being filled up with wounds.
But finally, a chance presented itself. Yamamoto committed to a stab aimed at his abdomen. Nadare deflected the stab to his side, and before Yamamoto could retract the blade Nadara wrapped his hands around the Head Captain's head and pulled himself into a devastating headbutt against Yamamoto.
At last, Yamamoto freed Nadare from his grasp as he stepped back, his nose bleeding profusely. Taking advantage of the fact that Yamamoto was stunned, Nadare shot forward as he tried to enter Yamamoto's close range again.
Yamamoto knew that he had to keep Nadare at a distance, but the young man was relentless, pressing forward with incredible speed and agility. If he could get close, Yamamoto's long Katana would be practically useless while his Brass Knuckles would be even more effective. Yamamoto swung his katana again and again, but Nadare seemed to anticipate every move, evading each strike with precision. Nadare landed a few more powerful blows, but Yamamoto's experience allowed him to deflect most of them.
The two fighters continued to exchange blows, their moves becoming faster and more frenzied as they both sought to gain the upper hand. Nadare moved in close, his Brass Knuckles turning into a blur from the speed as he launched a powerful punch toward Yamamoto. Yamamoto deflected the blow with his katana, but the force of Nadare's attack caused a few cracks to appear and made the Head Captain bend the knee from the impact.
As Yamamoto rose to his feet, Nadare could sense that the Head Captain was not finished yet. He felt a powerful spiritual energy emanating from Yamamoto's body, and he knew that the real fight was just beginning. Yamamoto took a deep breath and raised his left hand, calling out the name of his Zanpakuto: "All things of this world, turn to ashes, Ryujin Jakka!" Instantly, the air around them grew hotter, and flames began to swirl around Yamamoto's body.
Nadare felt the intense heat, but he was not intimidated. He raised his own Zanpakuto, the Brass Knuckles on his fists glowing with an icy blue hue. Nadare focused his spiritual energy, calling out the name of his own Shikai: "Claim the frozen throne and unleash your icy reign, Tsumetai Taiki" (Cold Atmosphere). Suddenly, a wave of frost spread out from Nadare's body, extinguishing the flames and enveloping both fighters in a frigid mist.
The two warriors stood opposite each other, their Zanpakutos glowing with power. Yamamoto swung his blade toward Nadare, unleashing a powerful wave of flames. Nadare countered with a flurry of punches, each one striking Yamamoto's blade with incredible force. The sound of metal on metal echoed through the air as the two fighters exchanged blows, flames, and frost clashing over and over again around the two.
Nadare moved with incredible speed and agility, darting in and out of Yamamoto's range as he launched a series of powerful attacks. Yamamoto, for his part, was a master of defense, expertly deflecting each of Nadare's blows with his flaming katana. But Nadare was not deterred. He continued to press forward, his fists moving in a blur as he unleashed a barrage of punches and kicks.
Yamamoto countered with a powerful blast of flames, but Nadare was ready. He focused his spiritual energy and unleashed a wave of icy wind, extinguishing the flames and sending Yamamoto reeling backward, his long beard was covered with a thin layer of frost.
"To think I would have to use this on such a youngster. I'm not sure if this is proof of your immense power or proof as to how low I've fallen," Yamamoto said in between deep breaths. "Shut up and fight," Nadare said as he got into his combat stance.
"Very well. Bankai!" Yamamoto exclaimed.
The sea of flames that engulfed his Zanpakuto retracted into the blade in a split second as Ryujin Jakka's appearance changed drastically.
The once shining blade became dulled and tarnished, with visible signs of wear and tear on its edge. The blade was also heavily scorched, with patches of blackened metal covering parts of its length.
The heat emanating from the sword is intense, with visible wisps of smoke rising from the blade. The smoke appeared to be a mixture of steam and ash, creating an eerie and ominous effect. It almost looked like the sword is smoldering, as if it had just been pulled from a raging inferno.
Despite its worn-out appearance, Ryujin Jakka enhanced its fearsome power, and the heat it now generated was still capable of incinerating everything in its path. The scorched and worn appearance of the sword only served to enhance its intimidating presence, warning anyone who might oppose it of the destructive power that lies within.
"So this is the end, huh? Very well... Bankai," Nadare said in a chilling tone.