Seiya wasn't surprised by how things had unfolded.
After all, he had collected more than enough information. This wasn't his first encounter with Kiganjō, and thanks to Aizen's intervention, the bothersome members of the 11th Division had been cleared away.
Every parameter that could affect Seiya's predictions had already been accounted for.
Facing the labyrinth of battle that stretched before him, Seiya had already located the only exit.
There.
With his spiritual pressure condensing around his body like a razor-sharp blade, Seiya stepped forward. His movement was subtle, abstract even — a small sidestep, just enough to dodge the vertical slash aimed at his face.
He evaded Kiganjō's strike.
But the force of the attack, combined with its oppressive killing intent, wasn't something that simply vanished after missing its target.
The sheer malice clung to the air, like countless needles piercing through Seiya's skin.
Had he been hit head-on, he knew he would have been incapacitated instantly.
Terrifying.
With that thought, Seiya twisted his wrist and aimed a precise thrust at Kiganjō's chest.
The attack landed.
But there was no reason to celebrate.
His blade met Kiganjō's flesh, but the feedback was shallow — like stabbing a solid steel wall.
"Oi, brat."
Kiganjō's cold voice carried not a shred of mercy.
"This time you're not sneaking up on me. What's the deal? You think you've improved enough to take me on head-to-head?"
"Sure, you've made some progress. I'll give you that."
"But if you think that's enough to challenge me…"
Kiganjō's eyes widened in fury.
"You've seriously underestimated who you're up against!"
With a loud roar, Kiganjō lashed out with his leg, aiming a powerful kick at Seiya's chest.
Seiya remained unfazed, sidestepping just in time to avoid the brutal attack.
Then he raised his right hand, spiritual energy already coalescing into a bright, fiery red orb.
Hadō #31: Shakkahō.
The air contracted.
And then exploded outward in a fiery spiral.
BOOM!
Flames roared into the sky, lighting up the night.
Had it not been for Aizen covering his tracks, this level of destruction would have easily attracted the attention of Seireitei's patrols.
Seiya leaped back, putting a good ten meters between himself and Kiganjō.
The series of exchanges — the dodges, the counterattacks — had all gone as predicted.
It was one of the many possible futures he had foreseen.
His fingers clenched tighter around the chain-bound hilt of his zanpakutō.
"Too shallow."
The thought echoed in Seiya's mind.
The difference in spiritual pressure was painfully obvious.
For a Shinigami, spiritual power was everything. And in this case, the gap was insurmountable.
His attacks barely scratched Kiganjō, while any hit from the latter would be devastating.
In their current states, Seiya would be worn down before Kiganjō showed any signs of fatigue.
But Seiya had a plan.
"Use my zanpakutō for feints. Use Kidō as my main form of attack."
This was the strategy he had settled on after countless simulations.
By whittling down Kiganjō's stamina, he could create an opening.
But plans rarely go as expected.
Emerging from the smoke and flames, Kiganjō strode forward — unscathed. His shirt was burned away, revealing a hulking, hairy chest that heaved with every breath.
He looked like a bear stripped of its fur.
Just looking at him was enough to feel the overwhelming pressure he exuded.
"Oi…"
Kiganjō's nostrils flared as he grinned, his expression twisting into something even more grotesque.
"Your movements are strange. Always dodging at just the right moment, always countering from the perfect angle."
"I get it now… Your ability lets you see the future, doesn't it?"
Kiganjō's grin widened, showing off his sharp teeth.
"That's a pretty damn enviable power, kid. Should've been my ability!"
The fact that Kiganjō had figured out Seiya's trick wasn't surprising.
After all, he was a captain-level Shinigami. Even a brute like him had keen battle instincts.
The real question was: What would Kiganjō do now that he knew?
Seiya watched as Kiganjō raised his zanpakutō high into the air.
Despite his crude demeanor, Kiganjō's next words carried a heavy sense of finality.
"Using Bankai within Seireitei is forbidden."
"But you've pissed me off, brat. Just looking at your face makes my chest tighten."
"So I've made up my mind…"
"Even if Old Man Yamamoto comes after me, I'll kill you right here and now."
His killing intent was palpable, the air itself growing heavier with his resolve.
Who cares about rules when your opponent is already dead?
For Kiganjō, Seiya was no longer a person. He was a target to be obliterated.
A breeze stirred.
Seiya could feel it.
The air began to condense and swirl toward Kiganjō's zanpakutō, as though being drawn in by an invisible force.
What the hell is that…?
It was like a black hole, pulling everything into its orbit.
Was this really the power of his zanpakutō?
Even Seiya, who prided himself on preparation, felt his nerves fray.
This was his first time facing a captain's released zanpakutō head-on.
His heart pounded in his chest. His body tensed.
And then Kiganjō spoke.
"Crush him—"
"Enma Ōtsuchi."
BOOM!
A blast of raw power erupted as Kiganjō's zanpakutō transformed.
The shockwave alone sent Seiya staggering backward, his face grim.
And then… his vision flickered.
The future he had been seeing — the countless possibilities — all vanished in an instant.
His ability to see ahead was completely severed.
Everything went dark.
Seiya realized what had happened immediately.
The moment Kiganjō released his zanpakutō, he had fundamentally altered the variables.
Every prediction, every calculation — none of them applied anymore.
He was now facing an entirely new threat.
Before him stood Kiganjō, now towering at over three meters tall.
His body was covered in black, twisted tattoos that seemed to writhe across his skin.
And in his hand…
Gone was the blade of a typical zanpakutō.
What he wielded now was an enormous hammer — grotesque in appearance, lined with rows of deadly spikes.
Enma Ōtsuchi.
The hammer that crushed all in its path.
Kiganjō shifted his stance, planting one foot forward as he raised the hammer high above his head.
Seiya tensed, every muscle in his body on edge.
What's he planning? There's no way that thing can reach me from this distance… Right?
Kiganjō's grin widened further.
"Enough games, kid. It's over."
With a roar, he brought the hammer down.
CRACK!
The sky itself seemed to split open.
Before Seiya could react, a crushing force slammed into him, sending him sprawling to the ground.
What… just happened?
Pain flooded his senses. His vision swam.
Slowly, he tried to push himself up. His right hand clenched the hilt of Ouroboros, the chain biting into his skin.
But his left hand…
His left hand was gone.
Lying several feet away, severed at the wrist, surrounded by a pool of blood.
Oh…
The realization hit him like a freight train.
His lungs spasmed, half of his chest caved in from the impact.
"Cough… cough…!"
Kiganjō approached slowly, dragging his hammer behind him.
"Hurts, doesn't it? Of course it does. That's my power."
"Enma Ōtsuchi ignores distance. It crushes the air itself, making sure I hit my target no matter where they are."
He loomed over Seiya, his expression twisted in cruel satisfaction.
"And to think… I was aiming for your head."
With a snarl, Kiganjō raised his hammer again.
"You should've died already."
Seiya's gaze drifted skyward, past Kiganjō's imposing figure, to the cold moon hanging above.
Am I… going to die here?
Blood pooled beneath him. His grip on Ouroboros tightened.
Something stirred within the blade.
But it wasn't fast enough.
The hammer came down.
CRASH!
Seiya's body shattered beneath the blow.
The battle was over.
Or so it seemed.
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Powerstones?
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