While Gosuke Shigure communed with the spirit of the deceased inside the inner world of his Zanpakutō, on the battlefield, Tsunayashiro Tokinada—wounded and missing an arm—used Shunpo to put distance between himself and his opponent. But fleeing? That was never in his nature.
Despite the pain and heavy blood loss, Tokinada's thoughts weren't on retreat. Gosuke had severed his arm and taken the sword he fought so hard to control. That kind of loss wasn't something Tsunayashiro Tokinada could ignore.
Gritting his teeth, he reached inside his tattered robes with his awkward left hand, drawing forth another Zanpakutō—shorter in length, clearly a blade he had kept in reserve. This was no ordinary sword.
"Inebriate the world, dwell at the edge of the heavens. Overwrite all in your gaze. Sever it—Yanluo Jingdian!"
His voice, filled with pain, cut through the silence. At the utterance of this release command, his face twisted unnaturally, and agony rippled through his frame. That pain came not from the wound—but from his own soul. Yanluo Jingdian devoured his soul energy in order to activate.
This blade was no ordinary weapon; it was the ancestral Zanpakutō passed down by the Tsunayashiro clan's progenitors. Its power was tremendous, but wielding it required a steep price—one Tokinada was now paying with pieces of his very being.
Like Gosuke's "Deceased", this sword demanded soul energy in place of spiritual pressure. In fact, this kind of soul-devouring blade could only be activated by those with extraordinary soul durability—or utter desperation.
Tokinada fit the latter.
Had he used Yanluo Jingdian before the duel with Gosuke—when his soul was still mostly intact—it might have made a difference. But having already overused the "Deceased," a soul-type Zanpakutō from Gosuke's past life, his essence had already been chewed down. Now, forcing Yanluo Jingdian to awaken was a desperate gamble—one made at great cost.
Yanluo Jingdian's unique ability was imitation.
Specifically, it could copy the Shikai of any Zanpakutō the user had seen or experienced. However, Bankai was out of reach, and even the imitations themselves came at a price. The copies were inherently weaker, since only the Tsunayashiro ancestor could wield the sword to its full potential.
Only by sacrificing more of one's soul could the imitated version even approach the original.
And Tokinada's soul? Cracked. Fragile.
Yet, with a snarl, he pushed forward. The first Shikai he invoked through Yanluo Jingdian was that of Unohana Retsu.
"Minazuki…" he muttered.
A spectral, giant, one-eyed manta ray appeared beside him—Unohana's Shikai in its pseudo-form. The creature's gaping maw opened, and Tokinada fed it his bleeding shoulder. As it consumed the wound, the flow of blood halted. But that was the limit.
Minazuki's healing could not restore lost limbs, not even in its genuine form. Even the real Unohana could only stabilize trauma, not regenerate. And this wasn't even the original—just a poor replica. Not even close to Orihime Inoue's future power of rejection and reversal.
But for Tokinada, any relief was enough. He exhaled.
Then his voice deepened.
"It's not over yet."
Fury now overtook reason. Tokinada, eyes crazed and bloodshot, sacrificed yet more of his soul to activate another imitation—
"Reduce all to ash!"
In an instant, the sky of the Menos Forest was set ablaze. Ryūjin Jakka—the most powerful fire-type Zanpakutō—now flared through Tokinada's imitation. Though what he conjured was but a shadow of Genryūsai Yamamoto's devastating flame, the inferno was enough to light the entire battlefield, casting eerie illumination on the darkened caverns.
From afar, a Shinigami observer, cloaked in shadow, watched Gosuke Shigure with wide eyes. The fire revealed Gosuke's features, sparking familiarity—but the identity danced just out of memory.
Amid the roaring blaze, Gosuke moved.
In one hand, he held the now-dormant "Deceased," sealed and silent. In the other, Raijin Sai, his new Zanpakutō, crackled with electric blue power. Thunder split the air. Lightning lanced toward the flaming blade wielded by Tokinada.
Fire met lightning—and the collision was explosive.
BOOM!
A shockwave erupted, sending one figure hurtling through the air. It was Tsunayashiro Tokinada, blown back by the raw collision of elemental power.
He crashed into the stone ground with a grunt. His strength had reached its limit.
After using two high-tier, soul-draining Zanpakutō in succession, Tokinada's body and spirit were crumbling. Even imitating Ryūjin Jakka wasn't enough. At this point, his swordplay was nothing more than flickers—ashes pretending to be flame.
Meanwhile, Gosuke landed silently beside him, Shunpo flickering out.
Looking down, Gosuke spoke in a calm, cutting tone:
"Yanluo Jingdian is indeed powerful… but sacrificing your soul to use it? That only ends one way."
His eyes narrowed. "When your soul was intact, you might've given me trouble. But after exhausting yourself with the 'Deceased'—you're finished."
Then he added with a touch of mockery:
"So? Was my sword easy to use?"
Tokinada, now half-conscious, twitched. He stared up at Gosuke with a vacant expression—soul aching, head pounding. But hearing that question—"my sword"—his blood froze.
The truth clicked.
He had thought the connection between Gosuke and the Zanpakutō he'd stolen was coincidence. But now…
He knew.
His eyes widened, a spark of horror dawning in his mind.
"You…"
He croaked the beginning of a question—then hesitated.
"…How could it be?"
His voice trembled.
But the truth was already there, unspoken, hanging in the scorched air.