The two overwhelming forces clashed in an instant!
BOOM!
Zaraki Kenpachi's grin faltered—just for a heartbeat—as an unimaginable pressure slammed into him from across the clash.
In the blink of an eye, blood sprayed from his knuckles. His grip on his blade trembled, and he staggered backward, boots tearing furrows into the earth.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Each retreating step cratered the ground beneath him, fissures spiderwebbing outward with every impact.
"What monstrous strength…!" Kenpachi's eyes blazed with wild exhilaration. "I've never felt anything like this before!"
Even Unohana Retsu—his only true rival, the one who'd once carved him to the brink of death—had overwhelmed him with precision, endurance, and surgical swordsmanship. But this… this was raw, unrefined power. A storm of spiritual pressure so dense it felt like the sky itself was falling.
"Hahahahaha! Again!"
He roared, unleashing a torrent of Reiatsu that sent dust swirling like a cyclone. With reckless abandon, he swung his Zanpakutō downward in a single, earth-rending arc.
"KENDŌ: TWO BREAKS!"
It was his ultimate strike—the apex of brute force, the culmination of everything he knew. Unlike most Soul Reapers, Kenpachi had never called his Zanpakutō by name. He didn't need Shikai or Bankai. His strength was his sword.
BOOM!
Akira didn't flinch. He met the blow head-on, his own blade crashing against Kenpachi's with a detonation that split the air like thunder.
Smoke and debris choked the battlefield—yet before the cloud even settled, Akira lunged forward again.
Though his Zanpakutō's name remained sealed, his Reiatsu coiled around the blade like molten steel, amplifying every strike beyond its natural limit. Each swing fell like a siege hammer—relentless, precise, and devastating.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Steel met steel in a frenzy of impacts so violent the atmosphere warped. This wasn't a duel—it was a collision of titans.
Even from a distance, Ukitake Jūshirō and Kyōraku Shunsui winced, instinctively covering their ears—but their eyes never left the fight.
"Unbelievable…" Kyōraku murmured, straw hat askew. "Zaraki's actually on the defensive."
From the first exchange onward, Kenpachi hadn't landed a single clean hit. With every clash, Akira's strikes grew heavier, sharper—each one driving Kenpachi back another step.
Blood dripped steadily from Kenpachi's hands. His fingers twitched, bones groaning under the strain. He was nearing his limit.
"Your defeat is inevitable," Akira declared, voice calm yet absolute. He shifted his stance, gathering Reiatsu for a final thrust. "Let's end this."
For the first time, Kenpachi's grin vanished.
Not from fear—but from recognition.
Like Unohana before him, Akira fought with a ferocity that was beautiful in its brutality. And that—that was what made Kenpachi's blood sing.
"Fine!" he bellowed, eyes alight with battle-frenzy. "One last clash—to the death!"
His Reiatsu erupted like a supernova, shattering the sky.
Throughout the Seireitei, Kenpachi was known for his berserker offense. But Akira understood the truth:
Right now, Kenpachi's greatest strength wasn't his attack—it was his will. His spiritual pressure was so overwhelming, so dense, that it functioned as an unbreakable shield. He didn't dodge. He didn't parry. He simply endured—until the enemy broke instead.
"OOOOOMMMM—!"
Ukitake and Kyōraku staggered back as the sheer weight of Kenpachi's Reiatsu bent the air like heat haze. Then—it solidified.
A colossal, spectral skull of golden energy materialized above him, jaws agape, radiating raw, crushing power.
"His Reiatsu… it's condensing into a physical form?!" Ukitake gasped.
"This isn't defense—it's a weapon!" Kyōraku's voice dropped. "That pressure could vaporize high-level Kidō. Even Ittō Kasō wouldn't survive!"
The earth trembled.
The sky cracked.
And on the battlefield, two monsters prepared to decide who would walk away.
At that moment, the captains finally arrived one after another.
Leading the group was Unohana Retsu.
"This is…"
Unohana's pupils narrowed sharply as she took in the scene before her. Though she now served as Captain of the Fourth Division, her past as the first and most fearsome Kenpachi—Soul Society's original sword-woman—remained deeply etched in her instincts. In a single glance, she grasped the entire flow of the battle.
That man… actually forced Zaraki Kenpachi to this state? she thought, genuine surprise flickering beneath her calm exterior.
It defied everything she knew about the limits of even the strongest captains.
Shing!
BOOM!
Before Jūshirō Ukitake or Shunsui Kyōraku could speak, the two combatants—Captain Akira and Zaraki Kenpachi—moved as one!
In the blink of an eye, Akira's blade, the Sword of Oath of Victory, thrust straight toward Kenpachi's guard!
"Guh…!"
Kenpachi grunted as the impact sent him hurtling dozens of meters backward. Cracks spiderwebbed across his solidified Reiatsu armor—but it held.
"No… it didn't pierce through!" gasped one of the onlookers.
Kenpachi, blood already trickling from the corner of his mouth, broke into a wild, exhilarated grin.
But before he could laugh, Akira's eyes sharpened.
He stepped forward once more—and roared—
"AHHHHH!"
Every ounce of his spiritual pressure surged into his zanpakutō. Golden light condensed to a razor-fine point, blinding in its purity—
And then—
It erupted like a divine lance!
BOOOOM—!
At point-blank range, the beam of condensed Reiatsu tore through Kenpachi's reinforced defenses, punching a massive hole clean through his abdomen.
"Cough…!"
Kenpachi staggered. For a heartbeat, he stood frozen—then collapsed heavily onto the cracked earth, blood pooling beneath him.
"Fourth Division, with me—now!" Unohana commanded, already rushing forward.
But Akira remained still, lowering his blade without relief or triumph. He knew better.
After all, this was Zaraki Kenpachi—a man whose body thrived on pain, whose will refused death.
Such a wound wouldn't kill him.
It might not even keep him down for long.
Jūshirō Ukitake watched quietly, then spoke in a solemn, measured tone:
"Congratulations, Captain Akira. The victory is yours."
Beside him, Shunsui Kyōraku said nothing. His kasa cast a shadow over his eyes, but his expression was unreadable—weighed down by something deeper than shock.
In just two days since his appointment…
…this new captain has already gravely wounded two of Soul Society's strongest.
What kind of storm have we invited into the Gotei 13?