Shrieker grabbed a clone and hurled it straight at Muten Natsu.
The clone detonated with a thunderous blast, only to be completely neutralized by the spreading black ripples.
"You thought those black ripples were the sword's power?" Muten Natsu let out a soft laugh. "That once I drew my blade, I wouldn't be able to block your explosions anymore? How naïve."
"These black ripples aren't the sword's ability. They're the scabbard's." He walked forward at an unhurried pace, ink-like patterns flowing across the exposed skin of his body. "After Shikai, the scabbard returns to my body. The moment an attack approaches, it gathers at the point of impact and blocks it. Its name is [Ink Fortress]."
"No…" Shrieker refused to accept it. "How could a Shikai be this powerful?!"
"Powerful? Not really." Muten Natsu explained patiently. "When Ink Fortress activates, my body hardens as well. It triggers very quickly, but it can only last for a short time. If it lasted any longer, it would damage my body."
Shrieker suddenly realized something. "You mean…"
"That's right." Muten Natsu's lips curled into an increasingly unpleasant smile. "Ink Fortress is basically useless against sustained damage, but it's exceptionally effective against instantaneous impact."
"Don't joke with me!" Shrieker roared, hurling clone after clone. "Are you saying my attacks are completely useless?! Impossible!"
Muten Natsu shifted his body slightly. "Right arm."
The clone exploded. Black ripples bloomed in front of Muten Natsu.
With a sharp metallic clang, a flash of blade light cut through the air.
Shrieker stood frozen. After a long moment, he slowly turned his head to look behind him at Muten Natsu.
As he did, his right arm began to fall away, followed by a spray of blood.
"When Ink Fortress successfully blocks an attack, my Reiatsu mixes with the Reiatsu of the blocked strike, creating the same conditions as a draw technique around me." Muten Natsu raised Myōki in front of him. "That is Unsheathed Draw."
"Muten Natsu!" Shrieker clutched his wound and desperately commanded several clones to charge at Rukia Kuchiki. "You'll regret not killing me in one strike for the rest of your life!"
"Ink Fortress is the scabbard's ability. Unsheathed Draw is my Zanjutsu." Muten Natsu swung Myōki, forcibly dragging back the clones that were closing in on Rukia Kuchiki. "And this is the sword's ability. Myōki!"
Spiderweb-like threads of Reiatsu bound several clones together. Muten Natsu yanked them toward himself with a pull of the blade, then lightning-like energy ran along the edge as he cut them down in a single motion, detonating them all at once.
In its Shikai state, Myōki could use every slashing technique it had ever stored.
Amid the explosions, the clear ringing of the blade stood out sharply.
Unsheathed Iaijutsu!
Shrieker felt a sudden chill at his knees, followed immediately by warmth.
His legs could no longer support his body, because they were no longer attached to it.
Thud!
Shrieker's mangled body collapsed heavily onto the ground.
"Nice posture," Muten Natsu said as he looked down at Shrieker sprawled on the floor. "Do you know why I bothered talking to you for so long?"
"Damn brat…" Shrieker reached out with his remaining hand, clawing toward Muten Natsu.
Muten Natsu pinned that hand to the ground with Myōki, then brought his foot down, crushing the Hollow mask on Shrieker's face. He stared at the human features beneath, twisted in fear. "This is the expression I wanted to see. The look of slowly sinking into the abyss of despair."
Shrieker stretched out his green tongue, trying to trigger another clone explosion.
But just as the forked tongue began to twitch, Muten Natsu stomped down hard on his head. The overwhelming force snapped his jaws shut, making him bite clean through his own tongue.
"Is bullying children really that fun?" Muten Natsu stomped down again. "Hm?"
"Pfft!" Shrieker spat out a mouthful of blood, his voice slurred. "Everything you've done is meaningless. A Zanpakutō will cleanse my sins. I'll go to Soul Society and start a new life!"
"How nice. I really like the way you still cling to hope." Muten Natsu drew Myōki. "That just makes what comes next even more satisfying to watch."
"A Zanpakutō can only cleanse the sins committed after becoming a Hollow," Rukia Kuchiki said coldly. "Hollows who were already steeped in evil while alive are sent straight to Hell."
Shrieker's pupils quivered. "What?"
"Good expression." Muten Natsu raised Myōki. "Remember this despair. You'll get to experience it again and again in the days to come."
Myōki fell, slicing Shrieker cleanly in two.
His shattered body was seized by an invisible force and lifted into the air.
As Shrieker screamed in terror, a deep violet-black gate materialized behind him.
On either side of the gate stood broken, one-armed skeletons with only their upper bodies intact. White bandages wrapped around their heads, covering one eye, with red talismans pinned between the layers. Black chains coiled tightly around their bare bones.
The chains rattled, bones clacking sharply, as the skeletons reached out and braced themselves against the door.
Slowly, the twin gates creaked open, the four chains linking them snapping one after another.
The stench of blood and fire poured out from within, accompanied by a blood-red glow that dyed the sky.
Between the crossed, massive shimenawa ropes, an enormous blade, terrifying in its size, skewered Shrieker's body. The hand gripping the blade was covered in crimson flame-like tattoos.
The skulls on the gate exhaled wisps of pale smoke. Amid Shrieker's shrill howls, a face emerged from beyond the door, letting out a low, rumbling laugh.
"Mm… heh… heh heh… hahahahahahaha!" Golden eyes fixed on Muten Natsu. "Long time no see, Muten Natsu. Still finding the Thousand-Mile Eye of Hell useful?"
The massive blade lifted Shrieker and vanished into the sea of blood-red light. The violet-black gate slammed shut behind him.
"We…" "are…" The skulls on the gate trembled, their voices overlapping. "Waiting…" "for…" "you…"
Cracks spread densely across the Gates of Hell. With a sound like shattering glass, the doors broke apart into countless fragments and faded into the air.
Muten Natsu drove Myōki into his left palm, then brought his hands together, pressing the scabbard in as well. "Then you'll be waiting for quite a while."
The blade did not pierce his hand. It simply vanished into it.
Rukia Kuchiki grabbed Muten Natsu's arm, staring straight into his eyes. "What did all of that just mean?"
Muten Natsu lowered his gaze slightly. "I don't know why I possess Hellfire, but through it, I can communicate with Hell to a certain extent… and make deals."
"When did you…" Rukia Kuchiki caught her breath. "Don't tell me… it was when you escaped from that prison?"
Muten Natsu smiled faintly. "Everything has its price."