Chapter Thirty-Eight: The First Encounter

……
Silent meditation.
With a great enemy looming, in the rare sanctuary of the First Division Captain’s resting quarters, Shigekuni Yamamoto knelt on the tatami mats in deep contemplation.
……
Chōjirō sat nearby on a cushion, ceaselessly handling a stack of reports with the brush in his hand.
As vice-captain, Chōjirō always managed all the captain’s affairs for Shigekuni Yamamoto.
“Sigh…”
He let out a faint sigh—how could his luck be so unfortunate?
“…Chōjirō.”
After an eerie silence, Shigekuni Yamamoto finally spoke.
“Huh? What is it?”
Surprised to be addressed by Yamamoto, Chōjirō’s hand trembled and he looked up in astonishment.
“Take your sword and come with me to the World of the Living.”
Rising from the tatami, Yamamoto picked up his zanpakutō beside him.
“The… World of the Living?”
Now? To the World of the Living? What for? Aren’t there already two captains stationed there?
“There is someone I wish to meet.”
“?”
………………………………………………
World of the Living.
Forest.
This was once a tranquil paradise.
Now, it was hell.
Corpses and bloodstains covered the earth.
A man in black stood amidst it all, his left hand gripping the body of a man draped in a white haori, eyes narrowed, gazing at the dying captain before him.
“You truly surprise me.”
A cold smile curled the lips of the man in black, his body showing not the slightest sign of injury.
“So, the power of Bankai really does vary from person to person?”
At his feet lay another man in a white haori.
“You two are worlds apart from the likes of Chiharu Ichino’s Bankai. Is the gap of a century truly so insurmountable?”
“Your Majesty.”
“You have returned, Zeidlitz?”
The man cast a sidelong glance at his lieutenant.
“Yes, the two hundred Soul Reapers have all been dealt with.”
“Excellent. Now then…”
He looked again at the Soul Reaper in his grasp, a faint smile on his lips.
“This must be our first meeting, I believe.”
“Bang…”
The gate between worlds opened, revealing two figures.
The man in black turned slightly, his gaze filled with cruelty and coldness.
“Shigekuni Yamamoto.”
“So you are the leader of the rebel army?”
Shigekuni Yamamoto emerged from the gate with Chōjirō, his expression grave as he questioned him.
“!!”
But Chōjirō instantly regretted stepping out.
Countless comrades lay strewn across the ground, their bodies mangled and bloody, and the two captains in charge were equally covered in blood and motionless.
“This… this is…”
Who could be so savage? Who so mad?
Who could commit such a massacre that outrages both gods and men?
“Was it you???”
Chōjirō drew his sword in fury, his spiritual pressure rising with his anger, so much so that he seemed to dominate the entire scene.
“Smack.”
“!”
Yamamoto reached out to block Chōjirō’s wrist, keeping his sword sheathed.
“Unexpectedly calm. Or perhaps…”
The man released his grip, and the Soul Reaper he held collapsed lifelessly to the ground.
Turning, he gazed up at Yamamoto and Chōjirō floating above.
“Could it be a coldness I should have expected?”
“In the Soul Society, you allowed your subordinates to use Bankai without concern whether ordinary souls could withstand the spiritual pressure, resulting in many deaths.”
He extended his hand, as if describing something as commonplace as eating or drinking.
“Now you sacrifice two captain-level Soul Reapers and two hundred ordinary squad members just to test my strength.”
“Even without meeting you, one feels fear.”
The man in black drew the sword at his waist, a hint of a cold smile playing on his lips.
“Lord Yamamoto…”
Chōjirō glanced at the brooding Yamamoto beside him, unable to believe that the person he had always admired could orchestrate such events.
“Likewise, your Thirteen Court Guard Squads, able to carry out your orders with ruthless indifference, are equally terrifying—though lacking somewhat in power.”
“Swish!”
The man’s sword was fully drawn.
He stood upon the earth like a god of battle.
“My name is Yhwach.”
He spoke his name aloud.
“Unfortunately, your calculations were wrong, Shigekuni Yamamoto.”
Yhwach sneered, continuing,
“How can you be certain that what I used to defeat these Soul Reapers is the full extent of my power?”
“That weakling over there, the one who’s like a cat, is yours, Chōjirō.”
Yamamoto descended to the ground, then said coolly, “You claim you haven’t used your full strength?”
“No matter.”
His aura shifted; Yamamoto’s visage became as fierce as that of a demon.
“Even if it’s not your full strength, as long as I finish you here, everything ends.”
“Hmph. Do you know how many humans the Soul Reapers have slaughtered this time, Yamamoto?”
Yhwach raised his sword, covering his face.
On its shining blade, Yamamoto’s reflection appeared.
“Two hundred and sixty-eight.”
“Of course, I admit that some of these humans with spiritual pressure were indeed relatives of the Silver Cross Knights.”
“But what surprises me even more…”
Yhwach’s eye appeared from behind the blade, its expression baffling.
Like a beast skilled in killing discovering another with the same thirst—a strange frenzy.
“Is your cruelty.”
As leaders, Yhwach and Yamamoto shared many traits.
“Swish!”
The sword swept through the air, leaving behind a massive arc of concentrated spiritual particles.
“But you made a mistake.”
The conglomerate of spiritual particles morphed into a bow-like weapon, upon which was set a giant spiritual arrow.
“Zeidlitz’s strength is not inferior to captain level.”
“Boom!”
The giant spiritual arrow shot straight at Yamamoto!
“Boom!”
Explosion.
“Is that so? Then…”
From the smoke, Yamamoto emerged, blocking Yhwach’s attack with one hand.
“How well do you understand Chōjirō?”
………………………………
“A pleasure to meet you, Vice-Captain Chōjirō Sasakibe of the First Division.” Zeidlitz folded his hands behind his back, greeting Chōjirō in a calm manner. “I am His Majesty’s subordinate officer, Zeidlitz.”
“Move aside. I need to assist Lord Yamamoto.”
“Impossible.”
Zeidlitz closed his eyes, refusing Chōjirō.
“I cannot allow anyone to harm His Majesty.”
“Lord Yamamoto’s power exceeds your imagination.”
“I do not underestimate Shigekuni Yamamoto.”
Zeidlitz opened his eyes slightly, a fierce glint appearing.
“I will settle you quickly, then go assist His Majesty in taking down that old man.”
“You’ll never have that chance.” Chōjirō drew his zanpakutō, revealing for the first time an aura brimming with murderous intent.
“I’ll stop you here, then help Lord Yamamoto to take down your so-called ‘Majesty’…”
“…and finish him.”