Chapter 96: A World of Difference

Did Hua Jie kneel? No, not a chance. Don't do that... If she has truly knelt, then I’ll deal with Sword Eight first. As for that Bankai of Hua Jie—what use is it, anyway? I can’t make sense of anything except the blood. Someone good at this, explain it to me.

A massive blade came slashing down from the sky; from its momentum alone it carried a feeling that could not be stopped, and now it pointed straight at him.

A brutal crack.

At first he thought he should feel the pain, but none came. Somehow, the Bright King’s attack from behind Komamura had veered off its course and landed at his side.

“Komamura...”

Tosen looked up in astonishment at the shinigami there, a man who could scarcely be called human. Though he could see nothing, Tosen knew clearly that Komamura must be in deep sorrow.

Whether he was unwilling to act against himself or unable to act against himself, in either case Komamura had given up the chance to defeat Tosen completely.

How foolish.

He twisted the sword gripped in Komamura’s hand with force; the hand in agony instinctively opened, and the blade was free again.

A sharp hiss.

Qingchong had carved a deep wound across that huge frame; even Tosen could feel through the steel that the strike had even touched bone.

“How insanely stupid, Komamura!”

Tosen shouted, almost wildly, his blade still soaked with a friend’s blood.

“You gave up the chance to beat your opponent! That is evil.”

“You still cannot understand it!”

With one hand he spun his Zanpakutō at breakneck speed in his palm, producing a fierce tearing sound in the air.

“Even if stained in fresh blood, victory—”

He caught the sword again, the thrusting stance returning once more, and the blade once again aimed at the already grievously wounded giant body.

“—is called justice.”

Having released the sword from his grip, Komamura of course did not hear that high-flown speech. He had spared Tosen earlier, hoping to redeem him through mercy, and now that same mercy had cost him dearly.

Have you truly lost the ability to return, my friend?

A cold gleam flashed.

The shining blade stabbed straight into Komamura’s abdomen. The height gap between them left Tosen no real escape; he could not simply leave himself half-hanging in the air and strike at Komamura’s chest.

It went in deep. Even though Komamura tensed every muscle the instant the blade entered, he still could not stop Tosen’s unstoppable thrust until the edge was almost entirely buried inside him.

A hard strike.
A start.

Komamura grabbed Tosen’s hand and pulled it back, and at last his vision returned.

“At last, we can talk again, Tosen.”

“Is the blade... impossible to pull out?”

Tosen tried to draw it out of Komamura, but the monster-force with which Komamura held him pinned him down. He could scarcely move at all.

“At least—”

Dragging his battered body, Komamura raised the sword he held, and this time his intent to finish was fixed.

“Let me leave you here myself.”

A hiss and a flash.

At such close range, now that Tosen was in Komamura’s grasp, there was no chance to dodge. Komamura’s strike ended him without question.

A resounding thud.

With a crash, the master fell, and the field that could strip away the senses collapsed with it. Before everyone’s eyes it shattered into flying fragments and vanished into the sky of the Soul Society.

A soft clack.

Komamura pulled Qingchong out of his own body and let him go, along with the badly wounded Tosen in tow. His gaze no longer lingered on this lost friend.

“Aizen...”

“I did not expect you to be so troublesome, Komamura.”

On Aizen’s body, two fearsome assassins still held blades at his throat, yet none of it shook him.

Before a loyal friend’s betrayal, Komamura could still keep a spark of calm. But before the architect who had branded that friend a traitor, there was no way for him to remain at peace.

“Aizen!”

Behind them, the Bright King—which had also been badly wounded—lifted its blade and swung directly at the man restrained by Yoi and Shifeng.

“Move back, Shifeng!”

A Bankai, after all, is not something one can casually absorb. Yoi immediately warned Shifeng, and together they slipped away from Aizen in a flash.

The moment they moved, the giant blade had already reached Aizen’s head; even the ground beneath his feet cracked from the pressure.

A thunderous blast.

Brute force, giant blade—
combined, the power was immense, nearly scoring a deep split across the surface of Shuangji Hill.

A Bankai is indeed not an attack to be blocked on a whim—

Yet this time it had met Aizen.

“So that’s all a Bankai is, Komamura.”

“!”

Aizen appeared at Komamura’s front somehow, holding out one finger, his face still wearing that gentle smile.

A white beam shot through Komamura’s chest and flung upward toward the sky.

“To destroy the source itself is enough. Then even the strongest Bankai is meaningless.”

A cracking cry.

Komamura coughed up blood. A great fissure opened across the chest of the gigantic Bright King behind him, its armor torn apart.

Oh—

The huge form collapsed with a dull, heavy sound. The towering Bright King disappeared together with Komamura’s fall, vanishing without a trace.

“So that is the final blow, isn’t it?”

Suffering repeated severe injuries, even a hard man like Komamura could no longer keep standing; he had no strength left to hold on a moment more.

“Tsk... Shifeng, be careful!”

Yoi bit down hard. Their side was catastrophically at a disadvantage.

Aizen’s power was unfathomable. Even when he felled Komamura moments ago, he had not used his Zanpakutō.

Behind her, Byakuya could still stand, barely, but in his grave injuries he was likely unable to swing a sword now. Asanui and Ichigo had already been defeated by Aizen earlier and had lost all ability to move. Now the only ones who could still stand against Aizen were Yoi, Shifeng, and Hisagi—his presence almost negligible.

Two assassins facing one overwhelmingly powerful opponent: no matter how one counted it, their chance of victory was almost zero.

What a dreadful situation this was.

Cold sweat beaded on Yoi’s face.

“Do not be so tense, Yoi Shihouin.”

Aizen approached the visibly tense woman and spoke in a soft voice.

“The gap between us is not something that can be bridged by mere readiness and patience; no matter how you struggle, it is futile.”

“A chasm between heaven and earth—that is how one would describe it.”

“So that is what you call a heaven-and-earth difference, is it?”

“!”

“How late you finally came.”

An old voice suddenly rang out behind Aizen. Yoi and Shifeng both startled, but Aizen was unsurprised; he turned his head calmly to look back.

Genryusai Yamamoto, Shunsui Kyoraku, Jushiro Ukitake, and several lieutenants who could still move were now all gathered there.

“We have waited long.”

“To meet again in a mood like this...”

Kyoraku lifted his war-hat slightly. Although his face seemed to carry a sigh, the killing intent in his eyes was exact, and Aizen read it perfectly.

“It is truly painful, Captain Aizen.”

“You want to reminisce? Too bad, Captain Kyoraku, the moment is no longer one for that.”

“True enough...”

“You betrayed us, Aizen.”

Genryusai stepped forward. Though he looked truly diminished by age, if anyone in the Soul Society could make Aizen care, it was surely this man.

“To say this only now is late, and we have no intention of explaining ourselves, and besides—”

“There is no time.”

A great crack.

The sky suddenly split like glass. From a black wound in it, several huge black figures with bone masks emerged, and then two golden shafts of light enveloped Aizen and the wounded Tosen.

“Well then… one last time.”

Lifting his head, and through his lenses observing the army of the Quiet Spirit Court rushing in, a smile of inscrutable depth settled at the corner of his mouth.

“Farewell, Shinigami.”