Chapter 117: At Mercy


    <span style="font-weight:400">Though Kazuya wished to humble the haughty Zanpakutō Spirit, he knew better than to squander his energies in futile attacks against her shield. He paused, eyes narrowing to study the almost celestial mes surrounding Tsubasa and her guardian shield. These luminous, incandescent fires stood in stark contrast to Nami’s sinister carmine mes. It was as if Tsubasa was crafted to be Nami’s pr opposite — the radiant light to Nami’s darkness — her antithesis.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">‘She might have inherited the life property of Phoenix’s mes.’</i>


    <span style="font-weight:400">One conclusion was irrefutable from their first sh — her mes did not wound him, not even superficially. And why would they? They all originated from his soul.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Gently resting her palm against her ornate mask, Tsubasa tilted her head with a maniacal stiffness. “While I have no objection to standing here as you marvel at my wless grace, the clock is unforgiving, Master. Each moment you waste in this inner world will take a toll upon your consciousness.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Say, am I allowed to beat you by any means necessary?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Thest thing he wanted was for her to invalidate his hard-earned victory through an underhanded tactic; she might do that just to piss him off further.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Your sole objective is to liberate Nami from my grasp. The means are inconsequential as long as your goal is achieved.” She paused, her lips curling into a sly smirk. “Any attempt to use your Oppression ability from a distance would be in vain as we possess the same level of Reiatsu in this realm. It’s almost a pity, really. You have the determination, the unyielding will for protection. What youck is the capacity to bypass my invincible defense.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Her taunts, whether premeditated provocations or genuine overconfidence, only stoked the fires of his resolve to put her into her ce.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Confronted with his seething silence, Tsubasavishly licked her lips. “Conceding—”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Defying her calcted predictions, Kazuya morphed into his Soul form, conjuring his Zanpakutō into existence with a wave of his hand. The katana materialized effortlessly, a stark realization washing over him: Tsubasa had methodically manipted his inner world, transforming it into her personal battleground. It now made sense why she had spent three whole months summoning him into this trial; she was not just growing, but plotting for this precise moment.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Even so, he had no desire to lose against a three months old soul, much less the manifestation of his own desires.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“You do know that de has no special power,” she said, pointing at the katana in his hand. “It’s a de that can never cut through my shield.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“A de is as strong as the one wielding it.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Abruptly, he vanished, reappearing before her in a dazzling streak of Hirenkyaku. Her shield sprang forth to fill the air between them. He lunged, his katana seeking the minuscule gaps in her seemingly invincible shield, only to be repelled by an unseen force. The physical shield, it seemed, was but an illusion — the real protection was a barrier that protected its owner.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Not one to be easily deterred, he kept the onught relentless, darting and shing in fluid strokes, searching for a weak spot in her defense.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“It’s of no use, Master. You must find a new strategy. Isn’t that one of your specialities?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">She was at full leisure to talk despite being attacked from all sides. Even he would be hard pressed to react to such attacks without feeling overwhelmed, which confirmed his theory regarding the automated defense ability of her shield. The shield acted on its own to protect its master from any danger or she had far superior reflexes than him.


    <span style="font-weight:400">A spark ignited in his eyes. <i><span style="font-weight:400">‘I need a pincer attack!’</i>


    <span style="font-weight:400">He transformed into his Hollow form and drew a cut across both of his palms, the blood serving as a catalyst to the superior version of Cero — Gran Rey Cero. Flexing his fingers into talon-like formations, he conjured two azure orbs, each crackling and swirling with raw energy. The orbs expanded enormously until it dwarfed a standard Cero by magnitudes. It was the strongest Gran Ray Cero to ever exist.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Tsubasa curiously observed his actions. It was evident that she still didn’t take him seriously. Her underestimation worked in his favor. He unleashed a Gran Rey Cero from his right hand. Concurrently, his heel struck the earth, propelling him beyond the sound barrier to materialize behind her. Since her shield was guarding her from the first Gran Rey Cero, her back waspletely exposed. Unfurling his left hand, heunched the second Gran Rey Cero.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Suddenly, mes burst forth from the second de hovering near Tsubasa, materializing into yet another shield. The two barriers expanded, amalgamating into a translucent red sphere around her — her ultimate defense, Fumetsu no Seiiki (Indestructible Sanctuary). In this form nothing could reach her.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Valiant, but fruitless,” she said, a smirk curling her lips. "I cannot be harmed—what''s happening?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Her realization came a second toote. He was already gripping both shields, his hands glowing with the familiar glow of his unique ability. Her shell-like barrier presented an opportunity before him — and he had seized it.


    <span style="font-weight:400">His lips contorted into a sneer as his Reiatsu crept like tendrils through her once-unbreakable shields, manipting its essence from within. He lightly flicked each shield, disintegrating them into a cloud of bronze dust that dispersed, eventually bing one with the ashen expanse of Hueco Mundo. Her uniquely crafted des tumbled gracelessly to the ground.


    <span style="font-weight:400">His ‘Oppression’ didn’t distinguish between the real world or his inner world — it destroyed her shields with ease.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“You tricked me—”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Cutting off her stunned retort, he lunged forward, seizing her head in a vice-like grip before smashing her into the ground with shattering force. Kneeling atop her chest to secure her, he squeezed her throat and ripped away her mask. Her oceanic eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her ethereal beauty capable of evoking a sense of sympathy in any man.


    <span style="font-weight:400">But he wasn’t fooled by her crocodile tears.


    <span style="font-weight:400">He raised his hand and swung in a ruthless arc until it made a shuddering impact with her pale cheek. The merciless p instantly painted a side of her face in a vivid scarlet.


    <span style="font-weight:400">A shiver ran through her body, her eyes closing involuntarily, lips bitten as though to trap unspoken words. “This humiliation… is nothing, Master. I shall never regret my decision to put you through a trial. If I’m to lend my strength to someone, I want them to be worthy of it.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Quietly, he delivered a reverse p on her right cheek then another on her left cheek.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Master—”


    <b>SLAP!</b>


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Listen to me—”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“MAST—”


    <b>SLAP!</b> <b>SLAP!</b> <b>SLAP!</b>


    <span style="font-weight:400">His hands moved with grace as he delivered sickening ps across her red face. Her muffled cries and whimpers served as a pleasing music to his vengeance. He satiated every bit of rage in his chest by beating his helpless Zanpakutō Spirit — and he loved every moment of it.


    <span style="font-weight:400">He only stopped when her face had swollen to the point of being unrecognizable. Her entire face was smeared with tears, no haughtiness to be found within her eyes. The ps had humbled her demeanor, at least for now.


    <span style="font-weight:400">With a satisfied smile, he got back up and pulled her to her feet. “Bring Nami to me.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Her trembling lips managed a stutter, “Y-Yes, Master, after I heal…”


    <span style="font-weight:400">As she reached out, her des bolted into her grip. Instead of morphing into shields, they transmuted into twin red muskets, their barrels ornamented with intricate bronze phoenix motifs. Aiming the muzzles toward her chin, she squeezed the triggers, and a roaring inferno enveloped her. When the mes dissipated, her face was back to being wless — she waspletely healed.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Your cruelty ismendable,” she whispered as she gazed at him in awe. “A brute such as you would give his all in protecting your loved ones.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Did you not hear me? I said, bring me to Nami.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“As you wish.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">With a synchronized p, she ignited the destion of her imaginary Hueco Mundo. He found himself in a dpidated throne room. Atop the fragmented majesty of a once regal throne rested the birdcage that held his self-proimed soulmate hostage.