Chapter 221: Yamamoto.

Chapter 221: Yamamoto.

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[Third Person. POV.]

[First Division.]Ñøv€lRapture marked the initial hosting of this chapter on Ñôv€lß¡n.

The atmosphere in the 1st Division's barracks was tense to say the least. Every Shinigami present could feel it, the thick, suffocating sensation of unease. And at its epicenter was Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto.

His dark eyes gazed intently at a small orb, watching as a reflection of the battle between Adam and Mayuri played out. He had seen enough. As Mayuri's defeated form appeared within the orb, Yamamoto's reiatsu erupted wildly, the ground beneath him trembling from its sheer force as the entire seireitei shook.

Flames, as if drawn from the depths of the sun, swirled around him, making the very air scorching hot. Those flames weren't merely for show; they were a manifestation of Yamamoto's rage at Mayuri's incompetence to defend his division, and at the intruder for daring to attack the soul society in his watch.

Barely able to withstand the pressure of his captain's reiatsu, Chōjirō Sasakibe, hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, concern evident in his eyes. "Captain-Commander... What are you going to do?"

Yamamoto's voice was as cold as ice, a stark contrast to the flames surrounding him. "I will eliminate this threat myself."

Chōjirō swallowed hard. He had been at Yamamoto's side for centuries and had witnessed his strength and wrath firsthand. "I understand he defeated Captain Kurotsuchi without breaking a sweat. But to go yourself? Isn't that a bit overkill? Shouldn't we let the other captains deal with this?"

Yamamoto glanced at his lieutenant, his eyes piercing. "The fact he dealt with Mayuri so easily is exactly why he cannot be allowed to roam the Soul Society unchecked. Mayuri's methods may be questionable, but he's a captain of the Gotei 13, and his defeat cannot be ignored. I won't let this intruder trample over our pride!"

"Understood, Captain-Commander," Chōjirō nodded, his voice filled with admiration and loyalty. "How shall we proceed?"

"We isolate him. I'll engage him in combat directly. I want barriers set up around the battlefield. I won't let our battle affect the rest of the Soul Society," Yamamoto ordered, the flames around him dancing more fervently.

Shunsui interrupted her gently. "Nanao-chan, sometimes it's best not to think too hard on these things, regardless of the reason, the old man is angry."

Nanao took a moment, processing his words. "I have never felt the captain commander this angry before."

Shunsui gazed at the horizon, where the barrier had been erected, the orange glow hinting at the inferno raging within. "Ha, I pity the soul who finds himself at the receiving end of the old man's wrath. His strength is unparalleled."

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[Adam C. POV.]

I'd barely caught my breath after dealing with Mayuri when a sensation surged through Seireitei, a force so overwhelming that it threatened to crush my very spirit. It felt as if the sun itself had descended upon this realm. My skin prickled and sweat formed almost instantly.

For the first time ever, I felt a spiritual pressure strong enough to make my knees shake under the pressure.

I looked down at my hand. Was it my imagination, or was the very air shimmering, like a mirage one might see in a desert? I didn't need to be told; despite this being the first time I had felt this, I knew this force, this unbearable heat, was coming from one being alone: Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto.

As the temperature continued to rise, it became a struggle to maintain my stance. The cobblestones beneath my feet felt as though they'd been baking inside a volcano. I removed my jacket, the material suddenly feeling oppressively heavy and hot.

"Fuck," I muttered, watching the old man arrive. The sight that greeted me was akin to watching a wrathful god descend from the heavens.

"Intruder," he intoned, his voice deep and echoing. "Your audacity in setting foot in Seireitei, and the harm you've inflicted upon my subordinates, leaves your life forsaken."

I swallowed hard, not out of fear but in an attempt to moisten my parched throat. "Fuck..."

This was not part of the plan, at all.

"Is there a way we can resolve this without fighting?" I asked.

He didn't respond. Instead, his eyes, those ancient, wise, yet unfathomably fierce eyes, bore into mine. They judged, weighed, and seemingly found wanting. And for a fleeting moment, I wondered if this was how the countless souls who'd faced him felt before their end.