Chapter 222: Burning Hell.

Chapter 222: Burning Hell.

If you want to read ahead go to /cornbringer

Discord Server: https://discord.gg/3dAF3qMPThe initial posting of this chapter occurred via N0v3l.B11n.

Todays deal is simple, more stones: more chapters.

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[Adam C. POV.]

The moment Yamamoto arrived; the atmosphere morphed from stifling heat to an all-encompassing blaze that made it hard to breathe. It was like standing on the surface of the sun. The source of this incredible heat soon materialized — a figure robed in traditional garb, his eyes not just stern but carrying centuries of judgment and authority.

"You stand as a traitor to the Soul Society. Your life is forsaken," Yamamoto announced, flames erupting all around him.

Was he for real? A traitor? Because I decided I won't be someone's lab rat?

I really didn't want to fight him.

I really didn't.

But it didn't seem like I had much of a choice.

I drew my blade, flaring my reiatsu in kind. "Judge all things in this universe, Zanryuzuki!"

For a brief moment, his eyes narrowed, as if he was genuinely disappointed that I chose to fight, almost as if he thought I should simply accept my execution. Then without warning, he swung his sword, "Reduce All Creation to Ash, Ryujin Jakka!" releasing a massive inferno that moved towards me like a tidal wave of pure, scorching fire.

I quickly moved my blade. The area around me distorted, as the searing flames that were a breath away suddenly seemed to slow, trapped within the grasp of my Zanpakuto, allowing me the barest of moments to think.

"Orbit," I whispered. With these words, a ripple of translucent energy emanated from Zanryuzuki, creating a sort of bubble around me. Inside this bubble, space was my dominion.

The flames of Ryujin Jakka, scorching and lethal, were kept at bay, inching forward by the second but unable to breach the barrier. Outside of this bubble, I could see the world in a different light, a slower, more malleable version of reality.

With a grunt of effort, due to Yamamoto's massive reiatsu pressing back against mine, I expanded the bubble, creating a larger sphere of manipulated space around us. Now, within this small limited area, I had the advantage. I could move faster, think clearer, and hopefully, tip the scales in my favor.

Yamamoto looked momentarily surprised but quickly caught on. He observed the distorted space curiously, seemingly impressed. "An impressive ability, controlling the fabric of space itself. I wonder how it will fare against the oldest and most powerful zanpakuto?"

Instead of replying, I lunged at him. Within this domain, my movements were enhanced. That being said, it became clear that Yamamoto was no novice by any means. He not only immediately adapted to the altered reality I had created, but he also parried my strikes with the practiced ease of a warrior with centuries of experience.

It had taken him less than a second to adapt. And even less to read the intentions behind my attacks.

The world seemed to blur and reshape as the two of us moved, our movements fast and clear. The echoes of clashing blades shaking the soul society, forming a deadly symphony of steel, fire, and space. Each strike, parry, and counter felt like a death sentence, a dance between two warriors, one fueled by duty and the other by desperation.

I leaned into Zanryuzuki's abilities, bending the space between our strikes, trying to find an edge, a momentary lapse in Yamamoto's otherwise impeccable defense. With each clash, I would warp the trajectory, making my blade appear in places the old Captain wouldn't expect.

But Yamamoto was terrifyingly adaptive. His flames curled around him, reacting to each distorted strike, trying to find a way through my spatial manipulations. The flames of his blade as he had shown thus far, weren't just for offense; they served as his shield, an extension of his will, anticipating my strikes and countering them before they could land.

My vision started to blur again, Mayuri's poison manifesting its influence. Every swift movement, every spatial warp, made my head spin. But I refused to let that be my end. I recalled my training, focused on my breathing, and channeled my reiatsu to try and hold off the poison's effects, even if just for a few moments longer.

I was having the time of my life.

Finally an opponent that I could go all out with!

Finally someone I could aim to surpass!

Acnologia had been a necessity to deal with, not a true rival, but him? He was everything I could've asked in a fight and more!

Drawing from the depths of my soul, I unleashed a barrage of strikes, each one coupled with a spatial tear, making it appear as though multiple versions of myself were attacking from all angles. It was a feint within a feint, and my last attempt to land a decisive blow.

For a moment, it seemed to work. Yamamoto was pushed back, his body receiving multiple cuts as the fierce onslaught caused him to momentarily focus entirely on defense. Alas, this was a fleeting victory. With a faint smile, the old Captain unleashed a wave of flames so intense that it seemed to consume everything, the air, the earth, the space, and everything in between.

The world became a living furnace. A hell.

Even with my spatial manipulation, there was no escaping the sheer intensity of this attack. The heat was suffocating, and the brightness of the flames blinded me. But amidst this inferno that made my skin sizzled, a thought surfaced. If I couldn't dodge it or block it, perhaps I could redirect it.

Drawing upon Zanryuzuki's powers once more, I attempted to warp the space around the flames, this time in a different manner creating a vortex that would send them spiraling away, creating a current for his attack instead of a wall he could burn. The effort was immense, each twist of space drawing heavily upon my already waning strength.

For a split second, it seemed to work. The flames twisted and contorted, spiraling into the vortex I'd created. But then, with a deafening roar, they exploded outward, breaking free from my control. The force of the blast sent me hurtling through the air, crashing into the ruins of a nearby building.

Coughing up more blood, the weight of the poison and the exhaustion from the fight weighed heavily on me. Yamamoto slowly approached, his blade still wreathed in flames, his eyes reflecting both admiration and sorrow.

"You have fought valiantly," he said, his voice filled with a deep, graveled respect. "But this is where your rebellion ends."

I chuckled weakly, my skin melting away layer by layer. The smell of burning flesh filled my nostrils as my charred remains descended into ashes, never again to be found, leaving behind a blackened, charred shell.

Now this was pain, not what Mayuri had done.

I had even lost an arm.

I chuckled again, dropping to my knees as the last of my strength left me. "That was fun, but painful," I gasped, my voice barely above a whisper.