Chapter 304:

Name:Fairy Tail: Shinigami Author:
Chapter 304:

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[The Soul Palace.]

[Third Person. POV.]

Ichibe Hyosube, the monk who calls the real name, leaned heavily against the cold, wall of the Soul King Palace. His once-immaculate robes were torn and stained with blood, his blood, a vivid testament to the ferocity of the battle that had just transpired. Around him, scattered across the marble floor, lay the defeated forms of his fellow Royal Guard members. Each of them, once symbols of unmatched strength and resilience, now lay motionless, their efforts to halt the unstoppable force of the Soul King proving futile.

They knew that the moment the Soul King had become their enemy, defeat had become an unavoidable fact, but to think despite working together they weren't even able to hurt their foe, it was disheartening, to say the least.

Around the room, the air was thick with the scent of blood, and destruction, the silence in the aftermath of the one sided battle, almost deafening. Ichibe's breaths came in labored gasps, his body wracked with pain from wounds that would have felled any lesser being. His eyes, usually so sharp and perceptive, now bore a haunted look, reflecting on what would happen now.

Ichibe had never considered himself a good person, on the contrary, after all, he was known as the Most Evil Shinigami for a reason, but despite this... there were certain things he wanted to preserve, and now... these things he had sought to preserve, for his own motives or not, were beyond his reach to protect.

"Why... after all this years," Ichibe leaned against a wall, his body trembling with exhaustion. Blood dripped from his torn sleeve and pooled on the ground, adding to the growing stain on his chest. As he reflected on his battle with the Soul King, a battle that had lasted all but one minute... taking his right arm, and a big portion of his torso.

But, if everything was crumbling down... why not give it a shot? It's not like he had anything else to lose, he was dying, and so was this universe.

Coughing up some blood, Ichibe moved with purpose, his steps echoing softly on the stone floor as he walked past the Soul King, reaching the vault a few meters away from the motionless God that continued to gaze at the world below, weakly the monk stood before the vault's massive door, moving his hand to the lock. The lock in question, was a complex mechanism that required not a key but the spiritual pressure of a member of the Royal Guard.

Soon enough, the door groaned open, revealing the sanctum that housed the relics and artifacts of immense power, accumulated over millennia. Most of them, items that Ichibe and the rest of the Zero Squad had deemed far too dangerous, at least for the order he sought to preserve.

None of that mattered now, though.

The air inside the vault was thick with the weight of history. Each item within had its own story, its own legacy, its own use, but none of them were nearly as powerful as the one Ichibe was looking: Ikomikidomoe.

A blade, holding the strongest hollow to have ever existed, one so strong, that without Ichimonji at his side, Ichibe would've lost. Even now, after all this time, the beast was just as strong as the day the monk had sealed it away.

But strength matter very little in the face of the Soul King, he was a true transcendent being, one that was beyond such things, like strength.

Coughing some more, Ichibe reached out, his hand trembling slightly, not from fear, but from the injures on his body. As his fingers wrapped around the hilt, a jolt of hostile energy coursed through him, a connection forming between him and the ancient hollow that was Ikomikidomoe, a threat.

Ichibe chuckled, he supposed Ikomikidomoe was well within his right to hate him. After all, it was the monk who had defeated him, sealed him, and taken away his real name. But as amusing as Ikomikidomoe's hatred was for the old monk, time was running out.

Sure, he had no hopes whatsoever the sons of the King would be able to stop their father. But again... why not?

If there was nothing else to do, and nothing you can do, you might as well try everything, and see how the pieces fall. It's not like it will affect the outcome anyhow.