Chapter 177 – Slaughter
Luck was not on the side of the escaped prisoners. As they emerged from the underground prison, they were met by Ailin, who had arrived at the scene.
With a flash of golden light and a resounding boom, Ailin blasted a massive crater into the ground before them, momentarily halting their escape.
"This area is off-limits," Ailin declared. Dozens of golden spatial distortions shimmered behind him, each revealing the tip of a Zanpakutō.
Perhaps some of these prisoners had been unjustly incarcerated due to the whims of the nobles. However, their plight held no sway over Ailin.
Under normal circumstances, their recapture would be the responsibility of the Second and Tenth Divisions. But this situation was different.
Baishin had attacked the Eleventh Division and learned of Sōya Azashiro’s imprisonment from its members. These prisoners had escaped due to Baishin's actions, and the Eleventh Division would bear the brunt of the blame.
Ailin could not allow them to escape.
"Return to the underground prison now, and I will pretend I never saw you," Ailin warned. "But take one step further, and I will attack without hesitation. Consider yourselves warned."
A portion of the prisoners exchanged hesitant glances, their bravado fading.
Those incarcerated within the past millennium recognized the significance of Ailin’s haori – the symbol of a captain, one of the thirteen strongest Shinigami within the Gotei 13.
Their Zanpakutō had been confiscated upon imprisonment, leaving them with a fraction of their former strength.
They were no match for a captain of the Gotei 13.
However, the prisoners incarcerated for over a millennium remained oblivious to Ailin's status and the implications of his attire.
After enduring centuries of confinement, the taste of freedom was too intoxicating to resist.
Would they gamble on a chance at liberation or resign themselves to a life of imprisonment until death?
The choice was clear for some.
Ignoring Ailin’s warning, a dozen prisoners surged forward, attempting to escape.
"Fools," Ailin muttered, his eyes cold and unforgiving.
As they crossed the crater, golden streaks of lightning erupted from the spatial distortions behind Ailin, striking the fleeing figures with unerring accuracy.
A series of deafening explosions followed, leaving behind a gruesome tableau of mangled corpses.
The remaining prisoners stared in horror at the remains of their comrades.
"Why do you force my hand?" Ailin questioned, his voice laced with disappointment. "Must I resort to such brutality to make you understand the harshness of reality?"
He shook his head and continued, "I offer you two choices.
To make matters worse, the sight of so many escaping prisoners had emboldened those who remained behind, and they now surged towards the exit, creating a bottleneck at the entrance.
"Move aside! I’m going back in!"
"Out of my way!"
Driven by the fear of death, the returning prisoners shoved and pushed their way through the crowd, desperate to re-enter the prison.
A moment later...
A massive explosion rocked the area, sending shockwaves that flung the remaining prisoners outward. Another wave of golden lightning followed.
"Run! He's insane..."
Those who had managed to re-enter the prison fled deeper into its depths, seeking refuge within their cells. Even some of those who had initially planned to escape followed suit, the sight of the carnage outside too terrifying to ignore.
A few prisoners who had emerged from the prison cautiously peeked outside. Witnessing the countless corpses and the sky filled with golden spatial distortions, they silently retreated back into the darkness.
They understood that stepping outside meant certain death.
After several more volleys of golden lightning, no living prisoners remained before Ailin.
He slowly dispelled the spatial distortions, and the Zanpakutō embedded in the ground dissolved into blue particles, returning to their realm within Unlimited Blade Works.
Ailin entered the underground prison and erected a barrier at the entrance before venturing deeper into its depths.
Along the way, he encountered a few more prisoners attempting to escape. With a flick of his wrist, a golden ripple would appear behind them, ending their lives.
The deaths of his division members had ignited a murderous rage within Ailin. He showed no mercy to those who dared defy him.
The prisoners within their cells witnessed the occasional flash of golden light in the darkness, each signifying another death.
Gradually, the intervals between the flashes grew longer, until they ceased altogether.
The prisoners knew that this didn't mean the killer had left. It simply meant that no one dared to venture out and face his wrath.
His ruthlessness reminded some of the older prisoners of a Shinigami from a millennium ago, a man who had carved a path of destruction from the Seireitei to the Rukongai, challenging and slaying every renowned swordsman he encountered.
The current killer's bloodlust was eerily similar to that of the legendary swordsman.
And then, a chilling realization dawned upon them.
The white haori worn by the swordsman from a millennium ago... it was identical to the one worn by the man who had just slaughtered their fellow prisoners.
Both bore the number "eleven" on their backs.
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