Help! I am bound to Aizen!

Chapter 281

2-in-1 chapter:'

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Laughter rang out, bold and boisterous, as Kaelith shot toward Azashiro Kenpachi with righteous fervor.

“Ze-ha-ha-ha-ha!!”

Fiery jets blasted from Kaelith’s shoulders as he rocketed forward, smashing another fist at Azashiro. Azashiro didn’t even bother dodging; he knew it was pointless anyway. He took the blow head-on and exploded into flecks of reishi once again.

A second later, his figure reassembled a dozen meters away. He started manipulating the surrounding space to counter Kaelith, only to realize Kaelith was already there, lying in wait.

“ORA!!”

One more punch. Azashiro burst into fragments once more. Usually, none of these attacks would matter. As long as he could call back the reishi he’d spread everywhere, he could “resurrect” hundreds or thousands of times. If Kaelith had any skill, he’d simply have to keep striking forever—see who got tired first.

But…not here.

In the Muken, the Great Prison’s bottommost layer, Zanpakutō abilities were severely restricted. Azashiro had spent a century dispersing most of his own reishi outward so that he could monitor the Seireitei more widely. Summoning those pieces back now was far from easy. If he took too many more hits, he might not have enough reishi left to rebuild his body, dooming him to soul-dissolution—just as Kaelith threatened.

On the fourth time Kaelith smashed him apart, Azashiro realized this couldn’t continue. Instead of reforming, he caused his remains to drift off in the distance. The Muken was a peculiar space: no light, no sense of direction, even distance felt illusory. If he could just get far enough away, Kaelith couldn’t find him so easily. Kaelith couldn’t stay here long, not with the extreme security of this place. A little delay would force him to leave.

He allowed himself a slight relief. Then, without warning, he heard a heavy stomp from behind, followed by a towering downpour of spiritual pressure.

Boom!!!

It was like the sea pouring overhead, space twisting inside out. A deluge of reiatsu rattled the air so violently that the paper lantern lying on the ground was shredded in an instant.

Azashiro Kenpachi, horrified, turned his “viewpoint” around. He saw Kaelith, arms folded, standing proudly nearby. A column of blue spirit energy erupted from Kaelith’s body, piercing the void above before crashing like heavy rain in all directions. Feeling that mind-boggling power, every prisoner in the Muken—once fearsome criminals themselves—pricked up their ears, astonished.

When had the Soul Society gained such a monstrous presence?

Azashiro attempted to remain in his scattered reishi form, but under the brutal waves of Kaelith’s reiatsu, he lost control. Forced back into human shape, he tumbled across the ground. Gone was his calm, scholarly demeanor; he knelt there, gasping, staring at Kaelith in disbelief.

Did that man have any idea what he was doing? This was the Muken, the most secure level of the Great Spirit Prison. Entering at all was madness, and now letting loose his reiatsu as if he didn’t care—he had to be insane.

Or…

He was doing it on purpose.

He hadn’t come to stealthily break the rules—he was here to burn all bridges with the Soul Society and raise a flag of rebellion. The Muken was full of sinners, all once-famous, formidable forces. If Kaelith released them, the Soul Society would plunge into chaos. Not even Yamamoto could suppress so many threats quickly. With Kaelith’s terrifying power, who could stop him?

“Disaster…this is cataclysm,” Azashiro muttered. Grimly, he tried to speak up, to accuse Kaelith of imperiling the three worlds. But before he got a word out, a fist blotted out his vision.

BOOM!

Azashiro’s body shattered, not into reishi, but into shredded flesh. Agony knifed through him, and he nearly blacked out. The next moment, under the crush of Kaelith’s violent reiatsu, his body re-formed once more in human shape. Kaelith grabbed his head and slammed it into the ground.

It’s over, Azashiro thought. He’d come forward believing Kaelith might share his ambitions, so he hadn’t tried to conceal himself. What a grave mistake. If he’d stayed hidden, he might have had a chance to alert the outside.

Now no one would curb Kaelith’s deadly scheme.

He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for death. Kaelith sneered, “What’s the matter? Where’s all that talk now? So my teacher doesn’t deserve to be Captain-Commander, but you do? You worthless blowhard. Don’t clam up—talk!”

Smack! Fire seared Azashiro’s cheek, snapping his head aside. Startled, he opened his eyes to see Kaelith perched on top of him, grinning fiendishly. Azashiro Kenpachi frowned.

“You do all this…over that?”

Kaelith narrowed his gaze. “Azashiro Kenpachi—bah, I won’t call you that. You’re not worthy. What’s your real name?”

“Azashiro Shōya,” he replied firmly. “And whether you recognize it or not, Central 46 granted me the Kenpachi title.”

“So be it.” Kaelith didn’t bother arguing. Gripping Azashiro’s head, he let a surge of blue flames crawl over the man’s skin. The flame’s damage was carefully limited—just enough to induce raw, unbearable pain.

Azashiro Shōya gasped. Within that roaring blaze, Kaelith’s eyes gleamed coldly.

“Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto founded the Gotei 13, ended countless wars, and forged the Seireitei into what it is today. He smashed the Quincy King Yhwach’s invasion, safeguarded us from oblivion. He established the Shinigami Academy so commoners could rise in strength. He singlehandedly kept the noble houses in check and maintained peace in the Soul Society. He gave up marriage having his own children and even a seat in the Royal Palace—everything—to protect the realm.

He gave up on his family and freedom so we could have ours!

“And you ask what right he has to be Captain-Commander?” Kaelith’s lips twisted into a fierce grin. “Because he’s Yamamoto Shigekuni—a man unmatched in the Soul Society! For you to question him… you’re a thousand centuries too early!”

With that, Kaelith flung Azashiro aside. The blue flames licking at his body faded away. One more blow or another second in the fire, and Azashiro Shōya would have died. But Kaelith had different plans—he wanted this man alive to hand him over to Aizen for the riskiest of experiments. Someone who could break himself into reishi and merge with the environment would definitely pique Aizen’s curiosity.

With that thought, Kaelith’s mood brightened slightly. Azashiro lay there, staring at him with complex emotions. Kaelith stood tall, blazing with spirit energy that lit the Muken’s eternal night like a brilliant lamp.

Azashiro took a deep breath. “Kaelith Yurei… have you forgotten where we are?”

“…?”

Kaelith paused.

Azashiro pressed on, “This is the Muken. Your burst of reiatsu would’ve triggered thousands of alarms. I assumed you were initiating a rebellion and didn’t care about the consequences. But from that look, maybe you really did forget?”

Kaelith’s face stiffened. The intense flare of his spiritual power instantly subsided like a balloon losing air. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. Indeed, the Muken was one of the Soul Society’s most crucial sites—the apex of secure facilities, no less important than the Final Decree Barricade to NERV, Marineford to the Navy, or Division Nine Research for Kuka. There was no way intruders here wouldn’t face swift, decisive retribution. Even if Kaelith tried to slip out through a shadowy dimension, the leftover traces of his reiatsu couldn’t be erased. If discovered, he’d essentially be forced into conflict whether he wanted to or not.

As panic fluttered inside him, his instincts blared warnings. A colossal threat was closing in.

Azashiro sighed softly. “If you trust me, Kaelith, restore a fraction of my power. I can wipe away your tracks. Let me gather and condense these reishi remnants, fix the marks of battle. No one will know you were here.”

Kaelith glowered back at him, disliking that cocky tone. Folding his arms, he snapped, “Don’t need it!”

“Kaelith, this is not the time for petty pride. The clock—” Azashiro began, but broke off halfway, eyes widening with shock.

He sensed a peculiar energy ripple from Kaelith. It was the same unique vibration Azashiro relied on when merging his reiatsu with his surroundings. Sure enough, the earth scorched and overturned by their fight began mending itself, all the cracks and craters reverting as if never disturbed. Meanwhile, the scattered particles of Kaelith’s reiatsu were pulled back into his body, vanishing from the air.

When it finished, Kaelith smirked at Azashiro. “See? I managed just fine without you.”

“This can’t be…that’s my…” Azashiro stared, mind reeling. Being merged with all matter was his Bankai’s unique property—utterly one of a kind. Yet Kaelith had replicated it somehow. Did Kaelith have a power to copy Zanpakutō abilities?

Before Azashiro could think it through, Kaelith stepped forward and booted him into a swirl of shadow, then followed in after him. In an instant, they were gone. Darkness returned to the Muken.

Not long after, a lone figure stepped into the prison: Yamamoto Genryūsai, eyes narrowed as he scanned his surroundings. Though the Muken was pitch-black, it hardly hindered his sight. Moments earlier, he had received an urgent distress signal: a powerful reiatsu, ranking around First or Second Class, had been detected in the deepest sector of the Great Spirit Prison, the Muken. Concerned, he immediately hurried over. Normally, even the Captain-Commander needed formal approval from the Central 46 to descend here, but an emergency brooked no delay.

Yamamoto’s keen gaze took in everything, expecting to find chaos and destruction. Instead, the Muken appeared undisturbed—no damage, no alien reiatsu. Yet something was amiss. Frowning, he focused. As Captain-Commander, he knew exactly how many souls were imprisoned here and who they were. He had ways of perceiving them even in this warped space.

Two of them were simply gone:

Takagawa Shennō, ex–Third Division Captain.

Azashiro Shōya, ex–Eleventh Division Captain.

Yamamoto’s heart sank. He remembered them vividly; they were no trivial criminals. Especially Azashiro: his abilities and convictions could unleash catastrophic chaos if he escaped.

The old man inhaled deeply, turning sharply to the prison guards who came rushing to stop him.

“Find Kaelith Yurei and Kyōraku Shunsui. Bring them here immediately.”

Startled, the guards glanced among themselves. They had rushed over to block the Captain-Commander’s unauthorized entry, yet here he was issuing orders instead. They tried to protest, but Yamamoto growled,

“Go!”

“Y-yes, sir!”

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