"Hao Fire—Dragon-Flame Hymn!!!"
A finisher unleashed.
Black flames ignited.
The moment Bai Chen gathered his spiritual power and swung Hao Fire Fan—
under the captains' stunned gazes—
those extremely compressed, ominous black flames erupted violently.
In a single instant, they surged upward—
forming a dragon-shaped inferno over a hundred meters tall!
The scale and spectacle were so overwhelming that the light itself dimmed.
And across Seireitei—
in every corner, without exception—
a suffocating sense of danger and dread descended.
The entire crowd gasped.
"So terrifying!!"
"He's perfectly fused flames with spiritual pressure…"
"Condensing it into a soaring dragon of fire…"
"What kind of control and power is this…?!"
For that moment—
time felt like it froze permanently.
As those massive flame-dragons roared and coiled—
bursting out of the wildfire that blanketed the forest plain—
everyone who lifted their eyes, from captains to seated officers,
showed the same thing in their gaze:
awe.
Even those who weren't on-site—
watching from far away—
felt their souls tremble with fear.
"Yare yare…" Kyōraku muttered, pulling his straw hat lower, unable to hide his shock.
"Bai Chen-kun… you're getting more outrageous by the day."
"Dragon-Flame Hymn… the name's absurdly cool, and the power matches it."
"That's unquestionably a Bankai-level trump card!"
Ukitake—Bai Chen's direct superior—stood beside him.
His usually pale face, lit by the black flames, looked eerie and ill-omened.
His body trembled as he spoke.
"Kyōraku… when I saw those dragon flames…"
"The first thing that came to mind…"
"was a legendary Kidō of similar scale and destruction…"
"Hadō #99—Goryūtenmetsu."
Hadō #99.
The words spread through Sōkyoku Hill like a ripple.
And the captains' shock deepened again.
"The strongest of the Hadō…"
"Goryūtenmetsu…"
"According to the old accounts, once it's cast…"
"the battlefield looks exactly like this…"
"The only difference is—Bai Chen's version carries a fire attribute!"
The veteran captains knew what that meant.
Even now—
among all captains—
those who truly mastered any Hadō above the 90s were extremely rare.
And Hadō #99 was practically a myth.
Yet Bai Chen, through his zanpakutō—
with absurd fire control—
had essentially manifested a fire-version of that legend,
right in front of the Captain-Commander.
It was beyond praise.
It was simply… unbelievable.
"Fufufu…" Gin slid closer to Aizen, lowering his voice deliberately.
"Aizen-taichō…"
"If I had to guess…"
"your feelings right now are probably more complicated than anyone else's, huh?"
He angled his eyes, clearly hoping to catch a crack—
some sign of Aizen's composure collapsing.
But Aizen didn't give him that satisfaction.
His smile remained gentle.
Yet behind his glasses—
his eyes were cold, like winter snow.
"You really think my mental endurance…"
"is that fragile?"
Then, with a rare note of acknowledgment, he added quietly:
"…Still."
"I have to admit it."
"The strength of Hao Fire Fan has far exceeded my expectations."
"That newly born fire-type zanpakutō…"
"its ceiling…"
"may truly be able to stand alongside Ryūjin Jakka."
The nearby captains couldn't hear that.
They didn't realize what it meant—
the hidden final villain personally validating Bai Chen.
And the irony was cruel:
Goryūtenmetsu—the "legendary" discussion topic—
was, for Aizen at his peak, a true ultimate move he only barely controlled.
Yet for Bai Chen—
this was still just Shikai, used like a "normal" technique.
The contrast alone shook even Aizen's inner world.
Meanwhile, on the battlefield—
the spectators weren't the only ones stunned.
Even Yamamoto's inner mind shifted.
"A fire assault comparable to Hadō #99…"
His face didn't change much.
But his pressure…
dipped slightly.
Not weakened—
rather, recognized.
A moment of honest evaluation—
and a trace of wariness.
"Absorbing flames…"
"Reshaping flames…"
"Control pushed close to the extreme…"
Yamamoto spoke, listing the abilities Bai Chen had just displayed.
With the dragons spiraling in the sky—
Bai Chen's momentum was no longer suppressed.
For the first time in the duel,
he stood in true opposition—
able to face Yamamoto and Ryūjin Jakka head-on.
Heat surged.
Black hair snapped in the wind.
Bai Chen's eyes were steady, confident.
"My Hao Fire Fan…"
"is a zanpakutō that gets stronger the stronger the opponent is."
"And thanks to the pressure you gave me just now…"
"I can wield this flame-fan more freely than ever."
He wasn't bluffing.
Hao Fire Fan was already terrifying—
capable of unleashing an entire arsenal of Uchiha flame techniques.
And Ryūjin Jakka's released wildfire—
was like pouring oil onto Bai Chen's fire.
It boosted him explosively.
That was why Bai Chen spoke with genuine gratitude—
because he was enjoying this "strongest fire" clash.
"I see…" Yamamoto said.
"But you should also know this."
"No matter the blade."
"No matter the element."
"There is still… hierarchy."
His eyes ignited again.
He raised Ryūjin Jakka.
"The fact remains—Ryūjin Jakka…"
"is the undisputed strongest fire-type zanpakutō."
His spiritual pressure exploded.
BOOOOM—!!!
A vast pressure wave rose like a tangible crimson firestorm.
His captain's haori whipped violently.
Even the exposed rock began to soften—melt—warp.
And the flames around him, which had been scattered—
rushed inward at his command,
wrapping the blade in an instant.
Ryūjin Jakka's sword-edge swelled—
becoming a massive, palm-like slab of flame,
radiating a temperature that felt like thousands of degrees.
The crowd erupted again.
"It's coming!!!"
"The Captain-Commander's counterattack!"
"He got pushed back for a moment—but he's Yamamoto!"
"The strongest Shinigami in a thousand years!"
"Those dragon flames…"
"will be cut down and erased by Ryūjin Jakka's flame-cleaving strike!!!"
As Yamamoto's pressure climbed to its peak—
Seireitei held its breath.
Nobles.
Six thousand seated officers.
Captains.
Everyone.
Instinct screamed the same warning:
the real 'big one' is here.
"Bai Chen…"
"Remember this."
"No one…"
"Not even a junior I personally acknowledge…"
"should ever allow themselves to dream of standing shoulder-to-shoulder with me."
He raised his blade—
and swung.
Ryūjin Jakka cut horizontally through the air.
In that instant—
red flames poured out along the blade's path.
They rose violently, spiraling upward—
and in the sky formed a tornado-shaped, flame-cleaving slash.
BOOOOM—!!!
The entire northern Seireitei thundered.
Clouds shattered.
The sky itself was dyed crimson.
And as Yamamoto's voice rang like the horn of the apocalypse—
that tornado of flame carried world-ending force—
and smashed head-on into the black dragon flames.
The collision detonated everything.
A super-wide explosion—
so vast it nearly threatened a third of Seireitei—
a catastrophic blast beyond language.
The light stabbed into everyone's eyes—
stealing vision in an instant.
And in that blinding flash—
it declared the truth:
Ryūjin Jakka—Tornado.
This battle's climax—
the moment the winner would be decided—
had arrived.
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