She escaped!
Feeling the violent spiritual pressure fluctuations fading behind her, Halibel finally let out a sigh of relief.
She didn't know why that Vasto Lorde had been chasing her, nor where those Shinigami had come from—but for now, she could relax a little.
Honestly, she had been incredibly lucky.
Not only had she avoided having a piece of her mask devoured by a powerful Vasto Lorde, but she hadn't even suffered any serious injuries.
In Hueco Mundo, survivors like her were rare.
But just as she was about to continue tunneling through the dunes, trying to flee the area—
"Hey."
A voice, playful yet laced with malice, rang out above her.
Halibel's heart lurched.
Instinctively, she tried to dive deeper into the sand.
But before she could move—
CRACK!
Her dorsal fin was seized by an overwhelming force.
The next moment, her massive three-meter-long body was yanked out of the ground and hurled into the air, sending sand spiraling like a whirlpool.
Damn it.
Halibel's entire body tensed.
Fujitou Burabushi smirked up at her, her tongue flicking out lazily.
"You didn't think you could just use us and run, did you?"
The moment the words left her lips—
SHING!
Her Zanpakutō left its sheath, tracing a pale crescent in the air.
"Burning Torrent!"
Halibel unleashed her full power, spiritual pressure erupting from her body as a crushing tidal wave surged forth.
Yet, to Burabushi, it was nothing.
Her blade, saturated with dense spiritual pressure, split the water apart, carving a bloody gash across Halibel's torso before slamming her into the ground.
BOOM!
Halibel's eyes widened in shock.
This… isn't even a fight.
Burabushi stood atop the dry dune, watching the water drain away.
She raised her blade, her childish tongue slowly licking the blood off the steel, her expression one of pure delight.
"Ahh… the taste of blood. It's been so long."
Perhaps because she had lost repeatedly to Yachiru Unohana, some—including Fujii Makoto and even a few captains—had doubted Burabushi's strength.
But facts were facts.
Fujitou Burabushi. Second-Class Spiritual Pressure.
For an ordinary Adjuchas to survive even one strike from her was already impressive.
After all, not just anyone could "lose repeatedly" to Yachiru Unohana.
"You… what are you…?"
Halibel stared up at the twin-tailed girl, her eyes filled with dread—even fear.
"Tch."
Burabushi pouted, unimpressed.
"Cutting weaklings like you is just boring."
With a flick of her finger—
"Bakudō #63: Sajō Sabaku!"
Thick, serpentine chains shot from her fingertips, binding Halibel effortlessly before coiling back into Burabushi's grasp.
Halibel nearly spat blood.
Out of the frying pan, into the fire.
What kind of luck is this?!
Burabushi, however, paid no mind. She dragged Halibel over and unceremoniously slammed her next to Makoto's shabby sword, which immediately cheered:
[Burabushi-chan! Hooray!]
"Ah."
Burabushi blinked, then smirked.
"So it was you making wishes, huh?"
She glanced back at Makoto, who was still locked in fierce combat, and rubbed her chin—as if she'd stumbled upon some hidden truth.
[Ufufu~ Guhehe—!]
As the sword happily snuggled up to the mermaid, Makoto was steadily being overpowered.
Blades clashed, air shrieking as the Vasto Lorde's strikes carved through space.
Makoto dodged frantically, veins bulging in his eyes as he tracked every movement at near-limit speed.
[Bond Trait: No-Hit Zone]
[Bond Trait: Inch Stop]
In his perception, time seemed to slow—yet Dragon Azrael's strikes were still blindingly fast.
If not for Makoto's near-perfect physical control, he would've been bisected instantly—just like how Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi had met his end against the "hero."
But it was precisely this life-or-death struggle that kept Makoto at his peak.
Mind, body, spirit—all pushed to the limit!
"Not enough! Not enough! NOT ENOUGH!"
Despite the overwhelming pressure, Makoto's grin only widened, faint steam rising from his skin.
Then—
BOOM!
Twin blade-arms slashed down simultaneously.
The impact was deafening.
Yet—
They stopped just above Makoto's shoulders.
"What?!"
Dragon Azrael's eyes widened.
His wrists were locked in Makoto's grip, the killing blow halted mid-air.
But—
How?!
Makoto's bloodshot eyes locked onto his, his smile turning feral.
If Kotsu was the art of imbuing one's fists with will…
Then what if he extended that will to his entire body?
"SHUN!"
Makoto's figure seemed to blur for an instant, leaving behind an afterimage.
The next moment—
BOOOOM!
An explosive force erupted in Dragon Azrael's gut, sending him hurtling across the dunes like a cannonball.
[Secret Technique: Bone-Breaking Body]
[Real men fight other real men—YEAH!]
[Hakuda +10]
[Hakuda Bottleneck - Stage Three]
[Life-or-Death Battle - Hakuda Breakthrough ↑]
[Hakuda: 10th Tier ↑]
As the dust settled, Makoto stood in a Bajiquan elbow stance, slowly exhaling.
His entire body burned with exertion—his willpower draining at an alarming rate.
But thanks to [Wall of Sighs], it instantly refilled to maximum.
The sheer rush of exhaustion and renewal was intoxicating.
"This…"
"Feels amazing."
Blood trickled from Makoto's nose and eyes.
No wonder Old Man Yamamoto never developed this technique.
But he didn't have time to dwell on it.
"Impressive talent."
Dragon Azrael rose from the sand, his chestplate cracked but his spiritual pressure undiminished.
"But how long can you maintain this state?"
The gap in their spiritual pressure was absolute.
No matter how many tricks Makoto used, that fact wouldn't change.
Both of them knew it.
Yet—
Makoto glanced at his status screen and suddenly smiled.
"Yeah, you're right."
"Huh?"
Dragon Azrael expected despair—but instead, the Shinigami dropped his enhanced state.
Makoto casually waved toward the dunes behind him.
"Oi, Burabushi!"
"Tag out!"
For a moment, Dragon Azrael froze.
Then—
Wait.
You mean… you're not even the strongest one here?!
In this era, Hueco Mundo's knowledge of the Soul Society—of nobles, the original Gotei, the Thirteen Court Guard Squads—was pitifully shallow.