Chapter 372: Satoru's Asura Vow
"Gloom of night, eternal darkness, come forth."
"Meet everyone..."
From the profound darkness, the Priest's figure seemed to gradually rise as if from a swamp.
From his mouth, ancient incantations slowly chanted.
As the voice echoed, viscous darkness continuously spread in all directions.
On Satoru's body, golden light shone brilliantly, like an unyielding star burning in the cold universe.
But as the dark incantations gradually completed, the area covered by his golden light was visibly shrinking.
"So that he may not be reborn again..."
"So that he may not become our sacrifice once more!"
"Futaritama Taisatsuryō!!"
In the darkness, the Priest clapped his hands together sharply.
The massive brush stood upright before him.
Behind him, an enormous black palace and endless black tombstones abruptly rose up!
Boundless darkness, like tidal waves, continuously crashed against the golden barrier around Satoru.
Though the Shield of Courage still shone, it was clearly at a disadvantage against this nearly infinite darkness.
In the distance, Ōetsu broke out in a cold sweat:
"That guy the Priest... actually used this move!"
"What technique is this?"
Kirinji Tenjirō hurriedly asked.
Although he was a veteran Zero Division member, he had never seen the Priest use this technique before.
During their usual sparring sessions, the Priest could easily handle him without even needing to use Shikai, let alone resort to such a move.
Senjumaru Shutara and Kirio Hikifune both turned their attention to Ōetsu as well.
Ōetsu took a deep breath:
"Futaritama Taisatsuryō is the Priest's strongest offensive technique."
"Within the range of Taisatsuryō, everything will be dyed black by Ichimonji's ability."
"Anything dyed black will instantly disintegrate and turn into nothingness!"
"So far, no one has ever survived this technique!"
Upon hearing this, the three of them showed expressions of shock.
In the darkness, the Priest grinned and looked at Satoru.
"Satoru, it's not too late to admit defeat now."
"This technique of mine... if it really gets on you, it won't be as simple as just breaking bones."
"After all, I have to admit that against an opponent of your level, I can't win without showing some real skill."
"Since we're fighting seriously now, it's hard to hold back."
Hearing this, Satoru curled up the corner of his mouth.
It's here.
The feeling is coming.
From the beginning of the battle until just now, this big monk had been fighting with a playful attitude.
But with the appearance of Futaritama Taisatsuryō, Satoru knew that for at least a moment, this guy had been pushed to his limits by him.
Looking at the Priest standing in the darkness, he grinned:
"Is this what you call serious?"
"Next, I'm going to make you even more serious."
Initially, he wanted to spar with the Priest and all members of the Zero Division just to collect data for mental simulations, preparing for future needs.
But as the battle intensified, he no longer cared about those things.
Now, he only wanted to do one thing.
That was... to defeat the man before him!
The darkness flowing from Ichimonji had already covered the entire sky.
The boundless blackness was like a bottomless sea.
The surging waves had already reached Satoru's front.
The next wave would break through the light of the Shield of Courage and completely swallow him!
At that moment, Satoru suddenly took a step forward.
Black shadows spread out and surged from beneath his feet.
Instantly, the shadows expanded from a single point into an endless black ocean!
Ichimonji's darkness and Satoru's shadows formed two black seas in the sky above.
The two seas simultaneously rolled, boiled, and crashed against each other, yet neither could advance even half a step further.
They had reached a stalemate!
Standing within the shadows, Satoru revealed a manic smile:
"Bankai!"
"Kairaku-ten: Satoru Mikami Paradise!!"
The Priest's eyes widened as he looked at the scene before him in disbelief.
What... is this?
Bankai?
What Bankai?
Satoru's Zanpakutō was clearly Risō Jakumetsu!
And Sayafushi... was an extremely special Zanpakutō that had no release ability at all.
What is this Bankai?
Why can't even his "True Name Call" ability see through its essence?
Looking at the thick shadows continuously surging toward him, the Priest felt a chill run down his spine.
In a million years, the only thing in this world he couldn't see through was the "Soul King" who symbolized the existence of the Three Realms.
And now, right before his eyes, another existence that he couldn't see through had appeared.
Could it be that Satoru had already...
While he was still reeling in shock, Satoru surged toward him with maniacal laughter, wreathed in a torrent of shadowy fury!
As he charged, two additional arms sprouted from his back.
The six-armed demon closed the distance between them in an instant, appearing before Hyōsube Ichibe'e.
The metal claws of Risō Jakumetsu and the blade of Sayafushi dissolved into particles of light.
Without relying on any weapons, Satoru unleashed only his six fists.
But only Hyōsube Ichibe'e, standing before him, understood the sheer terror contained within those six fists!
Each fist concentrated four layers of force.
And now that Satoru had finally unleashed the power of the world's shadow, no longer holding back, the strength of Shadow Strike merged with his very being.
This was an unprecedented miracle, an attack surpassing all limits—
Quintuple・Sōkotsu × 3!!!!!!
In that instant, the entire world seemed stripped of color.
Everything became a blinding, pure white, so radiant that nothing else could be seen.
Immediately after, all that remained in the world was absolute blackness.
Ōetsu, Kirinji, Senjumaru, and Kirio Hikifune stood in the darkness, wanting to speak, wanting to move, but found their bodies seemingly beyond their control.
In this darkness, the only thing they could do was think—so slowly it felt as if no progress was being made.
Suddenly, the darkness dissipated.
The world regained its colors.
All instinctively turned their gazes toward Satoru and Hyōsube Ichibe'e.
The earlier darkness had struck with such ferocity that they couldn't even discern whether it was the Priest's ink or Satoru's shadows.
Upon seeing the scene before them, everyone's faces contorted in shock.
In the distant sky, Satoru remained frozen in his six-armed striking posture.
However, all six arms were severed at the shoulders.
Blood gushed relentlessly from the stumps.
Faintly visible within the crimson flow were churning white bubbles.
It was the power of Hollowfication and Fullbring attempting regeneration.
Yet each time these forces tried to repair Satoru's arms, an invisible power would shatter them into nothingness.
Despite such grievous wounds, Satoru's expression remained utterly unchanged.
His golden pupils set in black sclera calmly observed what lay ahead.
There stood the Priest, gripping his massive brush like a fortress wall.
His bull-like eyes stared fixedly at Satoru.
The Priest opened his mouth as if to speak.
But blood came pouring out instead.
Under the disbelieving stares of the Zero Division members, they saw his torso - from chest to abdomen - completely pierced through.
One could see straight through to the sky behind him.
CRACK!!
The endless black palaces and tomb complexes behind him shattered into Reishi, vanishing into the air.
"P-Priest?!"
Kirinji Tenjirō exclaimed involuntarily.
Had this guy actually died?
The Priest ignored his comrade's cry.
Even with nearly half his body gone, he kept his burning gaze locked on Satoru.
"Satoru... this power, could it be...?"
Satoru slowly straightened from his forward-leaning attack stance.
The white mask on his face dissolved into Reiatsu.
The sea of shadows at his feet receded from all directions, leaving only his human-shaped shadow.
Meeting the Priest's gaze, he grinned:
"Seeing power beyond your comprehension is quite an experience, isn't it?"
The Priest stared blankly at Satoru's words.
Then his expression became profoundly complex.
He had always maintained a condescending attitude toward Satoru.
Though Satoru possessed formidable strength and progressed at an unimaginable rate, in the grand scheme of the Three Realms and the river of history, he was merely an insignificant ripple.
When discovering Satoru had mastered all four powers - Shinigami, Hollow, Quincy, and Fullbring - the Priest had been overjoyed.
The world's current stability depended on the sealed Soul King serving as the "linchpin."
As long as the Soul King remained imprisoned there, the world needed no concern for accidents.
The problem was, only he knew the Soul King wasn't truly stable.
Even after the Five Noble Clans' founders severed his limbs and hollowed his organs, the Soul King still "lived."
He maintained his own will, capable of communicating with the Royal Special Forces, even... with beings in Seireitei and Rukongai.
The Priest believed that if the Soul King willed it, even in his current half-dead state, he could break the seals, regain freedom, and crush this era!
Then everything would end.
Worse yet, even if the Soul King bore no thoughts of revenge, but simply grew weary of continuing his "linchpin" duties.
With such thoughts, the Soul King would likely choose self-destruction.
No matter what, the Three Realms would face their end.
It wasn't until Satoru appeared that he finally felt at ease.
After gathering the four powers of Shinigami, Hollow, Quincy, and Fullbring, Satoru obtained a unique constitution that no one else could possess.
He could replace the Soul King and become the linchpin of the world.
This was the reason he held Satoru in such high regard.
But now, the Priest suddenly felt pressure again.
The Satoru he had envisioned was someone who could never defeat him, no matter what.
If he wished, he could use force at any time to place him on the "Soul King" throne.
Yet now, after witnessing the abilities of the shadows beyond the world, the Priest began to doubt this.
Like the Soul King, Satoru, who wielded the fundamental power of the world—was he truly a tool to be manipulated at will?
Countless thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant.
He clenched the brush in his hand several times, then released it.
Finally, he shook his head gently.
The tip of the brush in his hand transformed from a sharp blade back into a soft bristle.
With a wave of his hand, he slung the brush over his back.
Then, he looked at Satoru:
"That was quite an enlightening battle... I admit defeat."
Satoru glanced at the brush on his back:
"What, not going to show me your Bankai?"
The Priest shook his head:
"My Bankai has no offensive power—it's purely a set of rules."
"For an existence like yours, I can't be certain whether these rules would even take effect."
"So... to preserve a bit of mystery, I'll show it to you another time, when the opportunity arises."
Hearing this, Satoru shook his head with a wry smile.
"Preserving mystery"—what a tactful way to put it.
In the end, he just wanted to keep a trump card.
Not that he had any room to criticize.
Initially, he had also intended to keep his Shadow Strike ability as a hidden card, not revealing it to the Priest.
But in the heat of battle, he forgot all about that.
Still, he had no regrets.
When it comes to battle, giving it your all and fighting to your heart's content is what a refined swordsman should do.
Ah... speaking of swords.
Satoru turned his head and looked into the distance.
Amid the ruins of the collapsed Omotesandō, a girl in a black dress stood quietly, her expression complex.
In her hand, she held Risō Jakumetsu, finally sparing it the fate of being tossed to the ground.
Seeing that both were unharmed, Satoru laughed heartily:
"Sayafushi, Risō Jakumetsu—we won!"
Sayafushi: "..."
Feeling the constant trembling of Risō Jakumetsu in her hand, she suddenly understood why the latter was always cursing at its master.
The members of the Zero Division gathered around.
The looks they gave Satoru were as if they were staring at some kind of monster.
The Priest, with his million-year lifespan, the leader of the Zero Division, the strongest in the Three Realms—had actually lost...
Even though the Priest hadn't used his Bankai and Satoru's arms were completely destroyed, it couldn't overshadow this unbelievable outcome.
Kirinji Tenjirō walked over to examine both of them.
First, the Priest.
He had been wondering all along—why had the Priest, who possessed the Ōken and an indestructible body, allowed his chest and abdomen to remain hollow and unrepaired? What was the point?
Only when he got closer did he realize that the Priest wasn't refusing to heal, but was unable to do so.
The golden skeleton forged from the Ōken continuously released divine power, attempting to repair the Priest's body.
Yet each time it tried to heal, the lingering energy from Satoru's punch would shatter it anew.
Kirinji Tenjirō refused to believe it. He reached out a finger, probing the hollow space in the Priest's chest and abdomen.
"Ugh!!"
He hastily retracted his finger.
The tip of his finger had already been mangled into a pulp!
What the hell...
Kirinji Tenjirō's eye twitched violently, feeling as frustrated as if he'd been bested by Komamura.
Monsters... truly two monsters!
The Priest was somewhat understandable—after all, he was an ancient being millions of years old, so his strength was to be expected.
But just what had Satoru been raised on?!
Looking at the injuries on both of them, he even began to doubt whether his Hell Hot Spring would have any effect.
Yet Satoru remained completely unfazed.
Despite having lost both arms, he grinned widely:
"A feast! Let's get the feast started!!"
The others were momentarily stunned by this man's demeanor.
Then, they exchanged glances and collectively wore expressions caught between laughter and exasperation...