BLEACH Chapter 136-137: The Highs of Power (Patreon)

The imposing throne of Las Noches stood vacant, yet Loly Aivirrne found solace without sitting upon it. The man who had overtaken her throne was a domineeringly powerful and wise ruler, so intoxicating that she would willingly lay down her life for him. He'd be a flawless master, if it weren't for his one glaring shortcoming — his prolonged absences that stretched over months.

The monumental doors to the throne room swung open, and a group of people sauntered in. Spearheading this trio was a man with dark skin and dark purple braids cascading down his shoulders. Despite wearing clear goggles, he kept his eyes closed. His identity would be glaringly obvious to any member of the Gotei 13 — he was none other than Kaname Tosen, the esteemed Captain of their 9th Squad.

Trailing respectfully behind Tosen were Menoly and an imposing giant with tanned skin clad in standardized white uniform issued to the Arrancar subservient to Aizen. Four menacing ridges etched onto his bald skull, and a black ponytail hung low from the back of his head. What remains of his Hollow mask was the jawbone resting on his chin.

Yammy Llargo, #10 Espada, observed Loly with a fury in his eyes. “Why do we tolerate her in our ranks?”

The fact that Loly, whom he considered weak, held a higher rank bothered him a great deal. He would have killed Loly if not for Tosen’s prior warning to maintain order.

Menoly took a step away from Yammy’s bursting Reiatsu and looked at Loly, who hardly resembled the sadistic woman who constantly abused and harassed her for no reason. “Wow…”

“Tosen, I’m asking you.”

“Her loyalty serves us well,” Tosen responded cryptically. While Aizen brewed chaos within the Soul Society and the Living World, it fell upon someone to keep the roiling sea of Hollows in check. Loly served as an ideal puppet to fulfill those responsibilities.

Yammy scoffed disdainfully. “That’s not loyalty; that’s pure lust.”

“Nobody said Hollows aren’t allowed—what was that?!”

An earth-shattering surge of Reiatsu could be felt in the distance — this Reiatsu at the very least belonged to a Vasto Lorde, whom Aizen wanted in his ranks. Even Loly snapped out of her dream and began looking in the direction of the new Reiatsu.

A cruel smirk unfurled across Yammy's lips. “Tosen, do you mind if I beat this one to submission?”

Tosen spun on his heels and moved past Yammy. “Stay in Las Noches. I’ll see to this Vasto Lorde.”

In the current process, Tosen’s job was to identify and survey Espada candidates. Aizen retained the exclusive responsibility of recruiting. Such was the gravity with which Aizen approached the assembly of his Hollow legion. Tosen had no reason to doubt that, given Aizen’s oozing charisma and his unrivaled ability to read others, nobody could perform this task with greater finesse.

Gritting his teeth, Yammy felt a seething fury blaze through his eyes. The temptation to strike Tosen’s open back was almost overwhelming, yet the lingering memory of having his face trampled underfoot by Tosen held him back. Even his Release form was no match for Tosen’s prowess. An assault on Tosen would be an invite for a thrashing.

“Heh, go on. Attack the Shinigami,” whispered Loly as she patted Yammy’s back. “You know you want to.”

“Bitch, I’m not a masochist,” Yammy growled and grabbed her collar, throwing her into the wall. “Know your place, weakling.”

With a final sneer of disdain aimed at Loly, Yammy lumbered out of the throne room, his exit as imposing as his presence.

Menoly glanced at Loly, who remained kneeling on the floor. Helping Loly would get her in trouble and not assisting Loly would yield the same result. After a moment of hesitation, she darted forward to assist Loly to her feet, only to have her offered hand contemptuously slapped away.

"What's that expression for?" In a cruel gesture, Loly seized a fistful of Menoly’s hair and ruthlessly slammed her head against the wall. “You think I’m pathetic. You think I’m not even worth admiring Master Aizen. Isn’t that what you say to Master Aizen?”

"I—I didn't say that," Menoly stammered, her voice tinged with fear. “There is some misunderstanding, Loly.”

“I'm lying,” Loly gritted her teeth and slammed Menoly’s head into the wall. “Is that what you’re trying to imply?”

Frantically, Menoly shook her head, her eyes widening in sheer terror. Loly was bursting with anger; any word from Menoly would be twisted and used as a weapon against her.

Getting no verbal response, Loly yanked Menoly forward and thrust her back against the wall. A series of slaps crashed against Menoly’s face, which she had learned to endure in silence. The absence of her screams dulled the edge of Loly's sadistic enjoyment, which in a twisted way mitigated the brutality of her punishment.

However, today was different. A tempest of kicks and punches descended upon Menoly's quivering form, wrenching guttural groans of pain from her. Still, Loly wasn’t satisfied.  She hurled Menoly to the floor and proceeded to deliver a barrage of kicks to her abdomen.

“Spineless wretch, say something, won’t you?”

“Stop…” Menoly croaked. “Please… I’m sorry, Loly… I beg you.”

With an irritated click of her tongue, Loly snarled, “Fine. Don’t ever let me see you around Master Aizen again or I’ll make this session feel ‘painless’ in comparison.”

Storming out of the room, Loly left Menoly to curl into a fetal position on the cold floor. Since seizing power and falling for Aizen, Loly’s tyranny had escalated, and today had been an unnerving escalation. Menoly understood that Loly’s brutality today wasn’t just for pure fun; it was an outlet for her pent-up frustrations, a method to assert some domination and control after Yammy had humiliated her.

Yet, shackled by her circumstances and the haunting walls of Las Noches, all Menoly could do was suffer in silence — she had nowhere else to go.

…

Meanwhile, deep in the Forest of Menos.

Muramasa pivoted slowly, his eyes sharpening as they met Nelliel’s. With a languid grace, he tucked his hands into his pockets and hunched slightly, scrutinizing the female Hollow. Nelliel emanated a Reiatsu that dwarfed the self-proclaimed Guardian of the Menos Forest, and it was slowly growing as if building up to a destructive crescendo.

“Intriguing,” Muramasa mused, an eyebrow arching in genuine surprise. “Not a drop in my oasis. You’re a tide. What stirred the waves within you?”

Rather than straight up killing her, he chose to engage in idle conversation with one purpose — finding her motivation and using it to fan the flames within her. Pushing her to evolve into a Vasto Lorde would make her a worthwhile harvest. No act was too far when it came to freeing his Master from his shackles.

“You,” Nelliel answered in a cold voice. “You killed these Gillians and plan to kill more. That alone makes me want to drive my lance through your heart.”

She was very much against the idea of killing someone unless done out of vengeance or self defense. But someone who could kill so many without any remorse, someone who could talk about killing millions with a smile — someone like that had no right to live in her eyes.

“What’s the big deal about that? Your kind have been eating each other since time immemorial.”

“It’s a fight for survival between us, the same as animals in a forest. You, however, are not a part of our world.”

Muramasa narrowed his eyes. “Who are you to decide that? Who gave you the right to protect these Hollows?”

Nelliel closed her eyes, yet his maniacal voice continued taunting her. Such conflicts wouldn’t happen under Kazuya and Harribel’s rule. Until their vision was realized she had to stop external threats like Muramasa from making her race extinct.

In a flicker of motion too swift for the eye to track, Muramasa vanished from her sight, using Shunpo to arrive at her flank. But after her skirmish with Apacci, Nelliel was hardly surprised by this adept use of high-speed movement. With ease, she parried the slashing strike aimed at her side.

“You think of yourself as the Messiah for your race? Don’t make me laugh. You’re just a Hollow stuck in this abyss forever.”

With a defiant flourish, Nelliel countered his blade. Sparks flew as her lance clashed with his katana, illuminating the feral intensity blazing behind her Hollow mask. “I’m not a Messiah… just someone true to her desires.”

Muramasa tightened his grip, wielding his katana with both hands and pressing against her lance. Despite brandishing her weapon single-handedly, Nelliel held her ground, tilting her head forward and advancing a step, nearly forcing him back.

Muramasa took a graceful leap, withdrawing away from her, observing the continuous growth of her Reiatsu, as though it was feeding upon her emotions.

‘So close. How do I give her the final push?’

He had already drained the ‘Messiah’ angle, and he lacked further insight into her vulnerabilities. “Say, will someone mourn your death?”

“No,” she answered coldly and stepped towards her. “Didn’t you say you wanted to consume all Hollows? Come, kill and eat me.”

“With pleasure.”

The two combatants lunged at each other in a maelstrom of clashing Reiatsu and glinting steel. Nelliel thrust her lance with deadly precision, but Muramasa deftly evaded the blow, using a perfectly executed Shunpo to materialize above her. His katana descended upon her in a blinding arc then it blurred. She hastily raised her lance to parry, yet his blade had already left its signature — a series of grievous wounds seared into her flesh.

Nelliel’s experience mattered nothing in front of Muramasa, the Zanpakutō Spirit of the prodigious Koga Kuchiki. He effortlessly dominated the clash, forcing her into a reactive stance. Nevertheless, the fury blazing in her eyes remained undimmed. The mounting injuries, the excruciating pain, and the grim odds of her survival — nothing could break her spirit. If she were to lose, thousands would die to fuel Muramasa’s selfish ambitions. The single spark kept her in the fight.

That was an outcome she could not—would not—tolerate.

Empowered by her unyielding will, her heartbeat pulsed in harmony with her smoldering desires. Her strength surged exponentially, compelling Muramasa to elevate his own Reiatsu to keep up with her. Oblivious to these invisible fluctuations, Nelliel’s attention remained laser-focused on Muramasa’s every move. Being on the defensive allowed her to observe everything in detail.

‘He is shallow.’

Though Muramasa’s raw power and speed may have rivaled or even surpassed that of Apacci, his tactical approach was one-dimensional. He repeated the same slashing attacks, never bothering to mix things up — clearly, he was underestimating her.

Despite knowing how to counter his offense, Nelliel continued her defensive actions. She could feel a growing unity with her lance. The relic moved to block and parry with extreme responsiveness as if it was an extension of her body. Her spirit and flesh were harmonizing, forging an unbreakable bond with her cherished lance.

Disengaging momentarily, Muramasa executed a lithe backward leap, breaking their stalemate. “You wanted to kill me, now you won’t even attack me. Have you given up?”

Nelliel didn’t answer him, looking intently at her lance. There was a feeling that something inside the lance called out to her. Guided by her raw instincts, she closed her eyes and took a steadying breath, gripping her lance in a poised, reversed hold, while her free hand took a steady hold in the air. Everything felt natural as if she had done this before.

In response to her stance, her spiritual pressure surged and cascaded like a tidal wave. Her Reiatsu changed her from inside out. Her wounds miraculously closed, her skin hardening.

In a fluid, graceful motion, she hurled her lance toward Muramasa. The weapon drilled through the air, conjuring a vortex in its wake. It punctured Muramasa’s shoulder with unerring accuracy, obliterating his entire right arm in a splatter of ectoplasmic gore. The lance’s momentum didn’t end there as it ripped a gaping hole through the cavern’s wall.

“Impressive. You finished your evolution. I want to applaud you but,” Muramasa paused and briefly glanced at the stump where his right arm had been moments ago. The flesh writhed grotesquely as slowly a new arm emerged from nothing. He brought his hands together and offered a sincere applause. “Eating Hollows gave me high-speed regeneration. How much will I grow from eating you? I cannot wait.”

“You’re a freak,” Nelliel said. “This isn’t—”

Her senses tingled with the unmistakable pulse of a familiar Reiatsu. A Reiatsu that she once saw as insurmountable, even now it carried the same oppression. But what caught her off guard was Muramasa's expression — a brief flash of uncharacteristic astonishment.

“You know him?”

Muramasa blinked and regained his disinterested look. “I don’t think it’s him. This Reiatsu is a little different… that guy is a Shinigami, not Hollow.”

Nelliel shook her head at his mutterings and glanced at the new hole in the cave. She couldn’t afford to go for her lance as it'd give Muramasa an opportunity to escape.

“I’ll die if I stick around. She isn’t worth the trouble of fighting him.”

With a casual flick of his newly regenerated arm, Muramasa invoked a swirling Garganta. Nelliel, propelled by Sonído, lunged to intercept him, but he had already stepped into the portal. For a fleeting second, she contemplated diving into the Garganta in hot pursuit. She pushed away the thought. Without her lance, she would absolutely die at Muramasa’s hands.

‘He won’t be lucky next time.’