Bleach : The God of Flames

The world was transformed into two colors in an instant—black and white.

A mausoleum and a field of gravestones had already materialized beside the Monk, while countless skulls covered the ground around him.

This time, the Monk completed Ichimonji: Ichimonji no Taikō noticeably faster than before.

Perhaps the pressure Tsunayoshi put on him simply wasn't as great as Aizen's. Whatever the reason, the Monk swiftly used Kidō as cover and completed the preparations for Ichimonji no Taikō.

"Yikes. Better stay out of the way. The Monk's getting angry."

Kirinji glanced at Yoruichi beside him.

Because he had been defeated by Aizen, he didn't know that the Monk had already used Ichimonji no Taikō before.

From Kirinji's understanding, the Monk only unleashed such a terrifying killing intent when he was truly enraged. The bloodlust surrounding the Monk was so intense that even Kirinji's hot springs couldn't wash it away.

The invisible killing intent added another layer of chilling finality to the black-and-white world.

Yoruichi followed Kirinji and used Shunpo to leave the area.

After their brief exchange, her impression of Kirinji was actually rather good—aside from his habit of putting on the airs of an overbearing senior.

Within this colorless world, the only thing that could be considered vibrant was Tsunayoshi in his Beyond Bankai state.

That warm golden color was like the flame of a candle, seemingly capable of being extinguished by the endless darkness at any moment.

The Monk planted Ichimonji among the pile of skulls before him, then pressed his palms together and struck them forcefully.

The Black that could reduce an enemy's flesh and bones to nothingness began spreading toward Tsunayoshi.

When faced with a crisis, one couldn't simply sit around and wait for death.

Tsunayoshi was already prepared to counterattack the Monk's overwhelming assault.

From the solar wheel behind him, the yellow flame quietly detached itself and descended into Tsunayoshi's right fist.

His silver gauntlet was immediately enveloped in pale-yellow flames.

The attack of Ichimonji no Taikō arrived incredibly fast.

In the blink of an eye, a dark road formed from countless skulls had already surged before Tsunayoshi.

Faced with the Monk's overwhelming attack, Tsunayoshi's response was simply to throw an ordinary-looking straight punch.

It was anything but ordinary.

There was no sound.

No visible shockwave.

Those watching only saw a golden circle suddenly bloom around Tsunayoshi.

At the center of that circle was the point where Tsunayoshi's fist collided with Ichimonji no Taikō.

That point radiated a golden hue almost identical to sunlight—dazzling, yet never harsh.

The golden radiance slowly expanded through the black-and-white world, adding a warmth called hope to an otherwise merciless reality.

Without expending even the slightest amount of effort, the light of that miniature sun restored the Monk's black-and-white world to its original colors.

Halo Fist—

A punch that bestowed hope upon those standing at the bottom of the abyss of despair.

The world returned to normal.

Tsunayoshi remained in his punching stance.

Within the range of Halo Fist, the Black under the Monk's control recoiled as though it had encountered its natural enemy. It dared not approach even an inch and instead retreated completely to the Monk's side.

"Sun...?"

"There is still hope."

The Monk pulled Ichimonji free once more.

The state of Ichimonji no Taikō disappeared, but all the Black surrounding him was absorbed into the tip of Ichimonji's brush.

"I underestimated you, Sawada Tsunayoshi."

Tsunayoshi calmly withdrew his fist.

This was the first time he had used Halo Fist in the real world.

As expected, the warmth and hope contained within the technique did not cause much disturbance to the surrounding world.

If he used one of his other ultimate techniques, however, the result would be completely different.

Everyone knew that the Vongola Sun Guardian's ultimate fighting techniques were attacks that unleashed their full power with every strike.

Even Tsunayoshi had no idea how long the Soul Society could withstand that kind of assault.

But that was a matter for later.

For now, the most important thing was dealing with the Monk, who regarded him as a poisonous threat.

The Monk held Ichimonji across his body and slowly walked toward Tsunayoshi.

The brush tip of Ichimonji appeared saturated with ink. It swayed gently with every movement, yet not a single drop fell from it.

"Sawada Tsunayoshi, I wonder if your fists can withstand my swordsmanship!"

In the next instant, the Monk—completely disregarding the dignity expected of a warrior—appeared directly in front of Tsunayoshi and thrust Ichimonji toward him.

Tsunayoshi twisted aside, dodging the Monk's attack.

But the Monk's movements were impossible to predict.

Ichimonji's brush tip danced wildly through the air.

It didn't seem as though the Monk was trying to cut him.

Instead, he was deliberately splashing ink throughout the space around Tsunayoshi.

The moment Tsunayoshi realized the Monk's objective, his expression turned sour.

The Monk was swinging his ink-soaked Ichimonji around like a mop dipped in something indescribable.

He had transformed into wielding his brush like a madman, making everyone around him afraid to approach.

And Tsunayoshi was precisely that unfortunate bystander.

There was absolutely no way he wanted to get ink on himself.

Unfortunately, avoiding it wasn't simply a matter of whether Tsunayoshi wanted to.

The Monk's entire swordsmanship had been refined around one objective:

How to get his opponent stained with ink.

He didn't need to actually kill his enemy.

As long as the opponent was blackened by his ink, the Monk would have the upper hand.

Tsunayoshi understood his intentions just as well.

He had no intention of continuing this drawn-out battle.

He needed to break free from this dance of blades.

White light enveloped Tsunayoshi's body.

Super-Activation engaged once more.

He found an opening and immediately used Shunpo to escape.

The Monk noticed Tsunayoshi's movement and merely curled his lips into a cold smile.

He swung one palm toward Tsunayoshi.

Again—

Senri Tsūtenshō!

Tsunayoshi immediately recognized the technique.

The Monk was simply repeating the same trick.

It posed no threat to him.

Trying to trap him with the same old move?

The Monk was seriously underestimating him.

Tsunayoshi twisted his body, gathering strength as he turned around and prepared to throw a sweeping punch at the incoming Senri Tsūtenshō.

But the moment he turned around—

His expression changed.

That was Senri Tsūtenshō?

When had the golden palm turned black?

No.

That wasn't Senri Tsūtenshō.

It was merely a palm constructed from the Monk's ink.

The Monk had deliberately imitated Senri Tsūtenshō as a feint.

His objective was to deceive Tsunayoshi into directly confronting the ink palm.

When did he...?!

Tsunayoshi hadn't noticed when the Monk had scattered such an enormous amount of ink throughout the area and then reconstructed it.

The gigantic palm exploded before him.

A torrential downpour composed primarily of ink drenched Tsunayoshi from head to toe.

In the end, he hadn't managed to avoid it.

The Monk's control over the Black was simply too powerful.

With a little planning, he had successfully turned Tsunayoshi into a little black figure.

Seeing Tsunayoshi standing motionless, the Monk casually picked at his ear.

"Finally, it's over. Young people these days are really difficult to deal with."

The Monk rested Ichimonji on his shoulder and walked toward Tsunayoshi.

He wasn't worried in the slightest that the ink might fail to affect him.

How many people in this world were there like Aizen, those freaks capable of reclaiming their own names?

Tsunayoshi might not have an anchor in this world, but that didn't mean the Monk's ability was ineffective against him.

As long as Sawada Tsunayoshi himself forgot his own name, the person standing before him would become nothing more than a walking corpse.

No.

Not a walking corpse.

The perfect Soul King candidate.

The Monk stroked the large beard on his chin and looked at the unmoving black statue before him with a smile.

Now wasn't the time to directly transform Tsunayoshi into the Soul King.

He would seal him away first.

Shinuchi: Shirofude Ichimonji!

The tip of Ichimonji's brush turned white.

The Monk began considering what kind of name he should give Tsunayoshi.

It would only be temporary.

Once Tsunayoshi was eventually transformed, the name could simply be removed.

Forget it.

Why waste the effort?

He would simply write "Cargo" and store him in the Soul King Palace.

The Monk raised the brush.

Just as he was about to bestow a new name upon Tsunayoshi, the little black figure before him suddenly moved.

A fist slammed directly into the Monk's face.

The Monk tumbled through the air several times before finally coming to a stop.

When he looked up again, he saw that the color covering the little black figure was actually beginning to fade.

Then the Monk saw cracks spreading across the ink covering Tsunayoshi's body.

Like parched earth, the black coating broke apart piece by piece and fell from Tsunayoshi's body.

The Monk felt as though his entire world was collapsing.

Ever since he had obtained Ichimonji, his ability had never failed.

Yet within the past few days, he had suffered failure after failure.

Aizen's case could still be understood.

Aizen had essentially anchored his own name.

But what was happening with Sawada Tsunayoshi?

It looked as though he had somehow rendered Ichimonji's ability ineffective.

"Surprised?"

Tsunayoshi spoke calmly.

"Isn't it obvious that ink fades when exposed to sunlight?"

Only then did the Monk notice that Tsunayoshi's entire body was glowing with golden light.

He was dazzling like the sun itself.

Was that light what rendered Ichimonji's ability ineffective?

The Monk refused to believe it.

If Tsunayoshi possessed such an ability, why had he been dodging the ink all this time?

"It was an accident."

As though he could read the Monk's thoughts, Tsunayoshi answered his unspoken question perfectly.

"I only just discovered the true nature of the Sun attribute's power. It just happens to be the perfect counter to your Black."

Indeed, it had been an accident.

When the ink palm had enveloped him, Tsunayoshi could have erupted with Reiatsu and escaped the attack range.

But his instincts had told him that he didn't actually need to fear the Monk's Black.

That was why Tsunayoshi had remained motionless, allowing the ink rain to cover him.

The instant he became a little black figure, the Sun flames within his body rapidly erupted with light.

Before Tsunayoshi had even begun to forget himself, the flames had already isolated the ink on the surface of his body.

The power of Super-Activation forced the ink to rapidly undergo the ravages of time.

Only a short amount of time passed in reality, yet the ink itself seemed to have experienced countless changes.

In the end, it reached a state in which its power had become completely ineffective.

As for that punch—

The reason it had merely sent the Monk rolling through the air several times was that all of Tsunayoshi's flames had been occupied with neutralizing the ink.

Otherwise, if Tsunayoshi had thrown that punch at full power, the result would have been far more serious than simply sending the Monk tumbling.

At the very least, he would have smashed half of the Monk's head flat.

"You really are going to bring about the destruction of the world!"

Without the slightest hesitation, the Monk slapped a gigantic label onto Tsunayoshi.

To the Monk, anything he couldn't control had no right to exist in this world.

Tsunayoshi had only two possible fates.

Either he would be sealed away and turned into the Soul King—

Or the Monk would kill him.

In the Monk's mind, there was no third path for Sawada Tsunayoshi.

"Hey, hey. Don't just slap some ridiculous label on me!"

Tsunayoshi could only complain helplessly.

He hadn't expected that one day someone would actually call him the destroyer of the world.

While verbally threatening Tsunayoshi, the Monk narrowed his eyes.

His mind was already rapidly processing the information he had gathered.

If Black can be faded...

Then White should have nothing to fade, right?

Although he couldn't completely blacken Tsunayoshi's name with ink, that didn't mean he couldn't alter it.

Adding something before or after a name could produce the same effect.

For example—

If Sawada Tsunayoshi were given the name "Ant," then Tsunayoshi's brilliance, which currently shone like the sun at its zenith, could be reduced to the insignificant size of an ant.

And once that happened—

Wouldn't Tsunayoshi be completely at the Monk's mercy?