Chapter 383 - 382: Dead Superhero
Five quincy masters of the Sternritters stood at the edge of the shattered dunes of Hueco Mundo, facing five warriors from the Las Noches.
The air was distorted by pressure alone. Every step each of them took warped the desert floor into black glass. The spiritual density was so thick that even the air screamed.
Cang Du, bearer of the The Iron—his body gleaming with metallic luster—faced Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez head-on.
Grimmjow’s roars echoed across the pale horizon as he slashed again and again, claws wreathed in blue energy. Yet every strike, every furious blow, was reduced to a meaningless clang.
*Clang!Crack!Skrrrch!*
Each strike rebounded off Cang Du’s body as if he were made of pure iron. Grimmjow’s Desgarrón (Spanish for "Laceration/Great Tear", Japanese for "Panther/Leopard King’s Claw"), a weapon that once shredded Espada and Vasto Lorde alike, failed to draw even a scratch.
"Tch... damn you, you walking hunk of armor!" Grimmjow spat, panting through clenched teeth.
Cang Du didn’t bother replying. His eyes, cold and expressionless, betrayed no emotion.Even his counterattacks, though slower than Grimmjow’s relentless flurries, were deliberate, methodical. Under his impenetrable defense, Grimmjow’s ferocity was meaningless.
The difference between fury and control began to show.
Within moments, Grimmjow’s movements dulled. His breathing became ragged, sweat mixing with sand. The battle was turning one-sided.
He knew it. The quincy didn’t even need to move fast — his sheer presence alone dominated the space around them. Grimmjow was being cornered.
Not far away, a blazing orange flame erupted.