Chapter 489: The God at the End of the Road
"An existence of equal rank to myself."
Yhwach murmured as he turned slightly, gripping a nearly man-length Reishi arrow. His gaze was solemn, fixed ahead.
"Perhaps even closer to Father than I am now."
As the dust was swept away by the howling wind, Yhwach clearly saw the Captain-Commander of the Shinigami walking toward him.
It was as if he held the entire world in his hands. The blood-soaked air swirled around his white haori, and beneath his black hair, his cold eyes locked onto Yhwach.
"You’ve wielded your power well. It seems I’m not alone after all—and not as weak as I believed."
Yhwach gave a nod of approval, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes.
This power clearly surpassed what mortals could control—even with the aid of the Hōgyoku, imbued with fragments of the Soul King’s might.
An existence on equal footing with him—what else could that be but the child of a god?
This young Shinigami was likely his brother.
At one time, he believed that brother was the so-called "other self" known as Haschwalth.
They shared the same ability—the power to divide souls.
But compared to himself and Masatsuki Aozaki, Haschwalth was far too weak, no different from an ordinary human.
Now, this young Shinigami had demonstrated incredible strength and potential, stirring Yhwach’s interest and anticipation.
Perhaps he truly was his brother—the one worthy of being seen as an equal, one who could stand beyond the realm of the mundane.
But if he really was his brother... would he not also seek to replace that lofty, yet disgracefully shackled existence?
To be a supreme deity, yet bound and enslaved by lowly mortals—what greater humiliation could there be?
"Not alone? Don’t tell me you’re after some kind of companion too. You don’t strike me as the sentimental type."
Masatsuki Aozaki stood with his sword in hand, a trace of mockery in his eyes.
Gradually, his indifference gave way to a blazing intensity, as if boiling blood surged through his veins.
"Still not planning to open those eyes? You know full well—in your current state, you’re no match for me. Keep this up, and you’ll die for sure!"
Masatsuki Aozaki shouted. And perhaps it was just his imagination, but Yhwach could detect a sense of urgency in his voice.
"Incomprehensible... I don’t know where your confidence comes from. But if I open these eyes, I’ll step into the domain of the gods. Are you truly unafraid?"
Yhwach hesitated. His heart wavered.
The lives of the Quincy meant nothing to him.
They were merely tools—disposable pawns under the will of their king. Never companions. Just expendable fodder.
Yet each time he tried to open those eyes, a nameless fear surged from deep within.
It made him hesitate, too afraid to take that final step.
And Masatsuki Aozaki’s attitude—was simply too strange. It was as if he wanted him to open them.
But who in their right mind would wish for their enemy to grow stronger...?
"Fine. When you’re close to death, you’ll do what needs to be done."
Clang!
A sharp sound split the air as a pure white blade slowly swept through the sky. Masatsuki Aozaki’s presence shifted—his once calm Reiatsu now sharpening, growing fiercer by the second.
"Death is your destined fate!"
As the sword sliced forward, killing intent and madness erupted like molten lava, swelling from subtle traces into a force so overwhelming it made the air tremble.
Before Masatsuki Aozaki had even approached, Yhwach instinctively retreated several steps.
Only after regaining awareness did he realize—he had backed away without thinking, compelled by sheer pressure alone.
There was no fear or rage in him. What dawned on him instead was the truth: Masatsuki Aozaki had never intended to kill him before. That entire fierce clash had been a ruse—a storm’s prelude. He hadn’t cared about life or death; it had all been buildup.
All that killing intent had been buried deep in his heart, like a sword sheathed within a box, accumulating and compressing until it peaked—then burst forth like a blade unsheathed.
So that’s it. Just now, he was only toying with me—but now he really means to kill.
Yhwach’s eyes, capable of glimpsing the future, now saw only death.
In his vision, the man standing before him was no longer the Captain-Commander of the Shinigami—but a raging beast, roaring with fury. It reminded him of an "old friend."
A thousand years ago, amid endless despair, fear, and wailing, the flames of rage had suddenly ignited.
And because it had been suppressed for so long, its eruption was all the more terrifying.
"I see. Then let me see whether your fury is enough to drive me to the edge."
Yhwach raised his arrow, watching as the Shinigami before him lifted his blade.
The clouds above began to churn, twisting into a massive vortex.
Masatsuki Aozaki stood aloft like a god of destruction. His black and white robes billowed with mirrored Reiatsu, and his waist-length hair danced in the wind, veiling his face.
His eyes were cold. The long blade in his hand shimmered with a deadly light, as though it could tear the very sky apart.
Yhwach felt a crushing pressure like never before—but instead of backing down, a faint smile of anticipation curved his lips.
He knew—this was a battle of life and death. And if he could win, no one would stand in his way again.
Across from the giant Quincy cross crest at the center of the royal city, Yhwach stood in silence before the execution post, cloaked in black, glowing faintly with azure light.
Compared to Masatsuki Aozaki, he looked more like a warrior rising to challenge the gods.
Everything around them was still. No one moved, no one spoke. Even the usual clamor of Reverse London seemed to fade into silence.
On this stage where the fate of the Three Worlds would be decided, only a god and his challenger faced off.
Fragments of stone floated in the air, drifting like delicate snowflakes.
Then, after a moment, a dark shadow fell from above, landing between them.
With a dull thud, a strange avian head hit the ground, splattering blood that made Yhwach narrow his eyes.
He recognized it instantly—the final form of Lille Barro’s Vollständig. That bloodthirsty bird who always brought victory was now plummeting from the sky.
Just then, Yhwach suddenly felt an overwhelming force descend upon him.
He looked up—only to see the god above the world lower his head.
Through the strands of drifting hair, he met a pair of cold, detached eyes.
And in that instant—when their gazes locked—his mind felt like it would burst. He seemed to glimpse a terrifying vision.
Rivers of blood flowed endlessly, winding across the land, turning the earth crimson.
A shattered black king lay broken, his limbs strewn about like discarded dolls.
Those mangled remains slowly fused together, forming a massive, ominous throne.
It stood at the end of a road paved with bones—an entrance to Hell, or perhaps a gate to Heaven.
And atop that road, a white god gazed coldly upon the world.
That gaze... was utterly disorienting.