A person unwilling to die would never sit idly by and wait for death.
Faced with Aizen's blade, thrusting toward her like a bolt of lightning, Esdeath had no way to escape or avoid it. Left with no choice, she decided to fight for her life.
She suddenly drew her sword.
The weapon, a soft sword coiled around her waist, had been disguised as a belt.
"shing!"
The sound of the blade being unsheathed echoed sharply. Under the moonlight, the cold gleam of the sword flashed, chilling and deadly.
Her sword slashed downward in an intricate pattern, like falling plum blossoms. The attack aimed at Aizen's entire body—his forehead, throat, eyes, and heart.
She didn't attempt to block Aizen's thrusting blade.
This was a desperate counterattack.
Her soft sword was slightly longer than Aizen's curved blade. While it was only a matter of a few inches, those few inches could be the difference between life and death.