Chapter - 17

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Chapter - 17: King

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The world around me is slowly being swallowed by darkness. Everything in my room vanishes in the blink of an eye, as if it had never existed.

And when it all reappears, it is different.

Still. Silent. Lifeless.

There is no sound. No wind. Only an oppressive absence that weighs on my shoulders like an invisible fog. I look up and realize I am no longer in the real world.

Naturally, I recognize where I am, even if it seems different from what I initially expected. "This is my inner world…" I murmur, more to grasp it myself than to truly explain.

It's like Karakura Town, but far richer in plant life: vines climbing up the street lamps, flowers blooming through the cracks in the concrete, majestic trees rising where buildings once stood.

Before my eyes stretched a magnificent green meadow, so vast it seemed infinite. The grass, soft and radiant, swayed gently with the light breeze, creating an almost hypnotic effect.

It felt as though that natural carpet extended all the way to the horizon, merging with the sky in a silent and perfect embrace.

I felt like I was in a dream, in a place outside of time, where everything was peace, silence, and beauty. And within me, a deep sense of serenity grew, as if that landscape was speaking directly to my heart.

At the center of the sky, there is a sun unlike the one we know. It does not burn, it does not blind. It is a calm, golden sun that seems to illuminate everything perfectly, as if every leaf, every shadow were exactly where it belonged.

Avalon.

From what I could see, the sheath had become the center of everything within me, as if it were the only thing capable of keeping my entire world in balance.

I didn't feel it on me, but inside me. It didn't weigh on my shoulders or skin like a physical burden, but pressed on my soul, like a silent and comforting presence.

"Truly, King, the sheath was your best idea. Relaxing in the meadow... I can assure you, it's priceless." I turned toward the direction the voice came from—the same one I had heard at the beginning.

In front of me stood a figure that resembled me, and yet I couldn't say it was me—since it was a woman.

Her eyes, with black sclera and irises in shades of yellow reminiscent of a reptile's, scrutinized me with a coldness that could freeze blood, and yet there was something irresistible in that gaze.

A deep, almost primal attraction.

Her white hair, tousled with ease, framed a face that somehow reminded me of my own, each strand moving as if it had a mind of its own—rebellious and full of confidence, just like her.

Her skin was as white as snow, with body was slender, sculpted, but with clearly defined curves, made even more provocative by the white haori that clung perfectly to her form.

The fabric traced the lines of her torso, emphasizing a chest that seemed made to fit perfectly in my hands. And it only took a glance to see how it hugged her large, full rear—displayed almost unintentionally…

Or perhaps very intentionally.

It was more than enough to capture my gaze. And me? I was completely, irreversibly, maddeningly fascinated—in more than one way.

There was something overwhelming about her, impossible to ignore. Her presence hit me in the gut and sank beneath my skin. She was like a storm—beautiful to look at, but dangerous to touch.

"Left you speechless, King?" she said with a sharp smile, tilting her head slightly. The tone was light, but something darker, more aware, shimmered in her eyes.

"I can't blame you, considering I'm damn sexy."Then she stepped closer, narrowing the space between us, and whispered with venomous irony, "Especially after that pussycat slut left you with blue balls."

"Who are you?"The question slipped from my lips before I could stop myself. I already knew the answer, deep down. She was right there in front of me, and yet accepting her in this form felt strangely unreal.

The woman chuckled softly, almost with pity. A low sound that seemed to echo in my mind more than in the air."Don't be stupid with me. Maybe you can fool some idiot out there, but not me. I'm no stranger. I'm your sword. Just because I've taken this form because you love to fuck doesn't mean it should be a big deal."

"Zangetsu," I said.

I felt a little stupid for not realizing it right away, but honestly, it had never occurred to me that even my Zanpakutō spirits could take on forms different from their original ones.

Not that I was complaining, mind you—having a man in my soul wasn't exactly what I aspired to—but I honestly hadn't expected that universal recalibration could affect even my inner spirits.

The figure smiled—an expression that was everything and nothing at once. Menacing, familiar, inevitable."Finally, you get it. I'm your blade. Your instinct. Your purest power."She took another step forward, and her presence became more oppressive, as if the air itself grew heavier."So why don't you start actively using my power, instead of relying solely on the abilities of that fake whore?"

I could understand where her complaints were coming from. After all, at the moment, I was drawing almost exclusively on my Quincy abilities, ignoring most of the rest.

But I didn't think it was necessarily the wrong choice or anything—after all, canon Ichigo, using only his Shinigami-Hollow powers, was completely outclassed by Yhwach Soul King without even getting the chance to show the power of his Bankai.

"The Hollow arm that appears when my Quincy wings manifest… Isn't that part of your power, after all?" I asked with curiosity, genuinely interested in how much autonomy they had over my powers.

I was starting to realize how advantageous it was to, in a sense, have three minds in one body. Or rather, two additional presences beside my own consciousness, ready to step in when conflict demanded it.

And in battle, that meant not only having access to multiple perspectives simultaneously, but also anticipating an enemy's move while another part of me was already thinking of the counterattack.

It was an interesting thought to keep in mind for the future.

Zangetsu scoffed with a mix of annoyance and frustration."It's just an unconscious manifestation of my power. A distorted reflection. It happens because you're using too much of that whore's power… And so I have to balance things, one way or another."

Her words were harsh, but not without logic. And I understood. It made sense, in a twisted and cruel way that only our dynamic could produce.

"Every time you rely too much on her… you overshadow me. You shut me out. You silence me. And when you do it for too long, I have no choice but to push. To emerge. To explode, if necessary..."

It was hunger. It was need. A fierce desire to be seen. To be acknowledged as an essential part of my existence. Not a secondary voice, not a shadow to be summoned only when needed, but a living, pulsing, indispensable presence.

It seemed I had truly underestimated my Zanpakutō spirits. I believed their loyalty was enough. That the bond was immutable, eternal, without needing much care or attention.

But they were not tools. They were not mere fragments of my power. They were living consciousnesses. And in that moment, with Zangetsu's burning gaze on me, I finally understood.

"You think you're in control. That you can analyze everything, rationally choose which part of you to use and which to suppress. But every time you choose to rationalize, you deny me. And you know damn well what will happen if you make me wait too long."

The touch was warm, but heavy with threat.

She lowered her gaze for a moment, almost hesitant, then raised her hand and brushed my chest, right where I felt our spiritual connection pulsing—always present.

"This bond isn't a contract. It's coexistence. Balance. If you keep favoring her, deluding yourself that her clean, perfect power is enough… then I won't just sit by. I'll tear you apart from the inside, slowly. Piece by piece. Until you're no longer able to ignore me."

I couldn't help but laugh—a short, almost ironic sound. "Are you jealous?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Deep down, it really did seem like that was the core of the issue.

It was also my way of trying to ease the tension, to cut through the dense atmosphere between us, like the charged air before an impending storm.

She didn't answer right away. She stared at me in silence, then tilted her head slightly, accompanying the gesture with a thin smile—devoid of kindness or amusement.

It was an expression you'd only see on a monster, and when her smile widened, revealing sharp teeth like those of a predator, it sealed that impression.

"Don't call it jealousy… call it belonging." She stepped forward, closing the distance between us completely. Her body pressed against mine, and I felt her warm breath on my neck as her voice whispered in my ear.

"You are mine just as much as I am yours. This has nothing to do with possession. It's nature. It's balance. And when someone tries to break that balance… I react. With every fiber of my being. Wildly, if necessary."

She smiled again, but there was no sweetness in it. It was the smile of a creature that had never asked for permission to exist.

Then she touched my chest again with a hand—fingers slow and deliberate—tracing a path that seemed random, but coursed beneath my skin like a thrill of pleasure.

Every touch was a declaration, as if she were marking territory, just like an animal would.

"I would never lower myself to the point of being jealous of an impostor pretending to be the center of your power." She stepped closer, her breath grazing my ear. "I am your instinct. And if I want something... I take it. When I claim something... I never let it go. I am greedy. And I don't share."

She grabbed my arm with a naturalness that was almost disarming, and I felt her lips approach my neck, warm, soft, leaving a trail of shivers wherever they touched.

Every breath she took seemed to sync with the beat of my heart, quickening it. And then, as her body pressed against mine, her thighs—soft and full—began to move against me, slowly, with a rhythm that knew exactly what it was doing.

She wasn't seeking support, nor a gesture of affection.

She was claiming what was hers.

My cock could not help but react, growing in size in a mixture of suppressed desire that threatened to break my control and decide to fuck her right now.

Yet she continued to move with that dominant calm, that confidence that made it seem as if she was making a statement: "Look at how you react to me. Look at how you belong to me… and how you, without even realizing it, belong to me."

But, unfortunately for her—or perhaps for me—our moment was broken.

"Don't touch him..." A cold voice interrupted us, and as the shadows around us shifted, a figure emerged, stepping between us, halting us from continuing a possible affair.

Before me stood a woman with a clear mature allure, every inch of her body filled in just the right places that made me glance twice, not wanting to miss anything.

Her short black hair framed her face with an almost disarming naturalness, sliding down her cheeks and grazing her shoulders like light fingers, making me curious to touch them and see if they were as soft as they appeared.

Her eyes, a deep blue, were half-lidded in an indifferent gaze. Yet there was something that cracked it just slightly. A faint blush on her cheeks—imperceptible, but real—I could sense it.

She wore a white shirt, perfectly fitted, the fabric stretched to follow every curve of her well-endowed torso, and over her shoulders, a black cape spread like a wing, or perhaps a shadow—accentuating the innate aura of authority that followed her.

The black, glossy pants clung to her like a second skin, enhancing the shape of her legs and feet, high heels, the rhythmic, decisive sound of which on the ground seemed to mark an invisible march.

And she did not speak. Not yet. But there was no need. Every step she took, every gesture, every silence—was already a speech. Her mere presence had already made her intentions clear.

She had divided.

She had claimed.

She had imposed her presence.

And in that suspended moment, between two forces facing off without words, something told me that neither of them would compromise.

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Marvel: I'm Spider-Man in this Damn Reincarnation: 1 advanced chapters

Hybrid Man (Ichigo Si/WC Fic) 1 advanced chapters

Son of Li Qiye?: 3 advanced chapters

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Chapter- 16: Shocker - Chapter- 17 (Incoming)

Chapter- 18: Spanking bad spirits

 Chapter - 7: Hobby - Chapter - 8: New Hunt - Chapter - 9: Past unknown

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