Bankai—Eight Heavenly Dragons: Devas

Tell me.

For a Shinigami, what is the ultimate form of humiliation?

—Being publicly insulted?

—Suffering a crushing defeat?

—Constantly being outmatched, left with no advantage?

Each of these factors plays a role.

But for Sui-Feng, what she was experiencing now was true humiliation.

Her pride—her unparalleled Shunpo—had been effortlessly read and countered.

Her trump card—her Zanpakutō's ability—was openly mocked.

Yet, if that were all, perhaps she could have swallowed her pride.

But what made her blood boil—what truly shattered her composure—

Was his mocking words.

"Show me your real strength."

Ha?! Did she not make herself clear?

Did her hatred and disgust not reach him?

Was he mocking her?

Was this some act of composure, or was he truly looking down on her?

…

It no longer mattered.

None of it mattered anymore.

Something snapped inside Sui-Feng.

Her face remained blank, but her right hand rose slightly.

She had no intention of speaking further.

She had no intention of explaining herself.

Right now, there was only one thought left in her mind.

"Smash that infuriating face into the ground."

Her Reiatsu surged, turning tangible—

Azure light ribbons coiled around her like snakes.

Her hair, caught in the rising gale, twisted upward—

As if a storm were brewing within her.

The observing captains felt it immediately.

"…"

For ordinary spectators, this might be nothing more than an exciting match.

But for those standing at the pinnacle of Soul Society—

This pressure was impossible to ignore.

Kyōraku glanced at Yamamoto.

Seeing that the old man remained expressionless, he chuckled softly.

Lowering his hat slightly, he muttered:

"It's coming."

The final trump card of a Shinigami.

Sui-Feng inhaled deeply, then raised her right hand high.

Her sharp, commanding voice rang through the arena:

"Bankai!"

BOOM!!!

A shockwave burst outward—

Was it air pressure?

Or raw, condensed Reiatsu?

It didn't matter.

The sheer force of it caused several captains to instinctively raise their arms, shielding themselves from the blast.

"Tch. What a mess."

Ukitake sighed.

"At a time when Soul Society is already in turmoil, now they want to resolve their personal grudges? And at the level of Bankai, no less…"

Had this been a battle against an enemy, it might have been acceptable.

But to unleash such destructive power over something so petty?

Even Ukitake couldn't help but frown in disapproval.

Deep down, he still harbored the naïve hope that this kind of dispute could have been settled diplomatically.

"That's too idealistic."

Unohana spoke quietly.

Her usually soft voice was uncharacteristically firm—

Rising to match the roaring Reiatsu in the air.

"People are animals. No matter how much you shackle them with rules and morality, their true nature never changes."

Thus—

When words fail, swords must speak.

When tempers rise, blood is the only teacher.

"Pain is the best lesson one can learn."

Hearing this, Ukitake fell silent.

Though he didn't agree, he found himself unable to argue.

In the distance, Aizen adjusted his glasses, his voice calm:

"It's coming."

And then—

Through the swirling dust and wind—

A streak of brilliant gold gleamed in the air.

Its fangs bared—

A gust of wind swept through the arena, fully revealing Sui-Feng's Bankai.

It was nothing like her Shikai.

A massive object—nearly five meters long—coiled around her arm.

The color was a gleaming, burnished gold, its surface sleek but dull in texture.

Its sheer weight alone made it clear—

This was not a weapon meant for stealth.

Kyōraku rubbed his chin.

"…Something's off."

Beside him, Ukitake nodded.

"Yes. Something's strange about this."

Nearby, Tōsen—though blind—felt it too.

A sharp, piercing pressure filled the air—

Like countless tiny needles pressing against his skin.

Dangerous.

He instinctively reached for his sword—

Before catching himself.

The target wasn't him.

"Aizen-taichō…"

He turned toward Aizen, unsure why he even spoke.

The answer came before he could ask.

"Yes. It's quite unusual, isn't it?"

Aizen's smile was unreadable.

"Stealth Force captain or not—this Bankai is anything but subtle."

Indeed.

Unlike her Shikai, which was designed for precision and assassination—

Her Bankai was pure, unrestrained destruction.

It wasn't meant for assassins.

It was a declaration of war.

So then—

Had she abandoned her stealthy nature?

Or was this her true self, finally breaking free?

No one could say for certain.

But one thing was clear:

"This girl is far less honest with herself than she thinks."

Aizen smirked.

For the experienced captains, it was already obvious.

"…They're all staring."

Sui-Feng hated being the center of attention.

Yoruichi had always said—

"A true assassin never reveals themselves."

And yet—

Whenever she used her Bankai…

It felt like she was being stripped bare for all to see.

She hated it.

But she wouldn't stop now.

She couldn't.

She inhaled deeply—

Then, with unwavering rage, raised her weapon.

"Seiya Arima!"

Her voice was ice cold.

"This is my Bankai—Jakuho Raikoben."

"It does not kill with stealth—"

"It builds up power and releases it all in one devastating strike."

"If you still think you can mock me—"

Her lips curled into a sneer.

"Then stand still—"

"And take this blast head-on."

If her earlier words were taunts—

Now, they were outright fury.

She wanted him to feel fear.

She wanted him to flinch.

She wanted him to surrender.

Even just a hesitation—

Even if he didn't say it out loud, if he so much as looked afraid—

She would feel satisfaction.

Yet—

Seiya merely smiled.

"That's fine."

His response was effortless.

Sasakibe's eyes widened.

"You—"

Seiya cut him off.

"It's alright, Sasakibe-san."

His voice was calm.

"I swear on my title as Fifth Division Captain—"

He took a single step forward.

"This fight will have no casualties."

With a flick of his wrist, his sword twirled elegantly in his grip.

"So—"

He smiled.

"Shall we continue?"

Sasakibe hesitated.

Then turned toward Yamamoto.

The old man, silent until now, slammed his staff onto the stone floor.

CRACK!

The ground splintered beneath the force.

With a low, gravelly voice, Yamamoto declared:

"Approved. Continue."

A brilliant grin spread across Seiya's face.

"Understood."

Sui-Feng's hatred burned—

But hatred must be met with equal resolve.

So now—

For the first time since its rebirth—

The true form of Sāgara Ryū would be revealed.

'Ohhh!!'

A voice echoed in Seiya's soul—

Excited. Hungry.

'That's what I'm talking about, Seiya!'

Then—

'Call my name, my wielder!'

Seiya exhaled.

His grip tightened.

And then—

"Reveal your true majesty—"

"Let all sufferings be burned away."

"This is neither mortal nor divine—this is pure bliss."

"Bankai."

"Eight Heavenly Dragons: Devas."

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