Even Barragan was no exception to this rule of respect for Aizen's power. Despite his ancient pride and former status as king, he had been forced to acknowledge a superior force.

If Aizen had relied solely on illusions generated by Kyōka Suigetsu, he would never have been able to truly subjugate the unruly Espada. Hypnosis alone could not tame beings who had spent centuries or millennia as apex predators. Something more fundamental was required—raw, overwhelming power that couldn't be denied or resisted.

If Aizen's Reiatsu had been even slightly weaker than it was, Barragan would have launched an indiscriminate attack to destroy him, even if doing so meant burying a cadre of fellow Espada alongside his target. The former king would have deemed such collateral damage an acceptable price for eliminating the usurper who had stolen his throne.

The reason Barragan had never attempted such a desperate gambit was startlingly simple—he couldn't succeed. Aizen's spiritual pressure was simply too immense. If the former Shinigami captain were to unleash his Reiatsu at full strength, he could withstand the aging aura through sheer spiritual dominance.

Under such circumstances, Barragan's chances of victory were negligible at best. His power, though fearsome, had definite limits when confronted with truly superior spiritual energy.

But even Aizen, with all his tremendous power, would need to expend an enormous quantity of Reiatsu to resist Respira's effects. It would require a significant portion of his spiritual reserves, representing a genuine effort rather than a casual dismissal.

A situation like what they were witnessing now—where Uehara Shiroha seemed to completely ignore the power of aging through some inherent quality of his Reiatsu—should be utterly impossible. This transcended mere quantitative advantage; it suggested a qualitative difference that bordered on the metaphysical.

Aizen, for all his strength, could never accomplish this. No Shinigami should be capable of it. No Arrancar, however powerful, could achieve such immunity. Only beings that existed beyond the conventional hierarchy of spiritual entities—gods, in the truest sense—should possess such transcendent capabilities.

Barragan, who had once fancied himself a deity of sorts during his reign over Hueco Mundo, would never concede godhood to a mere Shinigami. His pride, though battered, would not allow for such humiliation.

"God?" Stark's voice was thoughtful as he regarded Uehara Shiroha with complex emotions reflected in his gaze.

Something in Uehara Shiroha's manner suggested that he wasn't simply boasting or attempting to intimidate them. Despite the outlandish nature of his claims, Stark sensed an underlying truth to his words.

This man's Reiatsu might genuinely conceal divine power—or something functionally equivalent. It would explain how Uehara Shiroha could so effortlessly dominate three of Aizen's strongest warriors simultaneously.

The fundamental reason had to be that his opponent's spiritual energy existed on an entirely different plane from their own. It wasn't merely stronger in the conventional sense—it operated according to different principles altogether.

Whether examining raw Reiatsu itself or the various attributes it enhanced—speed, strength, defensive capability, and perceptual acuity—every aspect of Uehara Shiroha's power seemed to transcend normal limitations.

The dynamic reminded Stark of ancient myths where gods looked down upon mortals from lofty heights—Uehara Shiroha's Reiatsu similarly gazed down upon them from a higher dimension of existence.

Having spent centuries honing his spiritual senses as both predator and prey, Stark possessed a more intuitive understanding of Uehara Shiroha's unique energy signature than his companions. He had noticed something unusual about his opponent's Reiatsu from the very beginning of their confrontation, sensing subtle qualities that defied conventional classification.

But he hadn't anticipated just how profound these differences would prove to be. This wasn't simply a matter of superior power within the same framework—this represented dimensional superiority, akin to the absolute control higher-dimensional beings might exercise over lower-dimensional existences.

From their perspective, what they faced was indeed divine power—something that operated outside the rules that governed their reality.

Harribel, too, found herself deep in contemplation. The gravity of the situation was becoming increasingly apparent as the battle progressed.

She had also begun to recognize the vast chasm separating their capabilities from those of their opponent. This realization provoked unsettling questions about their fundamental nature and place in the cosmic hierarchy.

Though her pride resisted such admission, the Shinigami before them possessed power so overwhelming that it inspired primitive awe—the kind reserved for natural disasters or celestial phenomena. His strength transcended conventional metrics, existing in a realm where their most devastating techniques became little more than gentle breezes.

Could they truly overcome such an opponent? The question haunted her thoughts, seeding doubt where confidence had once reigned supreme.

"Barragan, it seems you remain unconvinced!" Uehara Shiroha's form blurred as he initiated another lightning-fast pursuit of the skeletal Espada.

His actions continued to systematically humiliate the former king of Hueco Mundo, treating him as a soft persimmon that could be squeezed at will—a punching bag whose dignity meant nothing. The once-mighty monarch had been reduced to little more than a plaything, a source of amusement for a being who existed beyond his comprehension.

For Uehara Shiroha, this encounter represented an invigorating battle—a precious opportunity to refine his techniques through practical application, a stimulating game that tested his abilities in new and interesting ways.

But for Barragan, the experience had degenerated into pure torture and humiliation. His advanced age had sapped his former zeal for combat; he longed only to reclaim his throne in Hueco Mundo, to rule in relative peace while waiting for the inevitable end that came to all things.

The confidence that had once defined him had eroded over the millennia, replaced by caution and pragmatism. In truth, he had abandoned the warrior's path long ago, surrendering his fighting spirit to the very force he commanded—time's inexorable passage.

This fundamental change had manifested when he rejected an invitation from the ancient Hollow Ikomikidomoe to invade Soul Society and assault the Soul King Palace. By declining that opportunity for greater power and glory, Barragan had effectively surrendered any possibility of evolving beyond his current state.

Having sacrificed the courage to resist once, when facing Aizen, it came as no surprise that he would lack the resolve to stand firm against Uehara Shiroha now. The first compromise of pride made all subsequent surrenders easier to bear.

Stark and Harribel could only watch helplessly as Uehara Shiroha systematically dismantled the dignity and pride of the Espada who had once ruled all of Hueco Mundo. They felt the sting of humiliation by association, yet remained powerless to alter the course of events unfolding before them.

Stark recognized that their current approach was untenable. If Barragan had maintained a stronger fighting spirit, they might have been able to adopt a war of attrition, accepting incremental damage while gradually depleting Uehara Shiroha's Reiatsu reserves and stamina.

Such a strategy might have offered a slender ray of hope, however faint. But with Barragan acting as dead weight rather than a genuine combatant, they couldn't even properly leverage their numerical advantage.

To be brutally honest, their current disadvantageous position stemmed directly from Barragan's "heroic" performance—or lack thereof. Uehara Shiroha had shrewdly targeted and surrounded Barragan with ferocious attacks, forcing Stark and Harribel to come to his aid.

They couldn't abandon their fellow Espada without making their situation even more precarious. Consequently, despite ostensibly outnumbering their opponent, they found themselves pulled into a tactical quagmire, suppressed from every direction by a single adversary.

Therefore, Stark abandoned hesitation and embraced desperate measures. With a surge of determination, he unleashed a tremendous burst of Reiatsu, causing the very fabric of his spiritual being to split and transform.

This division manifested physically as a pack of wolves comprised of pure spiritual energy—each one an extension of his fragmented soul.

"Let's go, Stark!" he commanded, directing the spectral wolf pack to charge toward Uehara Shiroha with relentless ferocity.

Although he harbored deep reluctance to risk Lilinette's spiritual integrity—she was, after all, the other half of his divided soul—the current trajectory of battle left him no alternative. If they continued engaging Uehara Shiroha as they had been, neither would survive the encounter.

So, against his natural preferences, Stark committed fully to combat.

Each wolf in the pack represented a fragment of his very essence, rendering them immune to conventional physical attacks. Upon contact with an enemy, they could explode with devastating force, tearing apart the target's spiritual structure from within.

Such soul-based attacks were exceedingly difficult to defend against and inflicted particularly severe damage, equivalent to what gamers might call "true damage"—harm that bypassed normal defensive capabilities entirely.