However, the enemy knew it too…

"So, you plan to sacrifice yourself as bait so your comrades can escape?"

"A wise decision! Unfortunately, it's meaningless. I'll kill you shortly, then catch up to those fleeing Soul Reapers and pierce their hearts with my arrows…"

The Sternritter immediately saw through Sugimu's intention. Smirking, he drew his bow and aimed it at Sugimu.

"Burn—Hidanmaru!"

Sugimu roared, brandishing a flaming blade as he charged forward.

But it was futile.

The sky darkened with arrows—too many for him to cut down. His flames were powerless against the oncoming storm. In moments, Sugimu's body was riddled with arrows, collapsing in a pool of blood.

"Farewell, Soul Reaper."

The Sternritter stared coldly at the fallen Sugimu, drawing one final arrow to finish him off.

Shua!

The arrow whistled through the air as Sugimu shut his eyes, ready to meet death. It was a tragic end, but one he had accepted.

His only wish was that his unit could escape safely, report to their squad captains, and receive their protection.

Bang~!

Just as the fatal arrow was about to strike, a gust of wind swept across the battlefield—and the arrow was smacked aside.

Sugimu blinked against the breeze, and through his hazy vision, he saw the white haori… and the number 十一 emblazoned on the back.

"Shine—Glazed Light."

The figure who had arrived was none other than Captain Araki of the Eleventh Division. Without a word, he released his Zanpakutō. A soft green light washed over Sugimu's broken body, and color quickly returned to his pale face.

"C-Captain Araki…!"

Revived and shocked, Sugimu instinctively tried to stand and salute, only to crash down awkwardly—forgetting that half his leg was gone.

"Lie down."

Araki said coldly without looking at him. His eyes were fixed on the Quincy in front of him.

Swish, swish...

The Sternritter loosed several arrows at Araki—but they were casually slapped aside, as if swatting flies.

"Who… are you?"

The once-arrogant Sternritter began to panic. He realized he had gravely underestimated the Soul Reapers—especially the man standing before him.

"ROOM."

Araki ignored his question and activated his technique.

"W-What?!"

The Sternritter watched in horror as a translucent field enveloped him.

"What did you do to me?!"

Swish!

The light vanished.

Then—the Sternritter collapsed.

"My legs! Where are my legs?!"

He looked down and realized, in utter disbelief, that his legs had disappeared without him even noticing.

"You can get up now."

Araki said calmly to Sugimu behind him.

"My leg… it's back! My leg is back!"

Sugimu—stared in awe. He never thought his severed limb could be restored.

"Run. Head toward the Eleventh Division barracks. The other captains are already scattered across the Soul Society, hunting down Quincy. They don't have time to protect Shinigami like you, whose spiritual power is completely drained."

Because Araki had foreseen the Quincy invasion moments earlier, he used Tenjō Kura to alert all Gotei 13 captains. As a result, their response was faster than in the original timeline...

Now, the captains had mobilized their squads, and the battle to purge the Quincy from Soul Society had begun.

Of course, Araki had backup plans in place within the Eleventh Division.

"I understand, Captain Araki!"

Sugimu stood and bowed deeply.

"…Good."

Araki turned and walked toward the crippled Sternritter.

"Thank you for saving me, Captain Araki! I am Sugimu Soichiro of the Sugimu family. I vow to serve you for the rest of my life!"

Sugimu dropped to his knees, banging his head on the ground in gratitude before running off—his mission now clear: to rally the wounded and guide them to safety.

"…"

Araki said nothing in return.

He stepped up to the maimed Sternritter and asked coldly:

"Where is your emperor—Yhwach?"

"Hah… You think I'll tell you anything? You Soul Society trash… Even if I die, I—"

Splurt!

Before he could finish, the Sternritter's head burst like a melon.

"Shut up. You're not the only Quincy with a mouth."

Blood and brain matter sprayed through the air, but Araki waved it away with a flick of his Zanpakutō, a look of revulsion on his face.

Then he turned his gaze toward the battlefield, where white-clad Quincy still raged like a storm.

"ROOM!"

The enormous "transparent operating room" expanded from Araki's position, rapidly engulfing the entire battlefield at the Seireitei's western gate—Zhuwa. In the blink of an eye, silver sword light surged in all directions!

In that instant, every Quincy within the field was cleanly sliced in half by Araki's blade.

"Did… did we just get cut down?!"

"No way! I'm looking at my own lower half floating away!"

"What the hell is going on?!"

Confusion spread like wildfire—not just among the Quincies, but also the Shinigami still locked in battle. None of them could comprehend what had just occurred.

But there was no time for answers...

As the silver radiance pulsed one final time, every Quincy felt a strange pain deep in their chest—an eerie emptiness, as if something precious had been stolen from within.

Then, the glowing "operating room" began to shrink… until it silently vanished.

Those Quincies suspended in midair by Araki's power slowly descended—only to land before a horrifying sight.

"W-What the hell is that?!"

"Is this... hell?"

Before them stood a grotesque throne—constructed entirely of pulsating, beating hearts. Each one still squirmed with unnatural life.

For a moment, every Quincy felt their sanity fray. The grotesque image shattered their mental defenses. Their Sanity Points plummeted like fragile glass.

A chair made of hearts? Still alive? Still beating?

And then, a voice cut through the haze—

"Allow me to introduce myself…"

A man with short brown hair, draped in a white haori, stepped forward calmly—cradling one of the still-beating hearts in his hand.

"My name is Araki. Captain of the 11th Division of the Gotei 13. One of the leaders of the Shinigami you Quincies have slaughtered."

The Quincies, startled, immediately raised their spirit bows.

"Shinigami?!"

But Araki remained unmoved, smiling faintly. Before their eyes, he calmly crushed the heart in his hand.

Squelch.

The bright red liquid trickled from his fingers.

Thud.

A nearby Quincy clutched his chest, vomited blood, and collapsed—dead before he even hit the ground.

"W-What the hell is this?!"

Panic rippled through the ranks.

"As you've just seen… these hearts belong to you."

"Any careless move—an errant arrow, or even just an accidental twitch—and one of these hearts might rupture. And when it does… well, you saw what happens."

Araki flicked the blood from his fingers and seated himself upon the grotesque throne, completely unbothered.

"Like His Majesty Yhwach, I don't enjoy needless killing."

"So I offer you all a choice."

He raised two fingers.

"First, you can attack me… and die immediately."

"Or second… trade your comrades' heads for your own heart."

A chill swept across the battlefield.

"Don't worry. I'm quite reasonable. Five heads gets you one heart."

"But if any of you can bring me Yhwach's head… I'll return every single heart to its rightful owner."

Seated like a grim monarch atop his throne of stolen lives, Araki gave his cold decree.

"Now choose."

Visit patreon.com/ShiroTL for more chapters.