CHAPTER 366: CHAPTER 366: CREATION AGAINST DESTRUCTION

Perhaps it was because of that moment in the desert—when Mazuru reminded Kyouraku Shunsui of the looming threat—that he himself started to feel the weight of time pressing down.

He didn’t know the exact plot of the "Thousand-Year Blood War" from the original work. Since he had never read the manga, many specific details were lost to him. But what he did know was the approximate timing of the war’s outbreak. Based on what he remembered, it seemed to begin roughly a year or so after the conclusion of the Karakura Town arc—likely after the events of the anime.

Because of this, Mazuru had already begun observing the World of the Living, searching for any sign of Yhwach and the Sternritter, the feared group of full-blooded quincies. But no matter how closely he watched, no matter how many strings he pulled, not even a whisper of their presence emerged.

Still, he never let down his guard.

Originally, in his calculations for the potential war ahead, he hadn’t considered the value of Kenpachi Azashiro. After all, this was a man who had been imprisoned for over two centuries. Who would expect such a man to not only escape Muken on his own, but also emerge with enough power to stand against present-day captains?

But after observing Kenpachi Azashiro, Mazuru found himself reconsidering.

Even if the man had lost—first to himself, and later to Zaraki Kenpachi—that did not make him weak. On the contrary, the very fact that he survived after centuries of incarceration, and could still put up a fierce fight against modern-day Kenpachi, spoke volumes.

There was power here. Unrefined. Hardened by isolation.

"The Invisible Empire?"

Kenpachi Azashiro narrowed his eyes. It was clear from his expression that he had never heard that name before.

Mazuru then took his time explaining the origins of the empire hidden in the shadows—about the Quincy King Yhwach, and the war that nearly toppled the Soul Society a thousand years ago. He laid out the signs, the patterns, the looming crisis that threatened to repeat history.

When he was done, Kenpachi Azashiro raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

"So you’re telling me, you, a self-proclaimed traitor of the Soul Society, are worried about its survival?"

It was hard to argue with the logic. If the Soul Society were to fall, wouldn’t that be a boon for Mazuru? Wouldn’t he, King of Hueco Mundo, just benefit from their destruction?

He could have simply waited—allowed the quincy and shinigami to annihilate one another—and seized the spoils from the shadows.

But Mazuru only looked back at him and asked a simple question.

"Do you think the Gotei 13 today is stronger or weaker than it was a thousand years ago?"

Though Kenpachi Azashiro was not from that ancient era, he had served as a captain more than two centuries ago. He didn’t hesitate to respond.

"The Soul Society hasn’t progressed at all. It’s stagnant. Rotting beneath tradition."

Mazuru gave a slow nod. "Exactly. That’s the crux of the issue. For all their long lifespans, the shinigami haven’t evolved. Their captains rotate constantly. The strength of their military doesn’t grow—it regresses."

He paused, eyes narrowing.

"And while they’ve been floundering, the quincy have been correcting. Preparing. Waiting."

Mazuru’s voice dropped to a low intensity, like distant thunder.

"I can’t afford to leave the Soul Society’s fate in their own hands. I can’t bet on a decaying army to stand against a thousand years of vengeance. And more importantly—"

He glanced toward the horizon, as if peering through time itself.

"—if the Soul Society is destroyed entirely, how do I build the new order I desire?"

Kenpachi Azashiro chuckled dryly. "So this is about rebuilding the world in your image."

There was no denial.

Mazuru was transparent about his ambition. He didn’t seek destruction for destruction’s sake. He sought to replace the old order. Not with chaos—but with structure, one crafted on his own terms.

Kenpachi Azashiro considered this carefully.

"So you want to recruit me?"

"I’m asking." Mazuru replied calmly, "Whether you’d join me."

Azashiro folded his arms, the blood on his haori still drying. "I once tried to turn the Rukongai into weapons and planned to alter the World of the Living, cut off the source of the hollows. Do you plan to do the same to the Soul Society?"

Mazuru didn’t flinch.

"The old order must be replaced. It is inevitable."

Kenpachi Azashiro gave a sardonic grin. "I hate hollows. That’s all there is to it. And you? You’re their king."

Even so, his refusal wasn’t laced with outrage. There was no moral rebuke. He didn’t storm off or draw his blade. And that, to Mazuru, meant there was still room to talk.

For the time being, Kenpachi Azashiro remained in Las Noches. He didn’t return to the Soul Society. Having emerged from Muken after centuries of confinement, he wanted to see what had changed—both in Hueco Mundo and the living world.

The Soul Society? He had already seen everything it had to offer. There were no more secrets left in the Seireitei for him.

...

Back in the Seireitei—within the First Division barracks—the captains of the Gotei 13 had gathered.

Aside from the Third Division, which remained without a captain, all others were present.

"So you’re saying that Kenpachi Azashiro has aligned with him?"

Shunsui’s report stirred unease among the room’s veterans.

Yamamoto Genryusai Shigekuni’s voice dropped to an icy calm, though the fury burning underneath was unmistakable. "Rebellious to the end."

Unohana Retsu let out a quiet sigh. "Troublesome, one after another..."

Even after hearing that Zaraki Kenpachi had defeated the man in battle, the captains remained tense. This was no ordinary rogue.

This was a man who once bore the name "Kenpachi".

A captain’s meeting was held, yet it yielded no decisive conclusion.

With Kenpachi Azashiro and Kyo Mazuru acting in tandem, the Soul Society faced a renewed threat. The missions to subdue either one had now become indistinguishable—they had merged into a single, daunting challenge.

To strike at Mazuru, they would have to invade Hueco Mundo again.

And did the Soul Society truly have the strength for that? After barely surviving the battle in Karakura Town a year ago?

The captains left the room, one by one, each weighed down by that same unspoken doubt.

Shunsui, however, lingered behind.

Yamamoto turned to him, recognizing the hesitation in his former student’s eyes. The old man narrowed his gaze.

"You have something else to say, Shunsui?"

Shunsui’s gaze was distant, troubled.

Because he remembered.

He remembered what Mazuru had said in the desert.

And what worried him most was that—deep down—he believed every word.

*****

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