Capítulo 34: Devour Thyself, Ouroboros
What is a zanpakutō?
Seiya had pondered this question countless times, trying to summarize its essence.
His conclusion had never wavered.
It is a mirror, reflecting the innermost will of the Shinigami, capturing the truth and soul hidden within, and manifesting them outward.
"Find the other side of yourself."
"Engage with it. Converse with it."
"And then… accept that unlikable version of yourself."
The process wasn't particularly complicated. After all, this was the nature of Shikai.
Reflection. Introspection. Until one reconciles with their own heart. While this might seem like an insurmountable task for many ordinary Shinigami, it was a standard expectation for seated officers and lieutenants.
Seiya's spiritual pressure had already reached the level of Seventh-Class Reiryoku, meaning he had the foundational capacity—sufficient reserves and a robust body—to receive greater power.
Yet, that was where the problem lay.
At the crossroads in his dreams, Seiya had wandered endlessly, unable to glimpse his "inner self."
Was it because he wasn't doing enough?
Or was this an implicit message that he lacked something, which prevented his counterpart from appearing?
Or perhaps, deep down, he had an innate cruel streak that simply wanted to humiliate him for its own amusement?
These questions swirled in Seiya's mind for what felt like ages, leaving him frustrated and stifled.
But now, in the fleeting pause of the present moment, inspiration finally struck.
The crossroads were not a maze meant to trap him.
They were a vessel, a projection of his inner self, his truest form.
In other words, he hadn't been rejected—he had been standing on the answer all along without realizing it.
Endlessly circling. Perpetually wandering. Repeating what seemed like meaningless actions...
Much like the dreams that had haunted him these past days.
Yes.
Your name is...
"Devour thyself, Ouroboros."
Seiya silently chanted the name of his blade within his heart.
And the power that lay dormant within him stirred at last, flowing through his chest in a surging tide.
The release of his zanpakutō was unexpectedly smooth…
So much so that it could only be described as serene.
It was as if someone had tossed a small stone into the depths of a still lake. Ripples spread outward in gentle waves before the surface returned to its calm, profound stillness.
Something had changed.
And yet, simultaneously, nothing seemed to have changed at all.
Kiganjō furrowed his brow as if sensing something, but he didn't make any significant move.
No big deal. Just a mosquito's buzz, he thought dismissively.
It couldn't possibly pose a threat.
Kiganjō trusted his instincts—after all, it was by following them that he'd claimed the title of Kenpachi.
And his instincts rarely lied.
His zanpakutō swung downward with devastating force.
His reiryoku surged like a vortex, cutting through the air as it descended upon Seiya's face—where it should have landed.
Yet, in a bizarre twist, Seiya reacted as though he had anticipated the strike, moving after Kiganjō but somehow managing to act first.
Seiya drew his zanpakutō in a horizontal arc, positioning it perfectly to intercept the oncoming blow.
Clang!
The clash of metal against metal erupted with an ear-piercing screech that made even Kiganjō flinch momentarily.
He clicked his tongue in annoyance, clearly dissatisfied.
After all, he'd intended to split the kid in half like a ripe melon.
Instead, not only had the blow been deflected, but the feedback from the clash felt... off.
Something about it didn't sit right.
No, more than that—the angle at which Seiya had parried was too precise, perfectly targeting the weakest point in Kiganjō's swing.
Was it luck?
After all, despite successfully blocking the attack, Seiya's expression showed clear signs of fatigue and strain.
No tricks. No illusions.
The attack had landed, just not with the desired result.
This made the situation straightforward: if crushing the bug with one strike didn't work, then two or three would do just as well.
The outcome wouldn't change.
Recognizing this, Kiganjō wasted no time. With a slight lift of his blade, he shifted his stance, pivoting his left leg as his body twisted. He delivered a sweeping kick aimed squarely at Seiya's side.
Retreat was impossible. Evasion, unthinkable.
In that critical moment, Seiya gritted his teeth and instinctively curled into a defensive posture.
The kick connected with a thunderous impact, sending him hurtling through the air like a ragdoll.
Crash!
Seiya smashed into the wooden ceiling above, the force pinning his body awkwardly between the beams.
Pain radiated through his waist as if his ribs had been shattered.
The attack had landed cleanly, yet Kiganjō's expression grew increasingly irritated.
Having honed his skills through countless street fights and skirmishes, Kiganjō was like a butcher who could intuitively sense whether his strikes were effective.
And yet...
This time, something felt off. It was as if his kick had struck a cushion of air, dissipating much of its intended force.
The first time could have been a fluke.
The second time, though? That wasn't coincidence.
What had the kid done?
"Damn brat," Kiganjō muttered.
The lack of clarity gnawed at him, but Kiganjō wasn't one for overthinking. After a brief hesitation, he made his decision.
No matter the explanation, killing the kid was the simplest solution.
His next strike would leave no room for error.
He would unleash his full spiritual pressure, obliterating the pest in one decisive blow.
Meanwhile, on Seiya's end, his thoughts were expanding and spreading, as though he had entered a heightened state of awareness.
So much so that he temporarily forgot about the searing pain in his ribs.
"The situation has changed. The rib injury will hinder my movement."
"Adjustments must be made…"
A nameless light flickered in Seiya's eyes.
In his altered perception, the world around him lost its colors, becoming a stark realm of black and white.
The sharp contrast filtered out unnecessary details, allowing his focus to zero in on what mattered most.
Seiya could see it now.
Four azure ribbons of light radiated outward from his center, stretching rapidly in all directions.
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder