This scene filled the gathered Shinigami with mounting terror.
So this Hollow… was the monster secretly responsible for nearly two hundred missing souls in the Rukongai?
Watching as their once-revered seated officers fell helplessly, witnessing familiar comrades have portions of their very souls devoured, fear began to truly take root and spread among the Shinigami ranks.
They would die.
Run!
The only option was to flee!
But then, a voice rang out—gentle yet unwavering.
"Shinigamis, grip your Zanpakutō tightly! The former Captain of the Tenth Division fell in battle with honor. Would you now turn your backs before this Hollow and let the Tenth Division become the laughingstock of all of Seireitei?"
Under the astonished gazes of his comrades, Makoto, clad in the uniform of the Fourth Division, stepped forward. He moved as if a lone hero walking against the light, his voice fervent and resolute.
"To flee, is abandoning your seated officers… to run from the responsibility you bear… to desert the powerless residents of Rukongai—does that not shame us as Shinigami far more than death itself?"
"Do not fear! Look ahead without hesitation. Worry not for your wounds. To embrace death while upholding our honor and duty is the ultimate glory of the Shinigami!"
"As a member of the Fourth Division, I swear this: as long as I draw breath, I will heal each of you to the very last moment!"
Makoto's impassioned words reverberated through the battlefield. Slowly, the terror in the eyes of the Tenth Division members began to dissipate, replaced by guilt, fervor, and newfound determination.
At that moment, two Tenth Division members who had earlier been struck down with collapsed chests staggered to their feet. Though the wounds on their torsos were still visible, they stood ready to fight once more.
Meanwhile, the grievously injured Seventh and Nineteenth Seats, who had been sprawled helplessly on the ground, also began to rise. Both the Hollow and the Shinigami looked on in disbelief.
As the green tendrils of healing energy receded from their legs, their wounds appeared to have stopped bleeding entirely—achieved in mere moments.
"Makoto is right. The Tenth Division cannot disgrace itself before the Fourth Division!"
Fixing his gaze firmly on the Adjuchas-class Hollow, the Nineteenth seat, Kujo Taimei, called out loudly. "Thank you, Makoto. As expected of Captain Unohana's disciple, your healing abilities are astounding. This time, I won't make the same mistake."
With Taimei and the seventh Seat standing tall once more, Makoto's rousing words reignited the morale of the entire Tenth Division.
If even a Fourth Division healer refused to flee, how could the Tenth Division abandon their ground?
Makoto's extraordinary display of healing prowess infused the Shinigami with a profound sense of hope.
"Use Bakudō! Our spiritual power isn't strong enough to damage a Hollow of this level, but if we restrain it with enough Bakudō, holding out until the captains arrive will secure our victory!"
The Seventh Seat, his hair tinged with streaks of yellow and glasses perched firmly on his nose, gave his command with a commanding presence, exuding the resolve of a true warrior.
In a flash, his figure darted forward, swiftly snatching the Tenth Division's Third Seat from the tail of the Adjuchas. Without hesitation, they flung the wounded officer toward Makoto's direction.
"The Third Seat is in your hands, Makoto-kun!"
"Don't worry. As long as I'm alive, I won't let death claim you all!"
Makoto, who had unknowingly retreated to the back of the formation, called out loudly. From the grass beneath their feet, a dozen verdant vines sprouted rapidly, wrapping around the injured Third Seat mid-air. A soft green radiance emanated from the vines, casting a warm light over the heads of the Tenth Division members and igniting a surge of determination in their hearts.
In that moment, despite the overwhelming threat of the Adjuchas, every member of the Tenth Division felt as though a gentle yet firm support stood unwaveringly behind them, boosting their courage and resolve to fight on.
Senju Makoto
At this instant, the name "Senju Makoto" was deeply etched into the hearts of every Tenth Division member.
The courage of a seemingly fragile healer to face the Adjuchas head-on, the steadfastness to remain on the battlefield and save lives, and the tender compassion in treating injuries—these traits of Senju Makoto left an indelible mark.
"We… we absolutely cannot let Makoto-kun down!"
"We're the Tenth Division! How can we run away?!"
"A mere Adjuchas!"
Amidst the burning fighting spirit of the surrounding Shinigami, Makoto maintained an outward appearance of gentleness and resolve, though his heart was heavy with concern.
If this had been a typical Adjuchas, Makoto might have already urged the others to scatter and retreat, advocating: "Rather than making a meaningless sacrifices, it's better to live on shamefully. Endure the humiliation for the sake of greater responsibilities as Shinigami. Live on, bearing that shame, until the time comes when you can make a difference."
However, the presence of this Adjuchas was riddled with peculiarities in Makoto's eyes. Its behavior in consuming souls seemed almost deliberate, as if it had come to the Rukongai to take the blame for something else.
If everyone scattered and fled, there was no telling what other dangers might be lurking nearby. They might simply fall prey, one by one.
In such a perilous and uncertain situation, keeping everyone together was practically safer.
After all, for now, as long as the inspired members of the Tenth Division fought without falling entirely, Makoto himself should remain safe.
As Makoto contemplated, chants of binding spells began to echo across the battlefield. The Tenth Division's Seventh Seat, alongside Kujo Taimei, who had barely recovered, launched another attempt to restrain the Adjuchas.
"Bakudō #30: Shitotsu Sansen!"
"Bakudō #37: Tsuriboshi!"
"Bakudō #61: Rikujōkōrō!"
A cascade of binding spells descended upon the Adjuchas, forming layers of invisible spiderwebs over its massive frame. The vast difference in spiritual pressure rendered these restraints tenuous at best, as the Adjuchas shattered them with each casual struggle.
Yet, under the relentless barrage of binding spells from over thirty Shinigami, the Adjuchas appeared trapped in an unnervingly oppressive mire, its movements increasingly impeded.
"Ants! A swarm of ants should know their place and let their souls be devoured obediently. You… have enraged me!"
The Adjuchas roared in fury, its massive body rampaging wildly under the weight of the restraints.
Despite the binding layers, the Adjuchas' speed remained terrifying. With each sweep of its limbs, a Tenth Division member would be sent flying, unable to evade in time.
Meanwhile, Makoto skillfully maintained a safe distance from the Adjuchas, his hands weaving continuous healing energy into the battlefield. The verdant light of his All-Encompassing Creation spell covered the wounded, restoring them to fighting shape.
In this grueling tug-of-war, Tenth Division members fell one after another, only to rise again under Makoto's tireless healing. The battlefield seemed to stabilize at a constant force of twenty-odd Shinigami, all working together to hold the Adjuchas at bay.
"Everyone… hold on! Victory lies in persistence…"
Makoto's gentle yet unwavering voice rang out at intervals, inspiring the Tenth Division members to grit their teeth and press forward.
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