Shinigami in the Ninja World (Re-upload)

Bazz-B laughed wildly, his mouth wide open as he raised his medallion high.

He had thought... this calm-looking boy would be smart. But now, it seemed he was quite foolish.

Chanting words with a high and confident tone, the medallion glowed with a blue light. Yet as the wind blew and the clouds shifted, the technique that should have worked... had no effect.

Tōshirō Hitsugaya squinted at his sword, his eyes indifferent. "If I didn't have complete confidence, why would I use 'Bankai'?"

"Your ability to steal 'Bankai'... it's useless now. It's been neutralized!"

Bazz-B snorted, carelessly tossing the medallion, watching it roll into a crack between the stones and disappear. "No wonder. I was wondering why you were so recklessly confident. It only took a few days, and you've already found a way to break this ability."

Tōshirō narrowed his eyes, shaking his head coldly. "Reckless? I don't know how you reached that conclusion. Is it because we look so beaten?"

Bazz-B tilted his head, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "Isn't that enough?"

"But we only 'look' beaten." Tōshirō swung his sword, and the skies responded. Dark clouds gathered, cold winds blew, and in the blink of an eye, moisture froze into crystals, falling like pale snow. Four ice flowers bloomed behind him. "You've been planning for a thousand years, while we knew nothing about you. Isn't it only natural that we'd be a bit overwhelmed?"

Bazz-B was a little surprised to hear such an admission. Tōshirō was calm. That's the primary quality of a 'Captain'—to be objective and rational, even setting aside one's identity to see the bigger picture.

Only then can you accurately assess the situation, weigh the advantages and disadvantages, and find a breakthrough.

For most Shinigami, the events of the past few days had been catastrophic. Captains had been severely wounded. Several vice-captains were still in life-and-death limbo. Many soldiers were killed... it looked like they were trapped in a desperate situation.

But Tōshirō had stepped back to examine recent developments. Was the Soul Society truly at a disadvantage? Perhaps not.

The Quincy's greatest weapon against the Shinigami had been undone by Mayuri. Although the losses among the lower-ranked Shinigami were indeed severe, with the 1st Division essentially dismantled, the high-level combat forces remained relatively unscathed. The captains were injured... but some had gone to the Royal Palace for further training, while others, like Sajin Komamura and Kenpachi Zaraki, as well as Tōshirō himself, stayed behind in the Soul Society, honing their skills. And, of course, there was the involvement of the Royal Guard.

The Soul Society's forces only 'seemed' weak compared to the Wandenreich. In Tōshirō's mind, the Soul Society had the upper hand. And with the new information they had, it was now an absolute advantage.

"Guncho Tsurara!" ('Icicle Flock!')

Despite its name, what Tōshirō released with a swing of his blade was not a flock of birds, but rather massive, solid ice bullets. They flew swiftly and heavily, like a sudden downpour, raining down on Bazz-B.

With a roar, flames erupted from the mohawk-wearing Quincy as he swung his arm, sending waves of fire crashing forward. The ice was instantly melted upon contact, turning to water for a brief moment before evaporating into steam, a pale mist dissipating into the air.

"Ice?" Bazz-B whistled, growing even cockier. "That's useless against me!"

Tōshirō ignored him and continued swinging his blade. The clash of ice and fire filled the dark, quiet space with chaos and agitation. And this was just the beginning…

The shadows continued to shift. Dozens of Quincy began emerging, led by seven or eight commanders.

"Only one exit," remarked a Quincy encased in steel armor with a long white robe draped over him. "But…"

Before he could comment on the perceived weakness of their enemies' defenses, spiritual pressures from all sides began converging.

War… it's the most brutal, most merciless word. Behind those characters lay countless sacrifices. The Soul Society had been through many wars already. Turmoil, unease, numbness... these were the mental scars that weighed heavily on the minds of the Shinigami.

But from the current situation, it was clear that because of their experience in battle, those Shinigami who had survived past wars had developed exceptional combat skills. They stayed vigilant, positioned all across the Seireitei, carrying out their duties. When the order came, they were able to respond immediately, gathering at the designated locations with speed and precision.

The 7th and 2nd Divisions were the fastest to arrive, especially the 7th.

Soi Fon leaped onto a pile of ruins, crouching and squinting her eyes. "Only... seven commanders?"

Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi hovered beside her, standing in midair. "It doesn't look like there will be any more."

"Indeed… just the vanguard. But isn't sending this small a force underestimating us?"

Soi Fon shook her head. "Naruto's departure for the Royal Palace must not have escaped their notice. With Naruto gone... and considering our performance the other day…"

Her temper had calmed down significantly from before. She was no longer as rash or impulsive. Though, at times, she still couldn't quite restrain herself.

"It's true, but it's still annoying," Rōjūrō said as he drew his sword, eyeing one of the enemies. "We're not exactly weak."

Soi Fon focused on one of the commanders. "I'll take that arrogant woman," she said, drawing her blade and instantly releasing it into a stinger-like short blade hooked around her finger. "She seems like my type."

Rōjūrō nodded indifferently. "Choosing your own opponent?"

"Very well... I'll pick someone easy to handle."

He turned his gaze toward a small girl with the same hair color as his own. She appeared the least threatening. The other captains who had arrived also selected their targets.

This time was different from the last... The Quincies had not appeared out of nowhere—they had been tracked. The initiative... had shifted! Now it was in the hands of the Soul Society. At least, for the time being, the advantage seemed to be theirs.

Mayuri said nothing, having arrived at the same time as Soi Fon, though it was another one of his clones, not the real him. His clone's spiritual pressure was lower than even a seated officer, so it wasn't qualified to participate in such a high-level battle. He observed from the sidelines.

These Quincies were strong enough to give the captains a decent fight. But that wasn't important. Overcoming the Shinigami's defenses and traps? They didn't have the strength.

It seemed the first attack had given them a false impression—aside from Naruto, everyone else had held back, making the Quincies believe the Shinigami were easy to deal with. Or perhaps... this was just another test?

He pondered.

With a slash of his blade, Tōshirō collapsed the ice, burying Bazz-B and his bright mohawk beneath it.

"So weak," Tōshirō stood in the air, his gaze cold and emotionless, his voice as frosty and unfeeling as ice itself. "Only capable of showing some strength when we were in the dark. And now that you can't hide, is this all you have left?"

He didn't release his 'Bankai', but instead tilted his head, ready to join another battlefield. This wasn't a duel. It was war. A duel requires fairness—an exchange where both sides take turns. War doesn't need fairness; it's about survival. No matter the means—noble or dishonorable—only the survivor is the victor.

He turned his blade.

But beneath the ice, flames flickered back to life. The ice slowly melted, and Bazz-B's mohawk, still standing proudly despite the water soaking it, swayed back and forth. "Well, well... as expected of a 'Bankai'. But this level of ice is nothing—just a little effort, and it's gone."

Tōshirō's sharp eyes focused on him. Not buried alive?

"For such a small guy, you've got some serious power." Bazz-B climbed out, brushing ice off his shoulders. "Looks like I'll have to get serious."

Tōshirō's voice lowered, "Serious?"

Bazz-B raised a single finger. "Sealing a Shinigami's 'Bankai'—do you think that ability... is powerful?"

Tōshirō didn't answer, only nodded slightly.

Powerful? Of course, it's powerful. To seal away a Shinigami's ultimate weapon was something they could never have imagined before.

"This power comes at a price," Bazz-B stepped out of the ice, standing on the frost-covered ruins. "If we want to seal your 'Bankai', we have to give up a part of our own strength. And that power... how should I explain it so you can understand?"

He paused, thinking it over. His expressions shifted as if he were taunting and toying with Tōshirō. Bazz-B snapped his fingers, and a small spark of flame danced on his fingertip.

"Well then... the power we give up is equivalent to your 'Bankai'. We sacrifice part of our strength to seal part of yours. Seems fair, doesn't it?"

Tōshirō was momentarily stunned. At this point, he wasn't concerned with the mechanics behind stealing 'Bankai'—Mayuri had already created a 'hollowfication drug,' rendering the ability ineffective against them.

What concerned him was... the Quincies had a power that rivaled 'Bankai'?

Even the Arrancars' 'Resurrección' only compared to 'Shikai'. Mayuri's eyes lit up with a thoughtful gleam.

Bazz-B raised his hand, his index finger engulfed in flame. Blue spiritual particles swirled around him. Gradually, a five-pointed star-shaped light appeared above his head, and behind him, long, root-like wings unfolded. A massive pillar of light shot up into the sky, marking him as the center, casting a massive target into the heavens.

"This is it! This is our true form."

Seeing him unleash his power, the other Quincies followed suit, activating the same ability. Though the forms varied slightly... most of them had wings unfurling behind them, giving them an angelic and divine appearance.

"I've done some research on you Quincies." Mayuri approached the edge of the battlefield, speaking not just to the Quincies but also to his fellow Shinigami. "This form... is it something you evolved in the past two centuries?"

Bazz-B narrowed his eyes, staring at the painted-faced scientist.

Mayuri continued, "As far as I know, Quincies did possess a final form. And that form indeed boosted their power to levels comparable to 'Bankai'. But... the price was that you'd lose the ability to use spiritual power forever, giving up your identity as a Quincy."

Bazz-B chuckled. "Really? Interesting. Since you're so curious, I don't mind explaining it to you defeated losers. At least then you'll know what exactly you're up against."

He paused, raising his arms high. The root-like wings behind him were smaller than his comrades' but still glowed with intense heat.

"Vollständig. It's nothing like the old final form you're talking about. We can use it whenever we want, and it doesn't strain our bodies. We can keep using it for as long as we wish."

Bazz-B pointed his finger at Tōshirō. "With this power, even with just a few of us, we can wipe you all out. Where's Naruto Uzumaki? Why haven't we seen him yet? Does he think we're not worthy of his attention? Well then, once I kill you, he'll have to show up."

Tōshirō raised his sword. But in that split second... Bazz-B moved.

"Burning Finger 1."

The name of his technique was simple, even childish, as if a kid were playing a game. But behind that innocent name lay overwhelming and terrifying flames. The air itself bent under the intense speed, immense force, and razor-sharp reflexes of his attack.

Tōshirō barely managed to block, ice forming a protective barrier around him. The flames hit. With a deafening explosion, smoke billowed and waves of heat surged.

"As expected, one finger isn't enough." Bazz-B taunted, raising two fingers this time. "So... how about I use three fingers now?"

Tōshirō frowned, bracing himself. These flames far surpassed those of the former 10th Division Captain, Isshin Shiba's Zanpakutō.

With the Quincies now revealing their 'Vollständig', the tide of the battle subtly shifted. Though the Quincies hadn't yet overtaken the Shinigami, the war, which had started as one-sided, was now evening out, with neither side gaining a clear advantage.

In the skies above, at the Royal Palace, Naruto watched as Ōetsu Nimaiya's forging neared its conclusion.