Killed For 100 Years in Hueco Mundo, Aizen Invited Me To Soul Society!

Chapter 389 - 388: The Domain That Died

The Gift Bereich had once been Askin’s masterpiece—an airless cage filled with lethal gas so concentrated that every breath became a countdown. Within it, each step was agony; every second spent inside brought one closer to collapse and death.

He had even made the atmosphere around his enemy denser—thicker, sharper, merciless—so that Ulquiorra, his chosen target, would perish faster than any ordinary being.

But in the end, what was it really?

A chamber of gas. A science experiment. A glass flask in the shape of a battlefield.

And now, that flask had shattered.

For when Mazuru’s enchantment spread, the question became meaningless. Was the Gift Bereich still useful?

The answer was no.

In Mazuru’s barrier, all rules bent to his will. The very fabric of the domain—its air, its spirit, its physics—obeyed him. Even life and death could be reversed if he chose it so.

The "lethal gas" was merely reishi—spirit particles converted into toxins through Askin’s manipulation. But reishi was reishi all the same, and within Mazuru’s enchantment, those particles were nothing but material to be rewritten.

He reached through the barrier’s structure and commanded it to devour Askin’s reishi seeds. The poison had no mind, no soul—it couldn’t resist. The field collapsed in on itself, devoured by a greater law.

The Gift Bereich self-destructed in silence.

When Askin realized it, his face drained of color.

With a single step, Mazuru had erased his ultimate technique. It wasn’t brute strength—it was domination. The effortless dismantling of a lesser creation by a superior one.

It was the power befitting the King of Hueco Mundo.

But Askin refused to accept it.

"No..." he hissed. "No, no, no!"

He raised his arm, reishi gathering at his fingertips. A brilliant Heilig Pfeil formed and shot forward instantly. The arrow streaked toward Mazuru like lightning—

—only to dissolve into red dust before reaching him.

The spiritual construct unraveled midair. No impact. No defense. Just oblivion.

Askin froze. "What the hell did you just do?!"

He didn’t understand. And that terrified him more than being outmatched.

Anger replaced fear. The wrist rings on his limbs began to pulse with power—four gleaming loops glowing violet against his skin. They expanded slightly, then spun like saws.

"This is your fault!" Askin shouted. "You should have stayed out of it!"

He flicked his arms forward. The rings detached, spinning through the air.

"Gift Ring!" (German for "Poison Realm", Japanese for "Deadly Poison Domain")

The rings shrank midflight, vanishing into nothing—and in the next instant, one reappeared directly over Mazuru’s heart.

*Puff!*

A hole opened cleanly in Mazuru’s chest, blood spilling outward. The tissue around the wound turned black and necrotic in the same moment.

Askin grinned viciously. "Got you."

The Gift Ring was one of his most lethal techniques—his single-target kill weapon. When the field failed to deliver, he could condense the same toxins into microscopic levels and channel them through the ring to attack a precise point. The heart, the head, the spine—anything hit by it would instantly decay, the cells dying at once.

Even if Mazuru possessed High-Speed Regeneration like Ulquiorra, destroying the heart should have been fatal.

And Mazuru was no hollow. He was a shinigami.

So it should have killed him.

But it didn’t.

Askin’s smile died. The wound on Mazuru’s chest began to close. The blackened skin flaked off as clean flesh reformed beneath it, smooth and whole. Within seconds, there was no trace of injury.

"Impossible..." Askin whispered.

Mazuru looked down at the place where the ring had struck, then met Askin’s eyes. His voice was calm, almost conversational.

"Is that your strongest move? Focusing everything into a single strike after your area attack fails?"

He tilted his head slightly. "It’s clever. But unfortunately for you, it doesn’t work on me."

Askin’s expression twisted into disbelief, then fury.

’How—how is he still alive?!’

Three glowing rings still encircled his other limbs. In a rage, he flung them all.

"Gift Ring! Gift Ring! Gift Ring!"

The air shimmered as the rings vanished, reappearing a heartbeat later over Mazuru’s vital points—his heart, his skull, his throat.

*Puff! Puff! Puff!*

Each strike hit. Each wound blossomed with death. And each one healed again in the blink of an eye.

The toxins failed. The decay failed. Even the concept of "lethality" seemed to slide off him.

For Mazuru, the "lethal dose" Askin so proudly calculated was nothing more than arithmetic without a sum. He didn’t resist it. He simply refused to exist within its equation.

Askin’s breathing quickened. "No... NO!"

He’d used every ring, every contingency. Nothing remained but his rage.

He screamed, raising his hands to release another blast—when suddenly a harsh voice cut across the battlefield.

"Burner Finger — Three!"

A blazing pillar of flame tore through the air, the temperature spiking so sharply that the sand melted where it passed.

Bazz-B had entered the fight.

When the Gift Bereich collapsed, everyone trapped inside had been freed—the quincies, the arrancar, even the battered Ulquiorra. Bazz-B had been watching Askin from afar, tracking his failure with growing contempt.

The moment Mazuru appeared, Bazz-B decided.

The king of Hueco Mundo was the real target now.

"Let’s see how a king burns!" Bazz-B roared, launching the inferno.

The Burner Finger — Three hit like a cannon blast, cutting through the air toward Mazuru.

But before it could reach him, crimson mist poured outward from Mazuru’s palm—thick, pulsing waves of blood energy. Layers of it.

They congealed into transparent walls.

The flames struck the first—shhrrrrk!—and punched through. The second buckled and broke. But the third held, absorbing the fire before more mist rose to envelop it.

The inferno was swallowed whole, its light dimming into red embers before vanishing entirely.

When the heat died, only the scent of iron and ash remained.

Bazz-B landed nearby, wings of reishi fluttering behind him as he invoked Hirenkyaku to close the distance. Tousen Kaname sensed the approach but did not intervene. His head turned slightly, as if confirming something.

The battle’s outcome was already written.

Perhaps, to Harribel—wounded but alive—and Grimmjow, fighting tooth and nail—the quincy had seemed unstoppable. Perhaps to Kariya Jin, still bleeding on the outskirts, they were monsters.

But to Kaname, who had just killed Mask De Masculine, they were nothing extraordinary.

’Even I can kill them.’ he thought coldly. ’For Mazuru-sama, it will take no effort.’

Bazz-B’s boots touched down beside Askin. His face was twisted in fury. Flames still danced along his fingers.

"You idiot!" he hissed at his companion. "You dragged us all into that poison pit—and for what? To die together?"

Askin didn’t answer. He could barely process what he was seeing. The wounds on Mazuru’s body were gone. The crimson barrier shimmered faintly behind him like a curtain of living light.

Bazz-B raised four fingers this time. His voice was a snarl.

"Burner Finger — Four!"

He had used it before—against Harribel—and nearly burned her to death with that single shot.

A moment of silence.

Then BOOM!

The pillar of fire erupted again, even hotter than before, roaring toward Mazuru like the wrath of a sun.

Mazuru didn’t move immediately. His expression was tranquil, analytical. He remembered the technique from the feed in the main hall of Las Noches—he had watched Bazz-B use it, studied its rhythm.

So this time, he responded in kind.

A blade of pure blood formed in his hand—curved, elegant, alive. With a single motion, he swung it downward.

*Flash!*

A crescent of crimson light burst forth, colliding with the incoming inferno. The two forces met midair.

Then—

*BOOOOOM!*

The explosion tore through the desert. The ground melted into molten glass. The air itself rippled like liquid.

The temperature spiked so sharply that even Kaname flinched, his senses screaming with heat. For an instant, it felt like the world had fallen into the heart of a volcano.

More than a year ago, he had experienced something similar. The overwhelming heat of Ryūjin Jakka’s Bankai — Zanka no Tachi.

Bazz-B’s fire burned hotter than most flames. Hotter than the Shikai Ryūjin Jakka, perhaps.

But it was not that flame.

It was not the fire that turned existence to ash.

*****

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✓ Killed For 100 Years in Hueco Mundo, Aizen Invited Me To Soul Society!

✓ Naruto: Senmei Asahi

✓ Naruto: Uchiha’s Intelligence Dealer

✓ Naruto: The Fifth Hokage Is Naruto’s Uncle

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