Help! I am bound to Aizen!-Chapter 223

Chapter 223

“Brat, let me show you—”

“What real power looks like!”

Under everyone’s watchful eyes, the hulking figure let out a wild grin and drew the sword in his hand.

“Crush and kill—Kiganjō!”

The instant he roared those release words, an explosive storm of Reiatsu burst from his body.

That fierce surge of spiritual energy forced many Eleventh Division members to retreat several steps.

Amid the swirling gale, the Zanpakutō in the giant’s grip emitted a bright glow, swiftly growing thicker and larger. In just moments, the one-meter blade morphed into a two-meter-plus spiked club.

It looked somewhat similar to Love Aikawa’s Shikai—yet Love’s version had a longer handle and a certain spring to it.

This “Kiganjō,” however, radiated a rigid, unyielding heft. A large metal ring dangled near the hilt, wrapped in red cloth.

With a few swishes, the man tested his club. The weapon’s terrifying weight whipped up a powerful gust around him.

Amateurs just saw spectacle, but those who understood combat recognized the deeper truth.

Observing the club’s momentum, Kaelith let out a slight exclamation of interest.

From that gust alone, it was clear the weapon was a solid chunk of iron.

By the look of it, it must weigh at least several hundred pounds.

And yet the giant was wielding it as if weightless—unreal, even for someone naturally gifted with brute strength.

So this must be the true ability of his Zanpakutō.

“Interesting.”

Kaelith tilted his neck side to side, stepping toward the giant.

As he walked, he pulled open the top of his Shihakushō, baring his torso.

“All right—show me if you’ve got what it takes to bear the Eleventh Division on your shoulders.”

Seeing that Kaelith hadn’t even unsheathed his own blade, clearly intending to fight with nothing but his bare hands, the giant’s grin widened.

“Kid, before you die, remember my name—Kiganjō! The man who’ll kill you!”

He took several heavy strides forward, spiked club held high.

When barely a few meters remained between them, he roared, swinging the weapon down with a sharp whistle—

Boom!!

A massive explosion hammered the spot where Kaelith stood.

“Got him!”

Kiganjō’s eyes lit up.

Perched on a tree branch off to the side, Hirako Shinji snorted.

Hiding in the side alley, Unohana Retsu wore a neutral expression.

The Eleventh Division members watched with bated breath as the dust billowed.

Gradually, Kaelith’s silhouette emerged through the swirling debris.

He had raised one arm, palm flat, stopping the descending spiked club cold.

Though the ground beneath his feet had fractured layer by layer, not a speck of harm clung to him—he wasn’t even dusty.

Seeing this, Kiganjō’s eyes showed genuine surprise for the first time.

His Zanpakutō’s ability was to negate weight—for himself.

That meant this six-hundred-pound iron club felt like barely ten pounds in his grip, making it easy to swing at crazy speeds. Meanwhile, to the outside world, it was still every bit as heavy.

Using this power, he’d effortlessly beaten even an Adjuchas-level Hollow.

He’d assumed this “scrawny” little Shinigami would be smashed with a single blow. Yet here the guy stood, unscathed.

In that brief moment of shock, Kiganjō bellowed and yanked the spiked club back.

Then he raised it again and began pounding down like a blacksmith driving nails.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

The huge iron bludgeon struck at a frenzied rate—faster than anyone could have believed, raining upon Kaelith in a torrent. If it weren’t a Zanpakutō, the sheer weight would have shattered it from its own force long ago.

After delivering more than a hundred vicious blows, Kiganjō smirked, lips curling into a grin.

No way you survived this time.

With a final sweep of the club, he blew aside the lingering dust.

When the air cleared, his eyes went wide.

Kaelith remained in place, utterly unchanged.

Even the ground beneath his feet was intact now. He stood enshrouded by a viscous layer of Reiatsu—an almost liquid membrane, tinged with an undercurrent of spiritual power.

Those hundred-plus strikes had all been diffused and absorbed by that swirling barrier, the energy fueling its rising “temperature.”

Kaelith sighed, looking the towering brute up and down with plain disappointment in his eyes.

“Not fun at all.”

“Huh…?”

“You could be a captain who’s weaker—if you at least found joy in battle.

But your weapon carries none of that delight.

That club of yours—it’s like an executioner’s blade, existing only to claim lives. No conviction, no passion, no artistry…”

“How do you think someone like that could become Kenpachi?”

Under Kiganjō’s stunned gaze, Kaelith raised a hand.

At once, the membrane of Reiatsu around him began to boil.

In that moment, Kiganjō felt a potent sense of danger. This small-framed Shinigami—whom he never once saw as a threat—now radiated an unmistakable aura of lethal power.

Alarmed, he prepared to fling himself forward in a desperate counterattack, but Kaelith abruptly paused.

He scratched his head.

“Mm… somehow killing you outright doesn’t feel right. I don’t like you, but slaying you without proper cause would make me… well, let’s just say I’m not trying to play the villain here.”

Kaelith glanced around, quickly spotting the trembling shopkeeper standing off at a distance, having long since abandoned his stall.

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“Hey! Boss! You called this guy ‘Plague God’ earlier—what does that mean?”

The shopkeeper froze at being addressed, then stammered, “H-he’s always snatching up food in these districts… never paying a coin. We, uh… we small vendors all call him that…”

“Oh, so he’s a thief who won’t pay for his meals? That’s a good enough reason.”

Kaelith clapped his hands together, then turned, staring pointedly in one direction.

“Friend in the tree—what do you think?”

Hirako Shinji, perched on a tall branch, twitched his lips.

Though he wasn’t precisely hiding, it still took skill to sense his presence so quickly. This brat—no wonder the Captain-Commander kept muttering about wanting him caught for labor. He really was a piece of work.

In a flash of Shunpo, Shinji dropped down beside Kaelith.

“This lump of an idiot? If you drag him back, you’ll only feel sick just looking at him—better off finishing him here.”

Kaelith nodded.

Then he raised his voice toward a dark alley not too far away:

“And to the sister hiding in that alley—ma’am, what’s your opinion?”