Chapter 25

*Zaraki Kenpachi's POV*

The smell of blood was thick in the air, sharp, metallic, and intoxicating. It clung to everything, soaked the ground beneath my feet, and painted the sky crimson as the sun dipped low on the horizon. I could hear the cries of the dying, the clashing of steel against steel, the thud of bodies hitting the dirt. And through it all, there was that rush, the one that always comes when you're standing on a battlefield, surrounded by enemies, your heart pounding in your chest, your body screaming for more.

I grinned, wide and wild.

The elves had come in force, an army of them stretching across the plains, their elegant armour glinting in the fading light. Their pointed ears and delicate features didn't match the brutality they fought with, though. They had magic like lightning bolts, fireballs, all that fancy stuff. But none of it mattered. Not when you were up against us.

Ahead of me, Yamamoto's flames roared, swallowing entire swaths of elves like they were nothing more than firewood. His Zanpakutō, Ryūjin Jakka, burned hotter than anything I'd ever seen, a sea of fire that devoured everything in its path. The old man moved slowly, methodically, like he was barely breaking a sweat, but there was a kind of fury in his eyes, a fury that made the flames burn even hotter.

To my right, the old menace was cutting through their ranks with that calm, eerie smile of hers. Her movements were so smooth, so perfect. She looked like she was gliding across the battlefield, every slash of her blade precise, every strike lethal. Blood sprayed in arcs as her sword found its mark again and again. Her eyes, cold and calculating, flicked across the battlefield as if she were assessing which of these poor bastards was going to die next.

Yachiru sat perched on my shoulder, giggling to herself as she watched the carnage unfold. She loved this just as much as I did or maybe even more. She kicked her legs happily, swinging them back and forth like she didn't have a care in the world. Every now and then, she'd point out some unlucky fool trying to make a run for it.

"Kenny! Look, that one's trying to run away!"

She said, her voice singing and gleeful.

"Not for long."

I kicked off the ground, the earth cracking beneath my feet, and launched myself forward, charging headlong into the mass of elves. They scattered as I came, their eyes wide with terror. They'd heard about Soul Society, of course. They knew who I was, and who we were, especially after both I and the sick captain visited them. And it didn't matter. It never mattered. They all ended up the same in the end, torn apart, broken and bleeding at my feet. They are boring and too weak.

I swung my huge sword, Nozarashi, in a wide arc, and the blade cut through their armour like it was paper. Blood sprayed in every direction, coating me, and drenching the ground. The weight of my sword was familiar and comfortable, but there was no need for finesse. Not here. This was a slaughter, pure and simple. And I loved every second of it.

An elf with a glowing sword most likely a captain or a general, came at me, his face twisted in rage. He shouted something in that flowery language of theirs I didn't bother to even try understanding. There is nothing to talk about, we came here to kill each other so why talk? He swung his blade in a desperate attempt to cut me down. I barely moved, just stepped to the side and let his sword skim past me. He was fast, I'd give him that. Faster than the rest.

But not fast enough.

I brought Nozarashi down in a brutal, overhead swing, and his sword shattered on impact. His eyes widened, just for a moment, before my blade cleaved through him, splitting him in two from head to toe. He didn't even have time to scream before he hit the ground in pieces.

Another group of elves tried to rush me from the side, their arrows flying through the air, enchanted with magic. They thought they could take me by surprise, and overwhelm me with numbers. I laughed again, the sound echoing across the battlefield, and spun Nozarashi in a wild, chaotic arc. The arrows shattered on contact, the elves behind them torn apart in a spray of blood and broken limbs.

This was it. This was what I lived for. The chaos, the bloodlust, the sheer joy of battle.

"Kenny, you're having so much fun!"

"There's plenty to go around, Yachiru! Take your pick!"

She hopped off my shoulder with a laugh, darting into the fray like a little blur of pink, her tiny hands slicing through armour and flesh with ease. She wasn't as big as me, but she was just as deadly. Maybe even deadlier.

I could feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins, my reiatsu flaring out in wild waves. The elves closest to me started to panic, their eyes wide with fear. They knew they were outmatched. Their magic couldn't save them. Their numbers meant nothing. They were just more bodies to cut down.

But that didn't stop them from trying. I could respect their lack of fear and sheer determination.

An elf mage, dressed in flowing robes and chanting something under his breath, tried to throw a fireball my way. I felt the heat of it as it shot toward me, but I didn't bother dodging it. It crashed into my chest and exploded, flames licking up my skin, but I barely felt it. I looked down at the charred remains of my Shihakusho, and then up at the mage, who was staring at me like he'd just seen a ghost.

"Nice try, but you'll have to hit a lot harder than that."

Before he could react, I was already on him. One swing of Nozarashi, and he was gone, reduced to a spray of blood and flesh. I didn't even bother looking back.

And Unohana... she was the woman I admired. The way she moved, it was almost... elegant. Her blade, Minazuki, cut through her enemies with a grace that seemed out of place on a battlefield like this. But there was nothing gentle about her. No, Unohana's smile was cold, her eyes gleaming with a kind of hunger I hadn't seen in a long time. The way she enjoys the slaughter and more.

I couldn't help but laugh. This was what we were born to do. To fight, to kill, to stand on top of a mountain of corpses and revel in it.

An elf soldier came at me from behind, his spear aimed at my back. I didn't even turn around. I just swung my blade backwards, and his body crumpled to the ground in two pieces.

"Kenpachi Zaraki"

I heard a voice say, clear and strong, cutting through the noise of battle.

I turned to see an elf standing a few paces away, his armour was more ornate than the rest, his face calm. He was tall, for an elf, and there was something about the way he held himself that told me he was their leader, or at least someone important. As to how does he know my name it's obvious. He was one of the elves we met during the talks some time ago.

He raised his sword, an elegant thing, glowing with some kind of magic and pointed it at me.

I grinned, feeling the familiar surge of excitement. Finally, someone worth killing.

He moved fast, faster than I expected. His sword came at me in a blur of light, and I actually had to take it a little seriously to bring Nozarashi up to block it. The impact sent a shockwave through the air, and for a moment, I could feel the strength behind his blows. He was good. Real good.

But I am better.

I pushed him back, swinging Nozarashi in a wide arc. He dodged, just barely, and came at me again, his strikes precise, controlled. I could see the focus in his eyes, the determination. He wasn't like the others. He wasn't afraid.

Good. Fear made things boring.

We clashed again, the force of our blows sending sparks flying through the air. His sword glowed brighter with every strike, but I could feel him starting to falter. He was fast, but he didn't have the raw power to keep up with me. Each hit sent him stumbling back a little more, each block came a little slower.

"You're not bad."

I said, laughing as I swung Nozarashi down in a crushing blow.

He managed to block the strike, but the force of it sent him crashing to the ground, his sword shattering in his hand. He looked up at me, his eyes wide, and for the first and the last time, I saw the fear in them as my slash connected killing him.