BLEACH: UNOHANA RETSU IS MY WIFE

"Soul King, wait for me!"

Yhwach stood quietly upon the ruins, his gaze locked on the distant Soul King Palace hovering in the skies above the Soul Society.

As the son of the great Soul King, Yhwach had never forgotten his mission. He was born to replace the Soul King—to become the new "True God" of the Three Realms!

And when he finally ascended to the Soul King Palace, absorbing the residual powers of his father and becoming a true deity, he would accomplish what even the original Soul King had failed to do—before he was reduced to a wedge, sacrificed by five despicable traitors to stabilize the Three Realms.

Yet, even the so-called invincible Yhwach ultimately misunderstood the Soul King's will.

What Yhwach interpreted as "replacement"... was far different from what the Soul King himself had envisioned.

East Gate of the Seireitei — Blue Stream Gate

Since Chojiro Sasakibe's Tenjou Sora resonated in the hearts of all the Gotei 13 captains, each division had sprung into action...

"Huh? Even Captain Yamamoto—who set out after Araki—has already wiped out all enemy forces in his sector?!"

"Damn it! That means our Sixth Division is falling way behind!"

Saito Furobushi's twin ponytails bobbed in the wind as she stood defiantly before an army of Quincy soldiers, raising her voice in anxious frustration.

"Forget about earning glory in this war or making a name for ourselves! At this rate, we'll be lucky if old man Yama doesn't give us hell by the end of this!"

Quincies eyed the strange woman before them. Dressed in a white-feathered captain's hat and clearly… off, she didn't exactly scream "threat."

"Hey, is this one really okay?"

"She's the captain of the Sixth Squad? Seriously? I guess captain-level Shinigami aren't as tough as we thought—"

Their mocking ended abruptly.

Swish!

A sudden gleam of steel—no, blood-red light—flashed before them. Before they could even release their arrows, their bow-drawing hands spiraled into the sky.

"AHHH! My hand! My bow hand!"

"My arm! What the hell?!"

Agonized cries tore through the battlefield.

"Filthy pests! There's too many of you! Crawling around like cockroaches! That's why I'm behind Araki and the Captain-Commander! Now hurry up and DIE, DIE, DIE!"

Saito Furobushi's blade danced—no, raged—through the swarm of Quincy. Like a purple lightning bolt, she cut a vicious path, slicing down soldiers in bloody arcs.

Heads flew like paper lanterns into the sky, and bodies—decapitated and lifeless—crashed down like broken dolls, painting the battlefield crimson.

"Not enough! Still not enough! FASTER!"

With each swing, her speed increased. Her blade blurred. Her rage boiled over.

Minutes passed…

By now, the pristine white haori of the Sixth Division was drenched in red. Saito no longer remembered how many Quincy lives she'd taken. She didn't care.

She had no time to count corpses.

No one counts how many pieces of bread they eat in the morning.

As long as there were Quincies still breathing—

She had to keep killing.

"Ahhh! I'm getting irritated! You! Tell me how many are left! Give me a number!"

More red light. More Quincy fell.

Standing atop a field of corpses, surrounded by silence and death, Saito demanded answers. But none came.

The few Quincies who remained stared at her in horror.

She wasn't human. She wasn't Shinigami.

To them…

Saito Furobushi was a demon. A blood-drenched reaper from hell.

"GO TO HELL, YOU DAMN LUNATIC!!"

Just as Saito stood atop a sea of blood, even his idle gaze sent shivers down the spines of the nearby Quincies!

A Quincy in a white knight-style uniform, tightly gripping a Reishi blade, charged directly at Saito.

"Looking to die?!"

Saito licked his lips, a cruel glint in his eye as he raised his weapon to strike down the bold attacker.

Pah~!

Before Saito could move, a shadow flashed beside him—and struck first!

With only the faintest sound, the figure revealed itself: a man with short, dark purple hair, bronzed skin, and a white feathered team crest matching Saito's own.

He didn't draw a Zanpakutō, nor did he use any extravagant Kidō. Instead, he used raw strength. With a single, brutal kick, he crushed the Quincy's neck on the spot.

"Shihouin Chihiro? So, you showed up..."

Saito curled his lip in annoyance as he addressed the newcomer.

"Why? You don't look too thrilled to see me~"

The man smirked playfully. He was none other than Shihouin Chihiro, the leader of the Second Division.

He casually shook blood from his foot, then turned and gave Saito a helpless shrug.

"Tsk~" Saito clicked his tongue and asked, "With everything happening in the Seireitei, you, the head of the Shihouin family, have time to run around like this? You sure about that?"

"I've handed the family affairs off to my younger brother! I'm just the acting head now—feels great to be free~"

Chihiro replied with a carefree grin, clearly unbothered by responsibilities.

His nonchalant approach to leadership—shrugging off duties when it suited him—was reminiscent of the future behavior of Yoruichi Shihouin, the most iconic member of the Shihouin clan.

"You two can stop chatting now. The captain's calling."

A calm voice cut through the air, followed by flashes of silver light. In an instant, several Quincy fell, their blood trailing behind the long, elegant blade of a naginata.

She was a woman whose voluptuous figure turned heads simply by standing still—her movements as deadly as they were graceful. With cold eyes and no expression, she struck again.

To her, killing a Quincy was no more troubling than crushing an ant.

"Shikatari Kadori… you too?"

Saito narrowed his eyes. More and more hunters were showing up to steal her kills. She needed to act quickly to secure her own achievements.

"Time's short. You take the left. I'll go right."

"Fine by me."

With that, Chihiro and Saito moved as one—two blurs streaking across the battlefield like twin blades of death.

In a flash, the tide turned. Quincies were cut down mercilessly. Their corpses piled higher and higher, forming a blood-soaked hill. The metallic scent of death was swept across the battlefield by the chilling autumn wind.

"They're insane..."

"They don't value life—any life. Not even their comrades'!"

"They're not warriors… they're executioners! Cold-blooded killers! Demons from hell!"

The remaining Quincies at the Blue Stream Gate stared in horror. There stood Saito Furobushi, drenched in blood and laughing atop a mountain of corpses. Beside him, the black-skinned reaper Chihiro shattered bones with every blow. And slicing through limbs with an eerie calmness was the seductively terrifying Shikatari Kadori.

How could mere mortals—humans—hope to defeat monsters born from hell itself?

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