"In terms of the result, your deduction wasn't wrong. Right now, I really am the one maintaining the foundation of Soul Society."
Rosse did not deny it. His tone was unusually calm.
Although his current level was only SSS-, still a bit below the Soul King at his peak a million years ago.
Based on his estimate, the Soul King back then was probably at SSS+.
But if he was only being compared to that dismembered Soul King who had been turned into a human stake for countless years, then his current strength was far beyond that.
With the current scale of Soul Society, after obtaining SSS-level spirit particle power, he only needed to split off a small part of his attention to replace the Soul King and stabilize space.
Forget several thousand years. Even ten thousand years would not put much burden on him.
Of course, whether he was willing to keep doing it forever was another matter entirely.
After all, these Shinigami had made their own choice. Since there was no one left here willing to follow him, then in Rosse's eyes, the current Soul Society had already lost the need to continue existing.
For now, it only needed to last until the play ended.
Rosse slowly raised his right hand. Under the breathless gaze of every Shinigami present, he casually snapped his fingers.
Snap!
Along with that soft sound, the giant black tear stretching across the sky, symbolizing the world's coming collapse, actually began repairing itself in full view of everyone, as if an invisible giant hand was stitching it back together.
In only a few breaths, that despair-inducing scar completely vanished.
The sky returned to its pure blue state once more, as if the threat of destruction had only been a dream.
Clang!
Someone could no longer hold onto their sword. A Zanpakuto fell onto the stone ground with a sharp sound.
Then came one weapon hitting the ground after another.
After seeing that miracle-like scene, every Shinigami fell into a silence more unbearable than death.
If it were only that the enemy possessed overwhelming power that could not be defeated, then as members of the Gotei 13, they would still have the resolve to die in battle for their pride.
But now, the situation had completely reversed.
The great demon king they had been shouting about killing and resisting with their lives was instead the only person capable of holding up the sky when it collapsed, the one who saved Soul Society.
More importantly, if he devoured the Soul King in order to maintain Soul Society, then what exactly were they today?
A bunch of idiots manipulated by the nobles and Squad Zero, deceived by a few lies?
Or were they really just as Aizen had mocked them earlier, pathetic insects that talked about justice all day long, but in reality only created bloodshed and prejudice while accomplishing nothing useful?
For the first time, the despair spreading through every Shinigami's heart did not come from the gap in strength, but from the complete collapse of their beliefs.
"Rosse! Drop the fake act already!"
Hirako Shinji let out a harsh roar, breaking the dead silence.
The face that usually carried a carefree look now held nothing but twisted hatred.
He did not care whether Rosse was supporting the world, nor did he care about any so-called justice.
From the moment Hiyori and the others died in front of him, the Hirako Shinji who once spent peaceful days in the Human World had already died.
What remained now was only an empty shell driven by revenge.
Even if Rosse really could save Soul Society and lead this world into unprecedented prosperity, he would never accept it.
"Pull your sword and kill us already! Standing here and playing with people's hearts like a cat teasing mice, is that fun to you?"
Hirako Shinji gritted his teeth. Because of the extreme anger, tiny blood vessels had burst at the corners of his eyes as he glared at Rosse in the sky.
"I don't understand."
Rosse tilted his head slightly. There was no anger in his eyes at being offended, only coldness and confusion, like someone watching ants move their nest.
"This is a conflict between old and new ideals. What do you mean by playing with people?", Rosse looked down at him from above, "You want revenge for your dead friends, so you're willing to use all of Soul Society as your bargaining chip. Even if your revenge fails, you don't mind dragging the entire world down with you. That's your true thought, isn't it?"
"Yes! I admit it!"
Hirako Shinji suddenly coughed up two mouthfuls of blood mixed with fragments of organs.
He slammed Sakanade's blade into the stone in front of him. Using the sword hilt to support himself, he forcibly straightened his unsteady body and roared toward the sky, "I fucking want revenge! Even if Soul Society gets destroyed right in front of me today, I don't care! I admit my selfishness! I'm way more honest than you! Do you dare admit you're a bastard who'll use any means necessary?"
"Since you're being so honest, then I'll admit it too. I truly have no interest in whether this world survives or not."
Rosse smiled as he looked around. Using the gentlest tone possible, he spoke words that made every Shinigami nearby feel like they had fallen into an ice cave.
The Shinigami who had just started wavering after seeing Rosse repair the sky, thinking there was still some compassion left in him, were now completely stunned.
Only then did they realize in despair that the man in the sky was not some savior who cared about the world.
"People can only save themselves. They can never wait for others to grant them salvation."
Rosse's gaze swept across the remaining Shinigami below, his voice striking every soul, "The chance to survive has always depended on your own resolve. Countless people already told you that I'm not a good person. Countless people warned you that I am the ruler of Hueco Mundo. More importantly, you personally witnessed that I possess absolute power you cannot resist at all."
"If you were truly warriors with unwavering will, then you should have persisted in your beliefs without fearing death, like Kuchiki Ginrei and Hirako Shinji. Whether you think I'm a bastard, a world-destroying demon, or firmly believe I'm a Hollow outsider, as long as you raised your swords and charged at me, I would grant you a warrior's death."
Rosse's eyes gradually turned cold, carrying deep disappointment.
"But sadly, when faced with the charity I casually handed out, you wavered."
As those soft words fell, Rosse casually waved his hand through the air.
Whoosh!
A breeze formed entirely from high-density spirit particles suddenly swept across the plaza in front of Squad Ten's barracks.
In the next second, a horrifying scene unfolded.
The Shinigami who had dropped their Zanpakuto, along with the squad members who had shown regret and fear on their faces when Rosse repaired the sky, instantly lost their forms under the touch of that breeze.
There were no screams. No blood.
Their flesh, bones, and even their Shihakusho were forcibly broken down by absolute control over spirit particles in less than one-thousandth of a second, turning into ash drifting through the air.
In only a moment, the crowded plaza lost more than half its people.
"What a cruel method... Erasing them directly at the root level of spirit particles..."
Nimaiya Oetsu stood frozen in place, staring at the spots where those Shinigami had disappeared. His tone carried endless helplessness and mixed emotions.
Too strong.
Just the two simple things Rosse had done after appearing, repairing the sky with a thought, erasing lives with another, that had already reached a level these Shinigami could never touch no matter how long they spent their lives chasing it.
There was no chance of victory against a god like this.
But honestly, Nimaiya Oetsu could no longer even find a reason to fight.
As the creator of Zanpakuto, he understood it more clearly than anyone else.
Even if they won, so what?
Rosse's control over spirit particles had already fully reached, perhaps even surpassed, the level of the former Soul King.
With that degree of control, plus his own terrifying strength, if he wanted to tear apart the world before dying, it would be as easy as flipping his wrist.
If they lost, everyone died together.
If they won, the world still collapsed.
Then what meaning was there in them standing here waving their swords around like clowns?
"Rosse... you've won this battle."
Kyoraku Shunsui let out a weary sigh.
He raised his head and looked at Rosse in the sky for a long moment. Then he turned around, his gaze lingering over the ruined Seireitei around him.
Compared to when he was first born and when he studied at Shin'o Academy, the buildings here had become much denser, and there were far more kinds of people.
He had spent endless years here, drank the strongest liquor, and seen the most beautiful cherry blossoms.
Born here, and now dying here as well. For a remnant of the old era, perhaps that was not a bad ending.
"Jushiro! Sorry about this. In the end, I still couldn't avenge you and the old man..."
Before Kyoraku Shunsui could finish speaking, Ukitake Jushiro, who had been lying beside him barely alive, suddenly showed a relieved and gentle smile on his pale face.
Dragging his ruined body, Ukitake replied in an exhausted but calm voice, "Cough! Cough! Don't say stupid things, Shunsui. Being able to walk this far with you and witness the end of all this together. I don't have any regrets anymore. At least, for the Soul Society in our hearts, we truly gave everything we had."
The two smiled at each other. Their thousand years of understanding needed no words at this moment.
At the same time, they made their final move.
No hesitation. No fear.
The four Zanpakuto that had accompanied them for a thousand years, Katen Kyokotsu and Sogyo no Kotowari, were raised in their hands. They reversed the blades and stabbed them into each other's chests and hearts without hesitation.
Slash!
There were no screams.
Only two vast and gentle captain-level spiritual pressures collapsed like broken dams, turning into countless particles of spiritual light that quietly scattered across the scorched land.
Kyoraku Shunsui and Ukitake Jushiro, the two captains who had protected the Seireitei for nearly a thousand years, fell beside each other like autumn leaves.
At the final moment of his life, Kyoraku Shunsui stared blankly at the sky and muttered almost inaudibly, "Old man, I really am a useless rebellious student... Maybe from the beginning, I should've learned to be more free about things. If I could've ignored the arrival of the Hollow King Palace, if I could've lowered my head like everyone else, maybe... Soul Society really could've continued on in another way."
"But no matter how much I try to convince myself... these knees just won't bend..."
Kyoraku Shunsui let out one final sigh as his eyes slowly closed.
From beginning to end, this seemingly lazy but clear-minded captain of Squad Eight had understood everything.
From the day Rosse descended upon Soul Society, the ending for people like them had already been decided.
Whether it was him, Ukitake, or Commander Yamamoto who died in battle, the pride in their bones and their attachment to the old order meant they could never coexist with Rosse's way of doing things, much less submit to a new king built upon their dignity.
They were remnants of the old era. On this giant ship called the new world, there was no room that could carry their beliefs.
Just as Aizen had said, they could calmly accept the Soul King being turned into a human stake, but they could not accept Rosse's rule.
Actually, this was not because Rosse was not strong enough, nor because the Soul King truly earned their respect from the bottom of their hearts, and even less because the Soul King was merely a dried corpse that never interfered, allowing them complete freedom.
In the end, what they could not accept was simply the obsession with who came first.
If from the moment they were born, the stories they heard had been that Rosse was the great god who created the three realms, then perhaps today they would also willingly shed their last drop of blood for Rosse.
In the end... they simply could not deny the beliefs they had upheld for a thousand years just to keep living.
Actually, death was not that frightening after all.
As his consciousness completely sank away, figure after figure flashed through Kyoraku Shunsui's mind.
His older brother and sister-in-law, who had long since passed away and always smiled gently. Commander Yamamoto, who died in his arms with a weight heavier than a mountain, and his crying niece Ise Nanao. His close friend Ukitake Jushiro, who had fought beside him for a thousand years. Even... his old enemy Tsunayashiro Tokinade, Aizen, and that godlike Rosse.
Carrying all those bonds and grudges with him, Kyoraku Shunsui slowly and completely lost all signs of life.
Under the disbelieving stares of the remaining survivors, Kyoraku Shunsui and Ukitake Jushiro both died, choosing the most absolute form of suicide.
Everyone else stared at their bodies in long silence.
They had already come this far.
They had already chosen to fight Rosse with the resolve to die, and at the very moment they should have fought hardest, what did suicide mean?
Did they think their resistance had been a mistake?
Or did they believe there was truly no hope left ahead?
But as Shinigami, why choose such weak self-destruction?
Shouldn't it have been better to charge at the enemy like real warriors, even if they died during the attack, rather than kill themselves?
Whether it was Hirako Shinji, Nimaiya Oetsu, or the bloodthirsty Shinigami around them, none of them could understand the extremely abnormal and weak action Kyoraku Shunsui and Ukitake had taken.