The moment Akira saw the pitch-black blade, he had already begun to retreat.
Of course, he knew what this was—Zanka no Tachi, the ultimate form of Ryūjin Jakka. It did not burn or release explosive flames but instead concentrated all of its heat along the edge of the blade, erasing everything it touched.
"Even Susanoo can't withstand it for half a second… Is it hotter than the core of the sun?"
The very concept of Zanka no Tachi, Higashi: Kyokujitsujin—a blade that carried the concentrated heat of Yamamoto Genryūsai's flames—made it far more devastating than mere fire. It was the embodiment of incineration itself, an extension of a sun's dying breath. Akira couldn't even begin to estimate how high the temperature reached.
"Your defense, in front of this old man, is meaningless!"
Yamamoto's assault was relentless. His every swing tore through Akira's Susanoo with terrifying speed, far outpacing its ability to regenerate.
"I don't even have time to summon my divine weapon…!"
Cold sweat formed at Akira's temples. Even if he could summon his Complete Body – Susanoo, it would still be useless before this absolute heat. This was a force beyond conventional durability—pure destruction incarnate.
Yet, unlike Yamamoto, Akira never relied on Susanoo as his primary means of defense. It was merely a contingency, not his ultimate shield. After all, he understood that Susanoo's greatest weakness was extreme heat.
Even in his own memory, when Uchiha Sasuke fought Ōtsutsuki Momoshiki, Susanoo's armor was pierced by the opponent's flames. If such a thing could happen to the strongest Mangekyō defense, then it was no exaggeration to say that Yamamoto Genryūsai himself was the very nemesis of Susanoo.
"Evil obstacle—perish!"
Yamamoto's next strike was aimed directly at Akira himself.
"Finally, I've lured you in."
A smirk played on Akira's lips as Yamamoto unknowingly stepped into his trap.
"Amaterasu!"
Black flames burst forth from his eyes, seeking to consume the old man entirely. However, Yamamoto had anticipated this.
"This old man had a suspicion. If my blocking arm ignites first, then your technique must require sight to activate!"
His battle experience was beyond measure. Even as the flames of Amaterasu devoured his arm, he noticed something odd—Akira hadn't aimed for his head, his vital points, or even his legs. Why?
There was only one conclusion: It wasn't that Akira didn't want to attack those places—it was that Amaterasu only ignited where Yamamoto himself blocked with his arm.
"Hmph!"
With a flick of his scorched hand, the Captain-Commander unleashed remnants of his Kaka Jūmanokushi Daisōjin, sending embers flaring into Akira's field of vision. The unrelenting flames distorted his line of sight, rendering Amaterasu ineffective.
"This is checkmate!" Yamamoto roared, his killing intent so oppressive that it would have knocked a lesser Shinigami unconscious.
But to his surprise, Akira's expression showed not despair—but satisfaction.
"Heh… I knew you'd figure out Amaterasu's activation conditions."
The moment Yamamoto prepared to finish him, Akira's second Mangekyō Sharingan spun rapidly.
"Inferno Style – Flame Control!"
The black flames of Amaterasu twisted unnaturally, reshaping into a massive, sickle-like crescent at point-blank range.
"Tch—!"
Yamamoto's eyes widened as he was forced to leap backward, narrowly avoiding the searing death stroke.
In the blink of an eye, the battlefield had shifted again.
The main reason was that the move had been too abrupt. No one could have predicted that the flames would suddenly shift shape, let alone continue to move independently, relentlessly pursuing their target.
As a result, Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni had no time to fully release his Bankai's Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō: Engulfing Prison Robe. Instead, he was forced to retreat while slashing at the advancing flames with his Amaterasu-infused blade.
"Astonishing combat instincts…" Yamamoto murmured, eyes narrowing. "Did you deliberately time your attack to exploit the brief moment of vulnerability after I countered your previous move?"
As he halted once more, Yamamoto's gaze upon Akira shifted. There was no doubt now—this opponent stood on equal footing with him. Even he, the Commander-General of the Gotei 13, could not afford the slightest lapse in concentration. A single mistake, and he too could fall.
Had such talent remained within the Gotei 13…
"I must admit," Akira smirked slightly, "I didn't expect you to escape unscathed under those circumstances. I'm almost impressed."
That sudden Flame Control technique had been one of Akira's most secretive abilities. Now that it had been exposed, its effectiveness in battle would diminish significantly. And yet, even after revealing one of his trump cards, Yamamoto remained unharmed.
"Save your flattery," Yamamoto said, taking a deep breath. "To be honest, I now feel reluctant to kill you…"
But his voice grew heavier as he continued:
"Yet this old man will never forgive those who betray the Gotei 13."
Akira's expression did not change. "You're mistaken. It's you who have been deceived. You stand against justice, not I. And soon enough, you'll see the truth."
"Enough nonsense!" Yamamoto barked. "You spout empty words without a shred of proof!" His grip on Ryūjin Jakka tightened. "If you still have another trick up your sleeve, use it now—because your next move will be your last."
Akira chuckled. "Confident, aren't you?"
"Have you already forgotten?" His eyes gleamed. "Not only did I withstand your 'invincible' Bankai without a scratch, but I also managed to wound you."
Yamamoto's expression remained cold. "And? You believe that is enough? Let me remind you—the Bankai of Ryūjin Jakka has not yet been fully unleashed."
Akira clenched his fists. He had known this truth all along. His prolonged dialogue had merely been a stalling tactic.
Because at this moment—he was out of options.
"As expected… Without the power of the Goro Goro no Mi, can I truly hold my own against Yamamoto's Bankai?" His mind raced. "Is there any other way…?"
Only one technique had ever managed to wound Yamamoto.
Amaterasu.
And his strongest form—Thunder Flame Dragon Mode—was beyond his reach at present.
Unless…
A bold thought struck him.
What if he combined the two?
If he could swallow all of the flames of the Sun God within himself, refining them into his very essence—
Then he would become something entirely new.
An entity clad in all-consuming, undying fire—
The Amaterasu Black Flame Dragon.
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