Chapter 1181

Abaddon remained expressionless, endless locusts swirling around him, each one blocking the opponent's attacks.

And through the locusts, he siphoned the opponent's Qi.

Abaddon was not in a hurry.

Ukitake Jūshirō was indeed a worthy opponent, but he was too lazy to exchange blade strikes with him one by one.

He preferred to wear the opponent down with this subtle, draining tactic.

Consuming the opponent's Qi.

Abaddon believed that as time passed and Qi was exhausted, victory would inevitably be his.

Aizen's expression remained calm as he surveyed the battlefield.

Aizen was fighting Samael, one of the Seven Lords of Hell.

He could be said to be the most relaxed among those confronting the Hell Lords.

He had absolute control over three of Samael's three-headed hellhounds.

Samael's face darkened as he battled his own three-headed hellhounds; his spear, brimming with terrifying power, slashed through the sky and occasionally pierced toward Aizen, only to be casually deflected by Aizen's Zanpakutō.

Even while participating in the battlefield, Aizen had the leisure to analyze the current situation.

"...... Captain-Commander Yamamoto's side is fine! Captain Ukitake won't have any problems in the short term."

"But Kuchiki Byakuya is likely to be the first eliminated."

Aizen's eyes narrowed slightly; he silently adjusted his glasses and gazed toward the distance, where a young man sat lazily upon a Wang Zuo before a temporal rift.

"If we don't count the President... it's simply... a lost cause."

The young man was not handsome, yet he possessed an eerie charm that drew the eye irresistibly.

His black hair was extremely long, spilling across the entire Wang Zuo; his pupils were pitch black.

The young man regarded everything before him with keen interest, as if the battlefield were not a war but a performance staged solely to amuse him.

"...... It's utterly infuriating!"

Aizen exhaled slowly, evading Samael's thrusting spear again: Kyōka Suigetsu flashed with a whoosh, piercing straight through Samael's chest.

Aizen was not merely hiding his true strength.

He manipulated his Kyōka Suigetsu to distort Samael's five senses.

He was even attempting to control him.

And now, Aizen felt his efforts were bearing fruit.

Even though he was confident he could control Samael, the thought of Satan, seated upon the Wang Zuo in the distance, brought him a crushing pressure.

Aizen believed that not only himself, but Yamamoto Genryūsai, too, must be feeling this pressure right now.

After all, Lucifer was merely the man's subordinate.

Even a subordinate was this powerful—how strong, then, could Satan truly be? Aizen doubted he could even fathom it.

Yamamoto Genryūsai dared not even consider the question.

"Azazel, how much longer are you going to drag this out?"

Satan's lazy voice suddenly rang out.

Azazel's body froze; the previous excitement vanished entirely, his eyes filled with regret, his voice turning grim.

"Cute little toy! I wanted to play with you a bit longer, but since the King has ordered it, I must kill you now."

Kuchiki Byakuya's pupils shrank sharply; the next instant, Azazel's eyes turned cold and merciless, appearing instantly before Byakuya, his palm slowly driving toward Byakuya's chest—seemingly slow, yet leaving Byakuya with no escape.

................"Clang!"

A crisp sound rang out as Su Han appeared beside Kuchiki Byakuya and Azazel.

A faint smile lingered on his face as he gripped Azazel's arm, then simply squeezed.

Azazel's arm trembled slightly; it could not withstand the pressure, cracking with countless fissures as black blood spattered out.

"...... Impossible."

Su Han did not even activate the Power Stone—he used only his Titan Body, swinging his other fist like a starfall, slamming it with crushing force into Azazel's body.

In an instant, Azazel's entire body was covered in cracks.

He shot forward like a cannonball, hurtling toward Satan.

Satan's face remained expressionless as he rose slowly, seized Azazel, and hurled him aside.

Azazel slammed into the nearby temporal rift, his body sliced by the razor-sharp rift, compounded by the countless fissures Su Han's punch had already inflicted.

He could not endure it—his entire form shattered apart.

"Aaaahhh!!"

Azazel screamed in agony; though he would not die, the pain of total bodily disintegration was more than even he could bear.

Satan ignored Azazel's shrieks, his gaze locked on Su Han, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

Thoughts flashed through his mind.

"...... Who is this man? I distinctly remember—there was no such person among the Shinigami."