Bleach: The Shinigami’s Zanpakutō That Unleashed Bankai On Its Own

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The Menos Grande roared as its monstrous claws slammed down, aiming to rip Moyu apart.

"Close to Vasto Lorde… definitely at least Adjuchas-level."

Moyu met the attack with one arm, calm and precise. "As expected of Aizen's handiwork." His Reiatsu flared instinctively—evolution triggered. Strength increased by thirty percent. Though unaffected by the creature's spiritual pressure, he remained sharp. Even a failed creation like this possessed battle instincts honed to a razor's edge. It was his strongest opponent yet.

A red flicker passed through the beast's maddened eyes. Enraged by its failure to harm him, it let out a distorted howl. Crimson Reiatsu surged along its claws, warping them into ten massive, curved, blood-drenched blades. In the next moment, a storm of slashes exploded outward, wild and relentless, closing off every direction. The air split and howled as the strikes came, turning space itself into a killing field.

Then—impact. A shockwave of blue-white Reiatsu erupted from Moyu, blasting the blades back with brutal force. The air convulsed under the blow. Stepping forward, he drew his Zanpakutō, spiritual energy igniting around him. "If that's all you've got… then prepare to die." Their spiritual pressures collided like thunder tearing through the trees.

From a distant ridge, the Shinigami rescue team froze, eyes fixed on the chaos. "This power… it's unreal. That guy—he's a recent graduate?" "Moyu's strength… it's beyond any of us." Shock rippled through the squad. Awe and confusion hung thick in the air. "Kuchiki Moyu…" Yamada Seinosuke narrowed his gaze. Behind his composed stare pulsed something deeper—a primal fear, silent and involuntary, stirred by the overwhelming difference in strength.

The Menos shrieked as its attack was destroyed. Its jaws opened wide, a deep void crackling inside, red light surging. Crimson energy gathered, unstable and roaring—the Cero formed in an instant. It fired with cataclysmic force, splitting the earth, igniting the air, and leaving a scorched ravine in its wake.

"The sword flows with wind… and the heart follows the blade." Moyu raised his Zanpakutō, the steel catching the light of the beam. "Shikai. Tear the sky—Sweep, Senluo. Lanyin." His voice was low, but the world responded. Wind surged upward like a living force, howling and spiraling into the clouds. A tornado roared to life, slamming into the Cero and shattering it in a burst of red shards.

The winds kept moving. They howled forward, unstoppable, tearing toward the Menos. The creature blurred into Shunpo and barely escaped, as the world behind it came apart. A thousand meters of forest vanished. Trees were uprooted, rocks pulverized, soil ripped from the earth. And when the wind finally settled, Moyu stood within the destruction.

His Zanpakutō had transformed. The blade extended in a graceful 120-centimeter arc, etched with wind-like patterns of bluish-white energy. A soft breeze lingered around it, coiling around Moyu like a whispering halo. Across the battlefield, the Menos shifted. Arrogance gave way to wariness. Even in madness, it sensed it—something terrifying and absolute. A primal warning pulsed through its soul: death was coming.

"Let's finish this." Moyu's voice was quiet as his eyes locked with the beast's. "Death is like the wind—relentless. This strike… is called Da Lan." Lanyin rose slowly. The creature's scarlet eyes widened in dread.

And then—slash.

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