Chapter 73: Baraggan Ran Away Carrying the Train Overnight!

Yamabuki Haruto crouched behind a dune, grappling with his reiatsu shortage. Silver Angel’s monstrous consumption left him drained, even with captain-level reiatsu. How do I fix this blue bar problem? A roar shattered his thoughts.

“I knew you didn’t go far! Your life is mine!” Baraggan, his skull and arm half-regenerated, had sniffed them out. His cunning matched his fury, leading his Hollows back to the ruins.

“Brother Yamabuki, can you still fight?” Sasakibe Chōjirō’s voice trembled. This Hueco Mundo trip’s too much. Never again.

“I can fight, but…” Haruto hesitated. In his inner world, Vollständig was safe—he couldn’t die. Here, one misstep meant death. Vollständig, the Quincy’s ultimate form, wasn’t perfected in this era. Later, Yhwach would refine it, minimizing side effects, but now, it was raw, like Uryū Ishida’s crude Letzt Stil, which burned out his powers. Haruto was experimenting blind.

“Don’t come closer, or I’ll get mad!” Haruto shouted. “You won’t like me when I’m mad!”

Baraggan, enraged, ignored him, charging with his broken axe. No choice. Haruto steeled himself. “Vollständig!”

His body devoured reishi at a frenzied rate, wounds tearing open on his back. Light wings erupted, and a faint halo glowed above his head, angelic yet menacing. Pain seared through him, unlike the inner world. “Why does it hurt so much?!”

“Brother Yamabuki, is this your Zanpakutō’s power?” Chōjirō gaped. This form—neither Shinigami nor Hollow—felt alien.

Baraggan, cautious despite his anger, sent his Hollows to test Haruto. A swarm of Menos Grande charged. Haruto felt invincible, the world in his grasp. He swung Silver Angel lightly. “Spatial Slice!” The air fractured, erasing the Hollows in a ten-meter radius. The stronger my reiatsu, the bigger the range.

“Not bad!” Haruto grinned. “Baraggan, come get some!” But the Skeleton Emperor was gone.

“Who fights a monster like that? Run!” Baraggan fled, Sonido sparking like lightning. The King of Hueco Mundo valued his life too much to die here, not when he craved power’s pleasures. Are all Shinigami this insane?

“You coward! Come back!” Haruto roared, using Silver Angel’s spatial jumps to chase. Baraggan accelerated, their pursuit a blur across Las Noches. Hollows whispered of their king being chased all night by a Shinigami.

Chōjirō and Haru stared, dumbstruck. “Did Brother Yamabuki drink fake sake?” Chōjirō muttered. Haruto’s arsenal—Kidō, Heilig Pfeil, Cero, spatial slices—flew relentlessly, his reiatsu seemingly endless as he devoured reishi.

Haru checked her communicator. “Chief, the Senkaimon’s almost ready!”

Haruto pointed at Baraggan, hiding in the ruins. “Come here! Let me cut you!” Baraggan peeked out, panting. This lunatic! He’d never wished harder for a Shinigami to leave.

A glowing Senkaimon materialized. Haruto released Vollständig, swaggering to the gate with Silver Angel in hand. He turned, pointing the saber at Baraggan. “This isn’t over! I’ll be back tomorrow to slice you up!”

Baraggan’s face, if it could, would’ve turned green. What did I do to deserve this?

“Let’s go home!” Haruto led Chōjirō and Haru into the gate. The moment he crossed, his bravado crumbled. Blood spurted from his mouth, laced with organ fragments. His eyes, ears, and nose bled profusely. Vollständig’s toll was brutal—his body was breaking.

“Chief!” Chōjirō gasped.

“Don’t look, just go!” Haruto barked. The incomplete Vollständig had ravaged his organs, nearly costing his life. He stumbled, collapsing.

Baraggan, watching from afar, cursed. “He was bluffing! I should’ve finished him!” But the gate was closing, and he wouldn’t risk pursuit with Soul Society’s forces waiting.

Haru hoisted Haruto onto her back, racing through the Senkaimon. Light bloomed ahead—Seireitei.