Help! I am bound to Aizen!-Chapter 299

“That’s not so bad… The subject who took the longest to regain consciousness in past Hollowfication experiments needed almost fifty minutes. We’re only halfway there.”

Aizen gave a wry smile. “Yes, which means Kaelith has enough time left. But for us…time is running out.”

The surrounding air felt so stiflingly dense with Kaelith’s spiritual pressure that it was warping the very space they fought in. Aizen never imagined the toughest battle he’d face would be under circumstances like these.

Kisuke Urahara flickered over, joining Aizen. He clutched a short blade, his clothes torn and ragged.

“Aizen, it’s not looking good. Maybe…we ought to try something else. For instance, calling on ‘that person’?”

Though he addressed Aizen, Urahara’s eyes never left Kaelith, still raging in the distance.

Aizen shook his head. “No.”

He knew exactly who Urahara meant: Genryūsai Yamamoto.

Yes, Yamamoto could undoubtedly suppress Kaelith. The problem lay in what came after. Both the Hollowfication itself and the current state of Hueco Mundo could very well cross Yamamoto’s bottom line. Even if Kaelith and the old man did share a deep teacher–disciple bond, it would be impossible to talk their way out of this.

Aizen wasn’t about to let his own failings force Kaelith into conflict with Yamamoto. Kaelith had sacrificed too much already—Aizen refused to see him hurt again.

By now, Kaelith’s carnage had reached a fever pitch. Of everyone here, fewer than half could still fight. Even the Arrancar, known for their tough skin and potent regeneration, lay scattered across the battlefield.

Aizen thought of the “Ninth Serum,” a trump card he’d devised in his younger years. If he swallowed it, his spiritual pressure would soar by a large margin, but his potential would be permanently stunted. He reflexively reached for that option—only to remember a critical detail: Kaelith drew power from him. If Aizen suddenly boosted his own reiatsu, Kaelith might just become even stronger.

Clenching Kyōka Suigetsu, Aizen forced himself to calm down and think. He didn’t know what Kaelith was witnessing in his inner world, but Kaelith’s fury was climbing higher every moment. There had to be something that triggered that rage.

As Aizen watched Kaelith hurl Ulquiorra into the ground like a rag doll, tearing off his arm in the process, his eyes narrowed.

“Urahara. Work with me.”

“How?”

Urahara asked without hesitation. Aizen adjusted his glasses, exuding a confidence that belied the chaos around them.

“We tackle the source. If Kaelith’s consciousness has turned against him, we help him regain it.”

Urahara took two seconds to process this, then grinned through gritted teeth. “I see… Got it. Let’s do this!”

“Bankai—Kan’on Biraki Benihime Aratame!!”

…

Amid the howling storm in Kaelith’s inner realm, he rampaged like a demon from the depths, his azure flames blanketing the entire sea in blue light. The Quincy who loosed that fateful arrow at Yamamoto had been sliced into shreds of flesh, but no sooner was one destroyed than more appeared. Cloaked figures with glowing bows—Quincy everywhere, stalking their prey.

Yoruichi, Soifon, Gin, Rangiku, Sōjun, Seinosuke…

Swish!!

An arrow tore through the pouring rain, striking Aizen squarely in the temple and exiting on the far side. Blood spurted from the wound as Aizen toppled with a confused look. Kaelith didn’t utter a sound. Instantly, he lunged, capturing the Quincy in a pitiless grip and hacking him apart slice by slice.

He lost count of how many cuts he made. Only once the shredded remains ceased to resemble anything living did Kaelith straighten and cast a sweeping gaze across the deck. The entire ship teemed with these unknown Quincy, each one cloaked and faceless, bow in hand, relentlessly hunting Shinigami. Everywhere he looked, comrades he recognized—and many he didn’t—were skewered by blue arrows. Dozens more had died while he was finishing off the one that felled Aizen.

Kaelith stared at Aizen’s motionless body at his feet, saying nothing. Even the sight of more allies perishing under a hail of arrows failed to stir him. He simply stood there, unmoving.

Watching this from the rain, Rixiang Jimie remained silent. That should be enough, she thought.

As Kaelith’s Zanpakutō spirit, she’d witnessed his entire journey from the closest vantage point. In that long, Shinigami life, Kaelith had seen far more hardship than most. Countless brutal battles left marks that ordinary people could never imagine.

Yet even so, this man never truly tasted “defeat.”

Certainly, he’d repeatedly lost sparring matches against Yamamoto. Aizen often bested him in their private duels with his cunningness. Not long ago, the Royal Guard hammered him so badly he nearly died from a single strike. But for Kaelith, none of those experiences felt like genuine failure. Physical blows and personal suffering never left a lasting wound on his heart. Only the deaths of those he cherished could possibly break him.

If he confronted that agony—if he experienced true despair—he could move forward again, even stronger. Merely as “Rixiang Jimie,” she could never be so cruel as to force that on him. However, once the Hōgyoku granted her Hollow powers, she gained both new abilities and a newfound ruthlessness toward her master.

She watched him stand in the rain, eyes locked on Aizen’s corpse, motionless and silent. Rixiang Jimie knew it was time to act. Though her heart hurt for him, she had to do what needed doing. Step by step, she approached from behind.

“Kael—”

“Grah, so you finally show yourself?”

Kaelith abruptly lifted his head. Shock flickered across Rixiang Jimie’s face. Because in his eyes—there wasn’t a trace of the near-mad despair she’d expected. Instead, he wore his usual clear-eyed smugness.

“Wh-what…?”

She felt a jolt of confusion. Hadn’t she just watched him break down?

Kaelith folded his arms, Zanpakutō still in hand. “You want to know how I snapped out of it? Simple. You killed Aizen.”

Rixiang Jimie’s brow furrowed. If Aizen was Kaelith’s dearest comrade, shouldn’t that loss push him further into collapse?

Reading her expression, Kaelith gave a sardonic laugh. “This nightmare you staged was impressive. Even knowing it was fake, my emotions sucked me right in. But the moment I saw Aizen fall, something in my gut told me—this was definitely an illusion. As if a random Quincy could possibly finish off Sōsuke Aizen.

You messed up, Rixiang Jimie. You have no clue what ‘Aizen Sōsuke’ really means.”

Kaelith raised his blade. At that exact moment, a voice resounded through the stormy skies:

“Kaelith, calm down. I’m right here. I’m fine, perfectly alive. Genryūsai Yamamoto is fine too—he’s in the Soul Society, waiting to scold you once you get back. Everyone else is safe, all alive. Don’t worry. As long as I’m around…”

Rixiang Jimie stared in disbelief. “Impossible… How is he sending his voice in here? This is the inner realm—only I should be able to control this domain!”

Kaelith laughed. “Idiot. Aizen Sōsuke is the man who never loses—his might and his cunning are second only to mine!”

Then his eyes flicked back to Rixiang Jimie. “And you made one more mistake. This isn’t your world to control. It’s mine.”

He thrust his blade skyward. A piercing beam of light shot through the clouds, a radiant sword slicing apart the black rain. Sunlight flooded the sea, the storm’s darkness scattering in the blink of an eye. The grand ship caught the breeze, plowing forward majestically across shimmering waves.

Facing the red-haired girl—her eyes black with gold irises—Kaelith gripped his Zanpakutō in both hands.

“See for yourself, Rixiang Jimie. I’m no fragile fool who can’t handle his own mind.”

“Bankai—Rixiang Jimie, Shin Ga Tomyō!!”

…

Out in Las Noches, Aizen crossed both arms over his Zanpakutō to block Kaelith’s downward slash. Forty-one minutes had passed since Kaelith’s Hollowfication began—a draining, high-intensity battle. Aizen hadn’t felt such fatigue in ages.

Crash!!!

Kaelith’s latest strike knocked his blade aside, and Kaelith lunged with razor-sharp claws at Aizen’s neck. A blow like that would be lethal—yet Aizen’s eyes held no fear. He simply gazed calmly at Kaelith’s onrushing hand.

Clang!!

A second blade interposed from the side, intercepting Kaelith’s claw. Kisuke Urahara coughed up a mouthful of blood, planting his feet beside Aizen.

Behind Urahara stood a gigantic, beautiful woman with closed eyes—his Bankai, Kan’on Biraki Benihime Aratame. Much like Komamura’s Bankai, it was a summons, though its ability wasn’t raw combat, but total restructuring of anything within its range.

Whether organs had been punctured or bones shattered, Urahara could restore them to working condition. Through this borderline-cheating power, he’d managed to keep everyone in fighting shape. Though battered and exhausted, their spirits ran high. Going toe-to-toe alongside trustworthy comrades against one of the mightiest bosses in the Three Realms—what greater thrill for a warrior?

Weapons raised all around as Kaelith turned on them, golden eyes feral. His entire body was sheathed in an almost carapace-like shell of white bone. Starrk and Ulquiorra exchanged uneasy looks—Kaelith in that form looked more Hollow than any of them had pre-Arrancar transformation. Part of them wondered if they could cram him into the Hōgyoku again to see if he’d “break off his mask.”

Kaelith hunched in preparation, letting loose a roar. Everyone braced themselves for a final clash—only the attack never came. Instead, the white bone plating along his body shattered and fell away, as though he’d just shed a second skin.

Foll𝑜w current novℯls on ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm.

Underneath, Kaelith stood almost stripped of clothing, his chiseled physique laid bare. A single white mask remained on his face, two golden irises gleaming through. Four blade-like antennae protruded from the top. Far from Ichigo Kurosaki’s rounded mask design, Kaelith’s was all edges and angles, an almost futuristic style.

A red gem at its center sparkled in the light.

Aizen’s lips curved. “So? How does your new power feel?”

Reaching up, Kaelith touched the mask, then spoke in an electronically distorted voice: “It’s…fun.”

“Fun?”

Aizen raised an eyebrow, uncertain what to make of that response.

Kaelith curled his fingers under the mask. “Yeah. The moment I woke up, I saw the ragged state of you all—especially you, Aizen. Look at you, like a beggar who crawled here from Rukongai.

It’s hilarious! Hahahaha!”

He pointed at Aizen’s disheveled appearance, letting loose a raucous laugh. Aizen wore his customary polite smile, giving nothing away externally. Internally, though, Kaelith’s personal “grievance ledger” in Aizen’s mind had just expanded to twice its thickness.

You can check out here for 65 advanced chapters!

Patreon(.)com/IDKjust

Btw you also get 2 daily chapters