Based on the information currently revealed, Seiya Arima's abilities—especially his Bankai, Eight Aspects of the Heavenly Dragon—are undeniably the most noteworthy.
Its eight derived powers are each distinct, able to unleash remarkable effects beyond normal comprehension when needed. Even among the long legacy of the Soul Society, this Zanpakutō would be considered legendary.
Its primary strength lies in its versatility and support capabilities.
However—
Compared to other Zanpakutō, the Eight Aspects of the Heavenly Dragon lacks something crucial: direct offensive power.
Not tricks like Gandharva's Reishi Communication Network, but the raw destructive force of Zanpakutōs like Ryūjin Jakka or Hyorinmaru—pure attacks that overwhelm and annihilate.
And this has always been Seiya's biggest weakness.
Whether coincidence or fate, Seiya and his mentor Aizen share this same flaw.
When prepared or on equal footing, they perform at an overwhelming level. But against opponents above their tier…
They both struggle.
Yet that only applies to what's been revealed so far.
Three aspects of the Eightfold remain unshown: Ryūbu, Asura, and Kinnara.
Now, Seiya is unveiling the Asura aspect—the race known for slaughter and war, whose battles are so fierce they eclipse heaven and earth.
What sort of power could that entail?
As Ichibē's shout echoed, the Royal Guard snapped to attention.
Among them, Kirinji Tenjirō—known for his speed—flashed to Seiya's front with ghostlike speed. His scowling face was tense, his surprise clear.
An error had been made.
The Royal Guard prided themselves on being above the Gotei 13. To be caught off guard by a "mere youth"—
Unacceptable.
"Sit down, punk!" he snarled.
Tenchi Flash: Kinpika!
A golden light burst forth as Kirinji released his Zanpakutō—the first to do so. This marked a shift toward chaos and open combat.
A brilliant golden blade swept down on Seiya like sunlight melting frost.
Only to slice through empty air.
Seiya's body… dissolved into mist.
Kirinji didn't relax. If anything, he tensed more.
He scanned the surroundings.
No impact—he missed.
A voice spoke from every direction.
"So this is your Zanpakutō…"
A sharp pressure followed. Kirinji twisted, barely catching the blade as sparks exploded from their clash.
Seiya had reappeared—behind him.
He wasn't sure how, but Kirinji didn't waste time theorizing.
Aizen was Ichibē's problem.
The rest of the Royal Guard would focus on Seiya.
Four against one. The advantage was theirs.
Kirinji was a master of healing and physiology. He made a quick call:
Trade injuries. Even if it cost him, the others would back him up.
"Your time in the Soul King Palace ends here, Seiya Arima!"
He grinned cruelly, pulled back, then charged again—sword overhead in a wild, reckless arc.
And Seiya?
Seiya didn't move.
He just watched.
Eyes shimmering, emotionless—like ripples spreading across still water.
Then… something clicked.
He saw it.
The ripple at the edge.
He gathered what he'd seen.
For a heartbeat, the world shivered.
A brush of cold wind, a sense of being grazed by something wrong.
Something… changed.
Ichibē felt it first, turning instinctively.
But Aizen was already there.
"No time to worry about others, is there?" Aizen's voice teased.
His Hōgyoku pulsed, pulling reishi into his chest.
"Eightfold Method: Venoms, Flame, Wind."
A command, like a general directing armies.
Spiritual energy surged, colliding and compressing. Blue reishi turned a dark, murky green.
From the swirling sea, a jade-green phoenix took flight, wings blotting out the sky above the Soul King Palace.
Down below, the residents of the palace could only gape in awe and terror.
"What is that?!"
A creature so massive it eclipsed the sky.
To imagine this was born of "Kido" was absurd.
Ichibē had no choice but to turn back.
"Damn troublesome…"
The clash between Inner Kido and the Eightfold Method continued.
Meanwhile…
Elsewhere in the battle, a conclusion had already been reached.
Blood sprayed in the air, staining the sky crimson.
The other three Royal Guard members arrived—only to see Kirinji Tenjirō clutching his throat in shock.
His Zanpakutō, Kinpika, lay discarded. Pain and dizziness overwhelmed him.
He couldn't even speak—his trachea was severed.
Kirio Hikifune caught him, while Shutara Senjumaru whipped out soft, cotton-like tools from her sleeves.
Ōetsu Nimaiya stepped forward, eyes locked on Seiya with newfound wariness.
The Divine Generals looked shaken.
Because what had just happened… was impossible.
"Did you see it?" Senjumaru asked quietly, pressing the cotton to the wound.
Hikifune, usually confident, was sweating. She had seen it too.
"Kirinji blocked the blow. I'm sure of it. But then…"
She trailed off. Even having seen it, she doubted it.
Senjumaru calmly watched the cotton soak with blood, harden, and transform into new flesh.
Kirinji's wound closed seamlessly.
"…Then he stumbled, couldn't evade, and Seiya cut his throat," she said flatly.
Kirinji's eyes snapped open.
He gasped like a drowning man, desperately sucking in air.
"Looks like your windpipe is fixed," Senjumaru said, poised and cool.
"So, how are you feeling, Kirinji?"
"I…"
He touched his throat, feeling the leftover warmth of his own blood.
"I don't know what happened. I was sure I could dodge. But… it was like…"
He trailed off, unable to articulate it.
Senjumaru finished the thought.
"Like you threw yourself onto his blade."
Yes.
That was it.
He had done nothing. And yet… everything spiraled out of control.
Ōetsu heard this from the front line. He showed no emotion, just casual sarcasm.
"What a rare sight… Seiya Arima, that ability of yours…"
"Asura, huh?"
"Sure is convenient, having a Zanpakutō that broken."
But what was this power?
Even the well-versed Royal Guard couldn't make sense of it.
Illusion? Possession?
Or something beyond that—some higher-tier suggestion?
Kirinji didn't just collapse from a heart attack, right?
Theories swirled. But facts were scarce.
Only one way to know.
"Let me try," Senjumaru offered with a smile.
"If you die, I'll mourn you."
For a few seconds.
"Pff. That's cold."
But this was the Royal Guard.
Only they could face such danger with banter.
Here he came!
Ōetsu bent his knees and charged.
The blade master—the god of blades.
He knew every style, every form.
He dashed forward, aiming to exploit any opening.
Of the Four Divine Generals, Ōetsu was the most ruthless.
He vanished from sight, blitzing toward Seiya.
Too fast to react.
Ōetsu saw Seiya's expression shift. His own grin widened.
Got him?
Maybe…
But then—
The same eerie chill returned.
This time, everyone felt it.
That thing—that effect Kirinji had suffered—was here again.
Ōetsu checked himself instantly.
Nerves, blood, muscles—no flaws. Everything was fine.
But doubt crept in.
It wasn't his body that was targeted.
Then what?
No time to think.
A blade flashed.
SHLICK!
Too fast.
Ōetsu couldn't even gasp.
Half his throat was gone.
From afar, Aizen smiled in satisfaction.
This was it.
The power Seiya forged specifically for this battle—
An absolute countermeasure against the Four Divine Generals.
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Powerstones?
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