Gabriel stretched his body a bit, readying himself for the inevitable war against Soul Society. At this rate, there was no avoiding it. No matter what, both sides would have to scrap.
He had around 30,000 Arrancar prepped and ready. Granted, his army was far larger than that—somewhere in the range of 300 million—but the vast majority remained stationed across his empire, fulfilling their duties. Only the best of the best were allowed to participate in this battle.
No bums. No weaklings.
This wasn't a playground. He wanted Soul Society to remember this moment, to etch it into their history books in blood. And if push came to shove, well... Gabriel had a little secret technique to boost those numbers.
By a lot.
That wasn't to say he was coming in with weak soldiers, either.
The weakest among them were at least on par with 6th and 7th-seat Shinigami, while the strongest? Soul Society would soon find out.
The Hollows around him were restless. They wanted this.
They wanted to run that fade.
It was in their nature. Throwing hands? That was their essence. The thrill of battle, the scent of blood, the clash of flesh and steel—it called to them.
Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez grinned from ear to ear, fingers twitching in excitement.
"Tch, if they say no, we get to slaughter them, right? Right?" His body practically buzzed with anticipation.
He wanted Soul Society to say no. He wasn't a religious man, but if he could, he'd pray to the Soul King himself for a rejection.
This fade would not escape his capable hands.
Yammy Llargo was even worse, practically drooling at the thought.
"I can't wait to crush some captains! I bet their heads pop just like watermelons!" He was a bit less dumb than usual, but still quite... special in the head.
Lucius, the Lesser Sin of Pride, stood composed yet radiated arrogance. His gaze swept over the army as if victory was already written in the sand. If his majesty commanded it, he would lay down his life without hesitation.
Gula Bestia, Yammy's Lesser Sin, however, was left behind to guard the city. He pouted like a child denied a new toy, huffing in irritation.
Gabriel wasn't dumb enough to take all of his strong warriors with him. Some heavy hitters were left behind to guard the empire. Even after removing the Hollows on patrol, he still had around 10 to 15 million Arrancar ready to reinforce him if needed—not counting Gillians and basic Hollows.
Tres Bestia stood beside Harribel, awaiting orders.
Mila Rose cracked her knuckles.
Sung-Sun sighed.
Apacci snarled.
At least they looked giddy.
That was nice.
He expected head when this was done.
And then...
Gabriel's gaze landed on Val'Zirrah Aeterna, the Horseman of Conquest.
A Vastolorde that Belial had found in the Forest of Menos. They fought. Belial won. And she submitted.
Somehow, his Four Horsemen had two men and two women. He hadn't even planned it that way, but oh well.
She was stronk.
And she might have a thing going on with Starrk.
She was ready.
Harribel stood at his other side, calm yet unwavering. As the Horseman of Famine, she knew that war was inevitable. The moment Soul Society chose to shield their own corruption, they had chosen war.
Gabriel exhaled slowly.
The army was prepared.
Now... he had to make sure he was.
There was one thing he needed to do before this.
Soul Society – Central 46 Chambers
Inside a place drenched in aristocracy, where the rich got richer and the corrupt somehow got more corrupt, where hubris sat upon a gilded throne, the Captain-Commander of the "great, amazing, undefeated, flawless" military force—as of now—stood in the presence of dicks in fancy robes.
And they were barking orders.
"Ridiculous! As if Soul Society would kneel before some mongrel!"
"The Tsunayashiro are one of the Four Great Noble Clans! We will not tarnish our history by handing one over to some beast!"
"Let them come! The Gotei 13 has stood for millennia! We have faced Hollows before! What could they possibly muster that we have not already crushed?!"
No fear.
No hesitation.
What could possibly go wrong?
After all, they had the glorious Yamamoto. The man who never lost.
One man, however, remained silent. A member of the Fifth Noble Family—the one tasked with guarding Hell.
No name was needed. Just know that his ancestors were there, watching the live mukbang that had been performed on the Soul King's corpse.
His ancestors were there for the most intense game of BDSM ever recorded.
Yet one truth burned in his mind.
"If this Hollow King steps foot in Soul Society... he must be eliminated."
Balance must be preserved.
Even if it meant war.
Hueco Mundo – The Hollow King's Training Grounds
Gabriel stood before the training chamber, inhaling deeply.
This was it.
He would not leave this room until he mastered that power.
So far, his abilities felt limited, constrained—and that wasn't enough.
He wanted more.
Way more.
And so, he began to change.
He would train until he reached the point he so craved.
He would get stronger.