Naruto: This Genius is Somewhat Ordinary-Chapter 453

"Concede."

Hearing Ulquiorra’s flat, emotionless voice, Baraggan felt his fury surge one last time.

Yet his gaze inevitably drifted to the two figures watching from the sidelines.

No matter how proud he was, he had to admit it.

He had lost.

Baraggan was not the sort to gamble his life for pride alone. If he were, he would have died the moment he faced Aizen in the past. The fact that he still existed proved he had already bowed his head once before.

His crown had shattered long ago.

"...I concede."

The words seemed torn from his chest. He glared at Ulquiorra with murderous hatred, but Ulquiorra didn’t react at all.

He simply nodded.

The light blade in his hand dissipated, and the massive black wings behind him folded away, condensing back into a sword identical in form to Fujimoto Tōma’s. Notably, the Hollow mask did not return.

Ulquiorra had truly crossed the boundary.

"I won," he said calmly as he walked back to Starrk and Tōma, as if reporting something trivial.

"Congratulations," Tōma replied with a smile. "You’ve stepped into a higher realm."

Then he glanced at Starrk. "At this point, even you might not be able to beat him easily."

"Tch. Maybe," Starrk said lazily, sizing Ulquiorra up. He wasn’t angry. Just cautious. He still had confidence, but not the absolute certainty he once did.

Baraggan watched the three of them chatting as if he didn’t exist. His rage burned, but he didn’t dare move.

Then Tōma looked at him.

Baraggan’s bones chilled.

"Relax," Tōma said gently. "I just want to test something."

That smile set off every alarm Baraggan had left.

Tōma raised Meikyō Shisui and swung.

A pure white blade of pressure tore through the air toward Baraggan.

"What—?!" Baraggan hadn’t expected an attack, let alone one so direct.

Black decay surged forward to meet it.

This time, the white blade didn’t vanish immediately. It carved forward through the black aura, only fading after pushing a significant distance closer.

When it dispersed, Baraggan was left standing there, visibly strained.

"So that’s the limit," Tōma said, unsurprised.

Baraggan’s power aged things away, but it took time. The denser the energy, the longer it took to erode. Ulquiorra’s attacks had failed because they weren’t overwhelming enough.

But someone who completely outmatched Baraggan in pressure could brute-force their way through.

There weren’t many like that.

Tōma counted silently. Zaraki. Aizen. Yamamoto Genryūsai. Possibly members of the Royal Guard.

Enough to remind him that Baraggan, while dangerous, wasn’t untouchable.

"Let’s go," Tōma said, turning away.

There was no need to continue. Baraggan could probably endure a few more slashes, but against Tōma’s more advanced techniques, he wouldn’t last.

Baraggan stared at Tōma’s departing back in shock.

This was the first time someone had shattered his ability head-on.

Even Aizen had relied on deception.

For the first time, Baraggan truly understood the meaning of an overwhelming gap in pressure.

After they left, he collapsed onto his throne, wiping nonexistent sweat from his skull.

His thoughts drifted to Ulquiorra.

That transformation... becoming something like a Shinigami.

Why did it make him stronger?

Outside Las Noches, Ulquiorra walked quietly behind Tōma.

The single slash that had overwhelmed Baraggan replayed in his mind.

He had won, yes. But if the fight had dragged on, he wasn’t confident he could truly solve Baraggan’s ability.

He had always known Tōma was strong.

Now, he understood how vast the difference really was.

"Ulquiorra," Tōma said suddenly, "may I examine your sword?"

Starrk raised an eyebrow. Of course, he thought. There it is again.

"Alright," Ulquiorra replied without hesitation, handing it over.

Even Tōma paused. "You’re not worried I won’t give it back? Without it, your strength would permanently drop."

Ulquiorra tilted his head. "If you wanted it, you could take it by force. If you don’t, then there’s no reason not to trust you."

Tōma fell silent.

That logic is annoyingly airtight, he thought.

Taking the sword, he sensed the difference immediately.

Unlike Starrk’s weapons, Ulquiorra’s blade contained no extra soul. It held only the power he had left behind during his transformation.

In essence, Ulquiorra was now no different from a Shinigami.

The only distinction lay in the nature of the blade’s core.

Bankai. Resurrección...

Tōma felt the pieces coming together.

The remaining mystery was the soul inside a Shinigami’s blade.

Human? Shinigami? Something else?

The answer lay somewhere forbidden.

The Great Archive beneath Central 46.

Tōma exhaled slowly.

"Feels like I’m drifting further and further from Soul Society," he muttered.

Rules were tolerable until they blocked his path forward.

And strength was the reason he was here at all.

He handed Ulquiorra his sword back. "My business in Hueco Mundo is done. I’ll be leaving."

"So it’s finally time," Starrk said with a faint sigh.

Ulquiorra hesitated. "You’re going back?"

"I’m still a Shinigami," Tōma replied. "But I’ll probably spend more time in the Human World from now on."

"Can I come with you?" Ulquiorra asked.

"No," Tōma said bluntly. "Your control isn’t good enough yet. If you’re detected, the Gotei Thirteen will move. And you won’t survive that."

Ulquiorra thought for a moment. "Then once we can fully suppress our pressure... we can find you?"

"That’s fine," Tōma said. "If you can truly hide yourselves."

Ulquiorra nodded.

"Will you keep searching for others?" Tōma asked.

"Yeah," Starrk said. "Training, wandering, finding people we actually get along with. That suits us better."

They weren’t looking for kings.

They were looking for companions.