Time flew by, and several days passed.
At a glance, Hell stretched endlessly in all directions. Towering stone pillars rose from the ground, the air was thick with miasma, and desolation reigned supreme.
At this moment, Masatsuki Aozaki had already left the Three Worlds behind and stepped into a completely unfamiliar space. It didn’t resemble the terrifying purgatory of legend, but rather a desolate, uninhabited void.
Even so, he felt no fear or panic. Strange as it was, this wasn’t his first time witnessing such a scene. Nor did he let his mind drift into idle thoughts.
From the very beginning, he had believed that Rangiku and the others could take care of themselves—there was no need to worry. Unlike what the Soul King had imagined, Masatsuki Aozaki wasn’t distracted by outside matters. His goal was clear, his will unwavering, and his heart burned with an intense desire.
It was as if only by completing this task could he truly find peace.
He gripped the katana tightly, not with some grand resolve to save the world, but with calm composure.
Thoughts of the people in the Three Worlds, longing for his lover’s bodies, and his hopes for the future—all these emotions intertwined, anchoring his mind and shattering any illusions about the unknown.
When the towering Will of Hell appeared before him, it lifted a sword forged from the principles of Sin and Punishment. The pressure it emitted was so overwhelming that even a so-called king like Yhwach would be crushed to his knees.
But to Masatsuki Aozaki, this only intensified his bloodlust.
Once I finish you off, I still need to hurry back and create a true Son of God!
He gripped the hilt of his katana tighter, his fingers rubbing along it as a sharp light flashed in his eyes. Even in the face of a force more oppressive than the gods themselves, he didn’t falter.
What did catch him off guard, though, was that the Will of Hell could reveal a physical form.
Despite being called the Will of Hell—similar in name to the Intent of Hell—their appearances were completely different.
The Will of Hell’s form was colossal, like a towering giant. Its long hair flowed with the wind, and its presence carried an eerie grace.
But it wasn’t made of ordinary flesh and blood. Its body was a semi-transparent purple liquid, armored in what looked like soft golden bones, radiating an air of both mystery and majesty.
Its eyes shone like brilliant stars, and in its right hand it held a massive golden sword, its blade glowing with a faint golden light.
The aura it released was strikingly similar to that of the Soul King, enough to shake one to the core.
Before such a being, it felt almost insulting to use a crude word like "monster."
Masatsuki Aozaki gazed at the entity before him, emotions swirling in his chest.
That body radiated both divine holiness and terrifying horror—a contradiction in form.
But when he remembered what this body represented—a god equal in rank to the Soul King, and the embodiment of Hell’s law to punish the wicked—he suddenly realized that the contradiction made perfect sense.
"Finally, we meet—the rules of the world, the true embodiment of the Will of Hell."
Masatsuki Aozaki spoke softly, his voice laced with excitement and anticipation.
He slowly extended a hand, as if showcasing his gentlemanly grace, inviting this towering beauty to dance with him.
Despite her fearsome appearance, that vast aura—like a sea of stars—felt oddly familiar. He couldn’t help but recall an old friend, the Soul King who once split heaven and earth—Yahweh.
That ordinary middle-aged man was gone now, never to return.
Yahweh had lived and died for the world. So what was the purpose of this Will of Hell standing before him?
The answer seemed within reach, and Masatsuki Aozaki felt a flicker of joy rise in his heart.
He had taken countless lives. Even his strongest opponent had only been Yhwach, a god born of man.
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