Listen Here!
As an instructor, one must be able to recognize when their students are doing well. If Ensō were going to allow for himself to be known as an esteemed instructor, there would have to be some sort of praise given to those that challenged him so whole-heartedly. They had put everything on the line in order to ensure that they could ensnare the man. Although the clown was confident enough to escape the assault, such a wish had not been granted. Instead, he had fallen victim to the onset that the three had coordinated amazingly. In a game like chess or shogi, each piece holds a distinct amount of weight alone. Even a pawn can topple a King should they become blind in their arrogance. Such was the situation that was unfolding before them. It was evident that the Shinigami had gravely miscalculated his plan of attack, the three had astonishingly put together a pincer attack that didn't even allow for him to deflect, given the nature of the two that had remained on offense, while Daiki remained on defense. Surely now the instructor would realize that his original position behind the Komamura had caused his downfall, as the support he gave to his fellow members of the 7th proved vital to the success of the attack. He was undoubtedly tactful, which reminded the instructor of his ancestor that had once served as a Captain of the Gotei 13.
Gritting his teeth to the point in which they sounded like they were going to begin to chip for the pressure he had exerted, the man felt Katsuo's blade penetrate all seven layers of his flesh from his head to the middle of his torso. He had to admit that such a unique Zanpakuto with electrical properties that made parrying or even being touched by the weapon when it was in its full glory and release was indeed lethal. This worked in tandem with the katana's original purpose without electricity: to cut through flesh and other substances like a scalpel cut throw the skin during surgery with the slightest of pressure applied. He could feel the shock holding him in place as a fountain of blood erupted from his face where the attack had begun, while the rest of his blood that had been drawn stained the down ripped open clothing. It appeared as if his shihakusho was ready to give from the waist up, which would expose the man's rather slender body, which held no special features. The instructor had never been a fan of tainting his body with ink — if something was going to permanently be there, he wanted to make sure that it would be a scar that had been carved into his flesh from fighting. It seemed that the jester had gotten what he wanted. Although the other's couldn't hear it, Ensō distinctly heard crackling lightning dancing on his ears, a likely effect of the catastrophic damage that had been dealt by the Shikai. Paired with searing flesh, he received 2nd-degree burns that engraved themselves deeply into his forehead, nose, lips, and collarbone. His torso had been seared in multiple places, but there was no distinct patch that showed the lethality of the electricity that continued to run through his body with relative ease. This was a tricky foe, indeed. Ashura was more frightening when it came to burning, as his Shikai had reached the man, just as he had with Daiki's support - positioning the two of them in such a way that dodging was impossible. Ensō's flesh began to peel off of his face, and the tatters of his kimono were burnt to a crisp, ascending beyond ash, becoming entirely disintegrated as if the top of the outfit had never existed. Needless to say, it had eaten away at the bottom half of his outfit, but its potent abilities had focused more on the body than on the man's outfit. Needless to say, that which wasn't peeling away and coming off of the man had turned into 3rd-degree burns, working in tandem with the 2nd-degree burns that had been inflicted at the same time. His pale violet hair had charred, making the man nearly bald at this point. The clown's skin had been burned so very badly that he was looked more like a skeleton than he did a man that was alive. He couldn't help but curse their efforts as they had inflicted a high degree of pain upon him. The clown smiled despite his pain, there were no cries, but it was evident that he was going to try to resist, despite his pitiful state in which electricity and flames eroded his body. If he were to release his Shikai, he could certainly turn things around, even though the three had coordinated so well, he wasn't sure if they could do it again. There was resistance in this smile of his, which was easy to see given the fact that the flesh around his mouth had melted so horribly that his pearly whites were all that one could see when looking at him from the chin up. The question remained, however, was the madman capable of even mustering the strength to retaliate against the three? It was likely, given the fact that his own pain receptors were not surprised by the lightning and fire, they had simply combined in order to make a new sensation that brought him joy more than anything. These toys weren't defective at all! No, they were working better than he'd thought. As his head dropped down, he thought to himself briefly of a time in which he had experienced a similar type of pain.
Oh, my dear Omoni, how I wish I could feel the cold steel of your Zanpakuto puncturing my flesh once more... His smile persisted as his knees looked like they were going to give, which would cause him to fall and still remain paralyzed while being burned from Ashura and Katuso, possibly being reoriented by Daiki in the process. It was time to think.
Well, it wasn't really time to think. There was something amiss here. Had the instructor really gone down so easily? Was he really unprepared for such sudden attacks despite his familiarity and cherished of battle? The answer to that lied within what had happened. Yes, their strategic assault had landed, but it would soon be evident that something was amiss. Ensō's reiatsu that had weighed down on the three and spread itself over the 7th Division's barracks had come to a halt. It was time for him to read them the gospel — the truth. Once the weight of his spiritual pressure had dispersed, the man was nowhere to be seen. This wasn't the result of a well placed Shunpo or some other Shinigami technique, no. The truth was that the man hadn't been where they perceived him to be, not even in the beginning. His true position had been covered by his Reiatsu from the start, he had projected his image that they had landed the pincer attack on. The crescents from earlier had acted in a similar way, allowing for them to sense that his attack had been launched from the position that they believed him to be, the position in which they had landed their coordinated attacks. They believed that they had broken through the effects of his Reiatsu when they warded off the visions that had befallen them. Surely, they thought that was the extent of his madness; they felt as if they had warded it off entirely, simply pushing through it all. They had truly felt as if their assault had succeeded and it did, but not in the way that they thought it did. When a man is subjected to madness, how could they know what they were doing was correct? What insane man doesn't feel sane? The support of Ashura and Katsuo, Daiki, had truly believed that he saw Ensō in front of him, following through with his actions in order to ensure that he could allow his fellow squadmates to tame the instructor. Reality is often bleaker than one would like to believe, and Daiki would soon come to know this. Through the use of his Shikai, he had manipulated Katsuo and Ashura in a manner that allowed for their attacks to clash against one another. The electrical fiend Katsuo and fire hellion Ashura had still perceived the instructor as their target when they were unaware that they had actually been targeting one another. By the time that the gospel had been read to them, their attacks had already landed upon one another. Ashura's body had received the wounds that were meant to afflict the clown, searing him and electrocuting him while afflicting the paralysis and 2nd-degree burns that were meant for Ensō. On that same note, Katsuo had been hit by Ashura's own flames — lit ablaze in an azure glory that would eat away at his Katsuo's Reiatsu as well as his body. Being set on fire would be quite hard to deal with; these were no ordinary blue flames. Alas, it didn't matter to the instructor any longer. Every wound thus far that was meant for him had befallen the two Shinigami trying to corner him, and with Daiki in close proximity, there was no doubt that the fuzzball would be lit aflame. It was a shame, really, especially given the fact that the man wanted to make a nice scarf out of the Komamura. Fashion was important, after all.
When the truth had reached them, they would undoubtedly be caught up in the dance of death that had come to fruition from the fusion of flames and lightning. Impairing one another with the help of Daiki was sure to cause mental trauma to all three of them, but especially to Daiki who had completed his actions while still on the floor. Foolish behavior deserved punishment, of course, which meant that the Shinigami wasn't sitting idly by from his vantage point of 20 meters to their left while standing in the air. What was odd, however, was that the man's lips hadn't stopped moving while the three had continued their assault. He wouldn't do anything to interrupt their clash with one another, but that didn't mean he wasn't preparing something nefarious for when the madness had been replaced by the bleak reality before them. As their attacks had landed on one another, they had trapped themselves and Daiki, considering that Katsuo's blade was sending electricity into Ashura, while Ashura was lighting Katsuo on fire and fueling these flames without an end in sight. The man's right hand had been elevated, his palm outstretched as his fingers appeared as if they were grasping something. Aion rested well within his sheath as a black sphere lingered in his hand, purple energy surrounding the man would now befall them as he had reached well beyond the half-way point of his incantation, which meant that they would fall victim these effects in the same second that they realized that their attacks had landed on one another with their teamwork, instead of helping one another.
"Unite! Repulse! Fill with soil and know your own powerlessness! Hadō #90. Kurohitsugi!"
As a master of Kidō, Ensō's election to use a full incantation for the infamous Black Coffin was nothing short of terrifying. The weight that had been lifted earlier had been replaced by something much more repulsive, much more grotesque when enacted. The three men would be enveloped by a powerful torrent of gravity that held them in place as the black box formed around them, spears protruding while it manifested. Daiki and Ashura hadn't had a chance to rest from their spar earlier, which would also play into the man's plan. Katsuo was not in much of a better boat, as he was being subjected to Ashura's flames consistently. The Komamura that lacked speed would remain plastered to the ground, while the two who had attacked each other wouldn't be able to withdraw and regroup, as the coffin would force them to stay in place — it would force them to
know their place. Within the next second that had passed, the coffin had come to full fruition, encasing the men in not only a box where gravity would bind them, and begin to crush them as a result but a box in which they would be lacerated from head to toe — in even finer pieces than if they had fallen subject to the crescent moons. The coffin encompassed the pieces that Daiki had set out, it was sure to swallow everything in its path, holding them prisoner while torturing them on two fronts. Should they hope to escape this, they would certainly have to worry about that which stood over the coffin as it was forming, a slight modification had been made to a particular Bakudo spell. But just how had the instructor completed a Bakudō spell without making a second incantation? The answer was quite simple and it was simple he was very well versed in. Through the use of
Nijū Eishō (二重詠唱, Twofold Incantation; Viz "Double Destruction Chant"), the instructor had intermingled a Bakudō alongside his offensive spell. The real kicker was that this was none other than
Bakudō #37: Tsuriboshi, which held no particular incantation, and even if it was out there somewhere, the spell was within the realm in which he could not only modify it as he had done but neglect the incantation if necessary given his mastery over these arts. Instead of six sticky and elastic ropes simply shooting out in all directions a meter above the coffin, the ropes had formed bonds with one another, making more of a net than ropes come together to doubly enclose those before him in the coffin should they attempt to circumvent him successfully, they would have something else bringing them back into the crushing swirl of gravity mincing enveloping them. Kurohitsugi's size was 25 meters in diameter at its base, and it rose to 15 meters in the air. The instructor hadn't thought of them as toys that were effective at all, no, he still believed them to be defective, but at least they had tried. Now his crimson gaze remained on the location beneath him, his eyes lighting up with joy as the events before him unfolded as he was ever cognizant of his surroundings. The destruction that would ensue would be taken care of soon enough.
