I live for the moment,

every drumbeat a callin'

I fight for the thrill,

every head I send rollin'

I stand for the future,

every step forwards

I reach for the throne,

every howl not of cowards

A Predator Among Us

The Hol(low)y War IV

A Clash of (the Mighty) Kings

Yammy shouted in pain.

After exchanging blows with Driscoll, a Quincy who blasted a great size and armored visage, struck evenly with the reborn Arrancar. Their fists connected with flashing reverberations, blasting the ground away and shaking the air like thunderous drums.

But amidst these shockwaves, some strikes broke through and hit him. Across the face, in the gut, over his chest, down low and up high. They stung him, and moreover, they continued to hit him more than he did the Sternritter.

He's not one who enjoys feeling the sensation. He loves to squash the weak, crush them underfoot and relish the look of utter hopelessness at the sight of his power. To feel pain only furthers the anger brewing inside.

An emotion that spells doom for those who claim cause to its infernal heat.

"What's the matter, Arrancar?" Driscoll crowed, deflecting a large meaty fist with a forearm. "You getting tired already?"

"Peh! As if!" He spat, his meaty hand going for what looked like another punch.

This time, his hand opened and grapples the smaller burly arm. Distracted, he did the same to the other arm.

"Haha, I gotcha!" The Cero Espada guffawed.

Before Berci could process why he felt so joyful, he saw him snap his mouth open, an angry red glare shined out of his jaws in the form of a revving sphere of light.

Thinking fast, Driscoll launched himself upwards, driving a knee up the slack chin of the Espada. Cracking the head back with a snap, the crimson wave howled into the jaws of light above their heads, petering away out of sight. Feeling the heat chip away the faceplate of his Vollstandig, he wondered just how much damage his holy form could have absorbed before showering onto his skin and bones.

Distracted himself by the show of discharging light, he failed to see the massive skull crash over his own; a pulse of a Bala forming over the bald scalp, throttling the Quincy down hard with a bounding shockwave.

Helmet shattered, a bloodied gash opening over his head, Driscoll flipped over his heels-

VOOM!

-zooming back to deliver a flying elbow straight into the giant's diaphragm.

"AAAAGH!" He hollered out, eyes wide as he skids back from the powerful physical lunge. Sucking the wind back into his lungs, he drove his trunk legs into the ground, stopping himself dead away.

"That punch…hurt even…more!" He heaved out, a throbbing vein forming over his brows. "What changed? Did you get stronger somehow?"

"I told you to guess, but I don't think you're capable of deep thought," Driscoll replied with a grin, gesturing to his bloodied head. "You see this? After you somehow managed to bloody me past the armor, my Vollstandig boosts the force of my attacks proportionate to the damage inflicted upon me.

"In other words," He hoisted a stream of light over his shoulder, forming a massive spear of reishi with a cross just behind the blade's head.

Throwing it with a smiling shout, "The more you wound me, the stronger my attacks get!"

Yammy slammed both palms forward, catching the spear in a cracking wave of reiatsu and brawn. Just as he dealt with that one, he'd look up and see three more hurtling his way.

"Damn! Annoying! Things!" He shouted, each word emphasized with mighty crack at every projectile hurtled his way.

Dispelling the last, Driscoll appeared past his sweeping arm in a flicker of swift movement. Another brutal crunch cascaded across his chest, followed by an uppercut up his chin and then a chop down on the face to ram into the earth.

"Bualk!" The Cero Espada groaned out, blood spouting from his bruised and bloodied mouth. Gripping the ground, he visibly sweated, heaving heavily.

This can't be! I'm…the strongest! I even ate hundreds of those same faced Arrancar to bulk up. So why?

He rose up at that question, throwing a Bala infused punch at the Quincy.

Popping it in mid-punch, Driscoll's gauntlet smashed into his fist-

KRRRRAAAK!

-splintering the digits, powdering the knuckles and snapping the forearm in several pieces. Yammy stared in disbelief, finding a scream could do little to express the infuriating feeling he had of his arm being torn to shreds.

It reminded him, of that certain Shinigami brat.

And Aaroniero when she tried to fool him, right up until his death.

"Why…is it…always…the fucking…ARM?!" He bellowed out angrily, swinging around at the Sternritter wildly. He merely stepped back, ducking over the huge limb, throwing out another right straight into his chest.

Ribs crunched under the grip, Hierro doing little to protect him now. Wheezing out, he threw a kick forth, gonging the breastplate of Azrael but only serving to push the Quincy back rather than bowl him over.

"You're not much of a fighter," Berci said, mocking the Arrancar with a jeering grin. "But you make a satisfying punching bag, that's for sure."

"THAT'S IT!" Yammy roared out, his food arm reaching for his blade, unsheathing it in a swift motion. "EVERYONE DIES!"

Driscoll suddenly cocked back, sensing something ominous about this act. Like a premonition of fire and death, a feeling of dread swelled within himself. Where did this come from?

Then, he felt the reiatsu.

"Enrage," Yammy Llargo hissed, the blade disappearing in a twister of crimson light that sank into his bulging wave of flesh over flesh, muscles upon muscles. All swirling about in a grotesque expansion upward, barely showing signs of resembling the Cero Espada before the Quincy. Tumorous arms raised up above the bubbling mass of convulsing muscles, followed by a monstrous roar.

"IRAAAAAAAAAAA!"

The Sternritter had to cover his eyes from the flash, followed by an enormous upsurge in pressure over the land. The jaws of light above quivered, tidal waves of earth swathed out from the epicenter of fiery red that shot straight into the sky, billowing over and around the tear in the black heavens.

By the time he uncovered his face, he found himself covered in a veil of shadows. Looking to his left and right, he beheld large, castle tower sized appendages separated by an enormous space, with a multitude of similar limbs sweeping back. A massive clubbed tail swished back, cracking Varvhelt soil with a quaking impact, and the feet twitched with thunderous shuddering.

Looking up, Driscoll gawked at the sheer enormity of Yammy's upper torso. Large bone like contusions made of black chitinous material jutted out of massive city block long arms, with studded knuckles and other pads along various appendages. The large bestial jawbone hanging like a necklace from before had now wrapped around the lower half of his face, grey chinous ridges crossing over his head with his red painted streaks all that remained of his previous ogre appearance.

He's huge! Even the Menos Grande I fought weren't this big, The Overkill thought with an open mouth of shock.

"TCH, THE FACT YOU MADE ME USE THIS REALLY PISSES ME OFF!" Yammy bellowed, his voice like thunder that shook the ground and air around him. Swiveling his head down at the sparkling Sternritter below, he raised a massive fist-

THUUUUUUUUM!

-and swung down, hitting the floor. The enormous pressure shockwaved to the palace grounds, a pillar of sand uprooting into the sky and rained down flecks of barren dirt upon the large Arrancar. His eyes squinted, his Pesquisa all but nonexistent in this state of his, wondering if he actually hit something or not.

His behemoth arm shook, feeling a strong pressure push it backwards. Eyes widened, seeing past the dust cloud his foe, pushing back with one arm against his own; gauntlet shining in brightness, wings unfurling away from his body showing his armor cracked all over yet his body unharmed.

"Y-YOU-!"

"Your punch needs to be a lot stronger than that to breach Azrael's winged defense," Driscoll replied, grinning as he held the middle of the massive fingers in a vice grip. Blue veins throbbed underneath, changing from a light color to a dark blue, and he yelled out with glee. "Now. Let me show you. A real punch!"

"BASSSSSTAAAAAAARD!" Yammy howled, pulling back his other arm and swinging at him from the side. Avoiding it in a flicker of swift movement, the large Arrancar whiffed, the air distending and pushing out in a gale from the super momentum he unleashed.

Leaving his face completely open to the Sternritter.

"Sankt Faust," Driscoll intoned in almost a whisper, his fist swinging into Yammy's facial center; the outline of a winged beast of three heads, one man, goat and lion, all howling as one in a streak of holy fire and force coiled about Sternritter's fist.

Straight into the Arrancar's head.

"Dreigesichtiger Balg!"

KOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

His own shout became muted in the face of the holy howl of fiery reishi. Crashing into the skull, blood boiled out in streams from the eye sockets, the exterior line of teeth crumbled, the massive nose mangled into paste and the ears on the side of the head ruptured outward.

The force alone sent a ripple of destructive light, shaving off the top of the palace and flickered to the ends of the horizon; forcing Yammy to buckle up off his large millipede body and fall onto his back with a thunderous impact that rumbled the Varvhelt soil below.

Breathing out a waft of steam from his mouth, Driscoll loosened his body and allowed reishi to repair his armor once more. As he looked out at the massive Arrancar laid out across the land, he found himself surprised. Smoke rose off the burnt skull, hiding its hideous wounds from sighthis body convulsing and writhing about.

He's still alive? Driscoll thought with amazement. That should have been it. Just what kind of stuff is he made out of now?

"Iiiiooiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrt," He graveled out, a hand covering his scorched and cracked skull. "Iiiiooiiirrrrrrrrrrrrrt!"

"This is just sad," Driscoll proclaimed, looking out at Yammy with a bemusing grin. "If you just let me kill you, this wouldn't be hurting so much. Now I'm going to have to cut you down to size," he said, gesturing to his right, forming a large spear for him to grasp in his gauntlet wrapped hand, "Piece by piece!"

"Beiiiiiiinghrrrrrrt," He rumbles out, uncovering his mangled, burnt visage to stare red-eyed at the hovering angelic being, "PISSES ME OFF!"

His mouth cracked open, unveiling a swirling darkness that revved up into a massive sphere of reishi.

Cero Oscuras.

A massive thuum followed the firing of an ungodly wave of darkness, aiming to swallow the holy warrior within its unforgiving maws. Yammy grinned past his burned, bloodied wounds, seeing the darkness he fired even crack the jaws of light up above in its destructive wake.

Yet, the darkness seemed to not erode away. It felt pulled in, siphoned in a cyclone of bluish light.

"I have to admit, you almost got me there," Driscoll confessed, a smile adorned on his face as he became visible from the condensing pitch black energy. Clad over his armor, he looked to be a fallen angel rather than a pure being, coloring a dark shine over his winged armor in a crackling aura of enhanced reiatsu. "Had I not used Sklavrei, you might have destroyed my armor. Your strength alone has been entertaining, but I can never call you the strongest," he ends, raising his bristling black spear, the blade enlarging to be four times the size and length in bright bluish-black reishi, "because I am here!"

Yammy Llargo saw a monstrous blur of black, forming a cleaving blade of darkness, crashing painfully down the middle of his underbelly straight down the tail. He choked out a fountain of ichor, his belly split open with innards and gore spouting out as he's torn in twain in a large clean stroke.

Coughing out, he raised an arm, straining to reach Driscoll.

He quickly found it severed right before his eyes.

"D-DAMN IT!" He cried out, seeing the darkness slowly ebb off the holy winged warrior float in the air with the spear held in both hands. "WHY…CAN'T I…BEAT…YOU?!"

"I told you before," Berci replied, raising the spear up over his head. "In this place, at this moment," he finished, slashing the spear along his neck and chest in a searing cut of reishi, "I am the strongest!"

Blood splurged out, Yammy's eyes turned white as his mangled mouth contorted into a deranged expression. Driscoll wondered why, then heard the sound of cracking glass.

He turned, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"My spear-!" The Quincy gasped, seeing the blade had shattered into pieces, straight down to the handle from where he held the stave.

"I UNDERSTAND," Yammy's voice rumbles, his body contorting and twisting, reishi wafting off the wounds and flesh, pulled inside by a newfound pressure. Like a vacuum it all just became swallowed into a grotesque core of tissue, muscle and reiryoku.

All while a boomimg voice echoed out from the ball of monstrous flesh.

"I JUST NEEDED TO CALM MY RAGE JUST ENOUGH TO GET STRONGER. STRONGER THAN YOU!"

Driscoll's eyes widened, his hairs standing on end with hise senses. Danger came from this new form.

Twisting his spear around, he hurtled it down at the mass of condensed dark red reiatsu.

CLANG!

The Sternritter observed a large appendage shoot out of the orb of flesh, punching the spear to rebound away in a spiral. Catching his weapon in mid-spin, he zoomed down, slashing his pole armed weapon at the manifesting folds of flesh and fire.

Another arm swooped forth, catching the reishi lance before it could come down. Driscoll felt himself unable to pull it back, a vice grip locked the weapon in place.

"You scared, Quincy?" Yammy asked, his head emerging in a viscous squelch upward, his chest unfolding along with two bipedal appendages. His new height, albeit much smaller than the previous, still towered over Driscoll's 7ft 3in frame by another meter.

Broader across, while his chest maintained a similar muscular physique enamored with the carbon growths jutting out of shoulders and around his abs, his legs sported bulging legs with carbon growths jutting from the knees down to a row of black spikes from his feet.

The most impressive part where the bulk of his arms, each one nearly and large wide as his chest, reaching down past his knees like a hairless ape's appendages; sporting more of the black growths, though these jutted from his elbows and dangled ethereal chains behind in a demonic jingle.

The mask fragment changed around from beneath his mouth to circling around his entire jaw, the dark ridges over his skull a pitch black, resembling blades surgically embedded into his head. Eyes a pure white with no pupils or irises, the almost glowed with passive malice reflected with the grin spreading across his face.

The Quincy beheld this new transformation and felt sweat bead down across his face from where his helmet is visible. He took a step back, his throat constricting in place and his heart throbbed rapidly beneath his armor.

This Reiatsu…what kind of monster is he?! He thought, feeling alarmed an Arrancar this strong existed.

Crunching the reishi spear in his grip, Yammy laughed deeply, opening the massive palm to sprinkle the fragments of reishi on the floor below.

"I'll take that as a yes," The Cero Espada graveled out.

Berci only had a moment to react.

A massive blur of flesh struck the front of the Sternritter, his eye bulging out and body lurching with the brunt of the connection of knuckles over his body. Time slowed to a crawl, allowing him to feel the twist of the giant wrist grinding into him, the groan of reishi armor and the hiss escaping his teeth not going unnoticed.

Then, the arm finished rotation, catapulting him backwards like a railgun. A streak of crimson curled over the blue, a cone of destructive air pressure left in the wake of an instantaneous crack of blue light; it appeared like a lightning bolt that carved a straight line into the horizon, strafing by the eastern side of the Palace of the Sun.

Landing at the end of a hissing trench of steam, Driscoll slowly rose out, heaving heavily. The helmet had shattered, blood oozing from his cheeks and nose, his eyes bloodshot from exertion. His arms bloodied and bruised, having folded upwards to protect his scarred chest from the earlier La Muerte impact.

Eyeing the stubs that used to be his bladed wings, he rasped for air and thanked his use of quick defense of his Vollstandig.

Had I reacted a second later, I'd be pushing up daisies right about now…

Yet, even with the pain from the blindingly swift attack, he felt power rush through him. His muscles bulged, veins pulsing with power all across his wounded but standing physique.

"Ah, so you survived," Yammy's voice rumbles behind Driscoll.

Twisting on the balls of his feet, he slammed his fist into the Arrancar. A blast of force in a flash threw Yammy back, though halted through a stomp into the ground.

"Heh, that hurt," He replied evenly, lowering a scorched fist mark from his massive forearm he used to block the strike.

Stretching his arms out, Driscoll reforged his Vollstandig, plates of reishi borne metal restored over his chest, arms and legs. His helmet donning over his head, he raised his fists in readiness to continue fighting.

"I'm going to enjoy peeling that arm off again," Yammy chuckled, his massive fists raised to bare at his foe.

"And I will enjoy mounting your head in my quarters," Driscoll jeered.

The pair stared off at each other, eerily quiet compared to their fight's start. Each recognized the other's strength, having tasted blood and felt pain from the battle's progress. Now that they were at their peak, only one could stand up the next time the other falls down.

Bending their knees, both throttled at each other, fists clenched and swinging out their dominant arm to connect with the other's.

VOOOOOOM!

An incredible collision of power halted their battle, each warrior halting to feel the waves of incredible pressure being given off from familiar people. Driscoll sweat in recognition, turning to his left, seeing what Yammy only peered a white glare towards.

"Almighty-!" Driscoll croaked out.

Just as Driscoll shouted, a white blade collided with a black saber. Having driven through the many barriers of the palace, the two warriors pierced high above into the black sky, away from the Jaws of Light. There dueling in an exchange of sword strikes is a pair of iconic figures the two self proclaimed strongest recognized.

Grimmjow Jeaguerjaques, the now Tres Espada under Aaroniero's recreation, smiling fiercely with a swing of his rectangular guarded katana at his adversary. Apart from some superficial scuffs and scrapes, he looked none worse for wear from the battle he engaged in.

Yhwach, the Father of Quincies, opposed in cloak of black over a dirtied yet straight uniform of white. Parrying the Arrancar's sword with his black sword with an eagle winged guard of silver, the black edge deflected the wild flurry of deadly strokes aiming to penetrate past his lofty defenses.

Dark blue over bright azure, the reiatsu coned out behind each combatant as they swirled within the heavens, colliding repeatedly against one another with furious fervor. The amount of slashes were beyond count, each fighter drawing out the battle to find an opening either could exploit.

And then, after thousands of sword swings, did one warrior catch the other off guard.

Amidst a savage flurry, Yhwach stepped forward into Grimmjow's space. Deflecting his sword, the butt of the saber crashed into his chest mightily with a thuum of force shooting through his body. His mouth agape, a flare of blue shot him fully into the chest, sending him crashing into the ground with an explosive impact.

"Damn-!" He gasped, wincing with one eye shut and a had clutching over the angry scorched bruise over his chest.

He didn't have long to process, both eyes open to see a black specter descending razor edge seeking out his left eye. Slashing it away with his Zanpakutō, he threw out a kick, making impact with a palm to send his foe back a dozen meters.

Cocking a grin, he threw his hand out, firing thousands of Heilig Pfeil at the rising Arrancar.

"Like that shit," The Tres Espada sneered, revving a crimson ball of light in his palm and releasing it to overwhelm the sideways rainfall of light, "WOULD WORK ON ME!"

A sudden shift of movement came beside him, alarming the Arrancar. He turned, his arm raised in defense with Hierro primed-

SHUNK!

"What?!" Grimmjow cried out, feeling pain shoot up his arm as a savage stroke of black slashed deeply through his arm. In a splash of blood, he snarled as he lunged his affected hand out to snatch Yhwach's throat.

Only for the man to adeptly step back and arc his blade expertly around like a crescent moon. His arm left him from his left side - a painful memory breaching the surface of his psyche at that moment - the appendage arching into the air with a trail of crimson from the point of severance.

Grunting, the Arrancar clenched his sword wielding hand over the wound, visibly sweating with throbbing veins of anger and confusion.

"I see you've realized, that this battle won't work out the way you thought," Yhwach said smugly, brandishing his sword up, trails of red dripping onto the pale earth below him. "This is my blade, Säubern. It can cut through any bonds of reishi I come in contact with. The more I strike it, the bonds deteriorate and eventually collapse outright."

"That's bullshit!" Grimmjow shouted back with denial. "We've clashed against each other's blades already. If your sword does as it says, it would've broken my Zanpakutō already!"

"The bonds of a blade are different than the bonds of reishi," He explained away, swinging the sword to throw the blood off his black tinted weapon. "Your Zanpakutō's edge is surprisingly resilient, and even its flat to the hilt, all resistant to my blade's power. But your Cero, your Hierro, every technique you possess is something Säubern can cut. In other words," he said in a swift dash back into Grimmjow's space, slashing in a black arc towards his throat, "There is no hope for you to survive it!"

Throughout the entire explanation, Grimmjow hadn't listened. Instead he closed his eyes, making it look like it's because of the pain. Instead his Pesquisa homed in on the massive flare of light that made up Yhwach's reiatsu.

Pushing it further, and further, he locked in on something else. Something smaller, and concentrated form of reiryoku.

The hum of metal graced the air, whooshing through flecks of blue hair as he ducked at the last possible instant. Swinging his blade with a clenched fist, he knocked the sword arm of the Quincy upwards as he rose up-

KRAK!

"HNGH!" Yhwach grunted, his head crashed into by Grimmjow's forehead. He retaliated with an arc of light ebbing from his offhand.

A snatching hand caught his own wrist, surprising the Quincy, swiftly regenerating out of the stump in an instant. In this moment, a brutal knee collided into his chest, grinding up to collide with his chin following a snap of his foot to complete the blow. Sent up into the air, he'd feel a vice grip latch over his ankle and haul him down in a quaking impact into the ground.

"I don't care if you have a weapon that can cut through anything," Grimmjow snarled out, lifting the Quincy King up and kicking him across the back, bowling him across space. Reaching him in a dash, his sword collided with his enemy's, his eyes flashing angrily with bared teeth as he continued shouting out. "I'll never lose to an old has-been who's never had to struggle a day in his life to achieve everything!"

Yhwach's eyes widened at this. Memories flashed before him within the sparking reishi ebbing off his blade. He saw every soldier, every Sternritter, from beginning to end. The deaths in bloodshed and fire, the pain of his own journey he's embarked only to suffer a horrid demise by the Shinigami.

Veins throbbed over his brow, fury burning in his red eyes as a wellspring of strength brought to the fore and a strong hand grasped the razor edge of Grimmjow's sword. Shoving it back into his chest, a crushing blue-veined fist crashed against space where his Hollow hole would be on the Arrancar's chest; tearing away the fabric around it, it caused his eyes to widen and mouth go agape.

THUUUUUUUUM!

Thrown backwards, the Arrancar flew uncontrollably across the vast horizon, far away from the Palace of the Sun. Like a rocket he blew with a cone of air pressure around his body, carving the ground and sky with his rapid propulsion. His body dropped, tumbled, rose up and tumbled again for a considerable distance till the environment changed from endless planes or wasteland to a sudden wall of dead trees.

Crashing through dessicated trees, devoid of life since long ago, splintered bark and trunks left in his wake as he blew past them. Blow after blow, the Arrancar felt disoriented in each dead flora he careened through.

Driving his heels forcefully into the ground, he dragged back for another dozen meters, his back hitting a tree with a thud as he came to a halt. Grimmjow heaved out a breath, desperately trying to get air back into his lungs. Clutching at his hole, he felt the filling of white substance with a white cross emblazoned over a black background.

A grim reminder where he came from, and who held power over him.

"I see you're truly blessed by the Soul King to have survived a Sankt Faust over your weak spot," Yhwach's words came as he stepped into being with a rush of wind. His cloak flourishing around in a flow of black, his sword unveiled in his right hand's grip, his eyes glaring ahead at Grimmjow hunched over. "Though you felt the damage inflicted. If I hit your skull, it will become vapor."

"Tch, I'd you could have done that, why didn't you lead with it?" Asked Grimmjow while standing more upright.

"I don't know," He confessed, his hand turning pale about the knuckles in the tight clench he had over the saber in his hand. "I merely wished to see what level your power has grown since you have been touched by the Reio. I could feel it, ever since you were drawn up by the Primera. But, what you said, so dismissively…boiled my blood," he explained, veins throbbing dark blue over his brows with a smile that didn't reach his eyes as he spoke aloud in a voice too calm for his speech, "That you would tell me that I haven't known suffering, is the speech of true ignorance coming from a Hollow that delights in the suffering it inflicts on others!"

"Cry me a river," Grimmjow sneered.

"I have lost the ability to shed tears," Yhwach said, eyes narrowing at him. "But let me pose a question to you, before we continue."

"Do I got a choice?" The Tres Espada asked sardonically.

"What does being a King mean to you?"

The question made Grimmjow quiet.

For the longest time since he could remember, the word king had been used as analogous for being the strongest. There had been kings before in Hueco Mundo, with Barragan being the oldest known one. Yet, people like Tier Harribel, Ulquiorra Schiffer and even Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck were all strong yet never claimed kingship.

What did King mean to him?

"That's simple, for it's a goal of mine to obtain that title," Grimmjow jeered with a grin, proudly raising a thumb towards his chest as he spoke, "It means to stand above all others, looking down on the weak and crushing anyone who challenges their power."

"I see," Yhwach exhaled out, his features remaining the same as he spoke calmly, "To me, being King means burdened by all those under me. The Quincy King is more than just power, but the bearer of all hopes of my kind, to push forward no matter the struggles I endure and triumph into a future where the world can be remade to something of a paradise without fear of death. That is what it means to be a King, to bear the weight of responsibility and sacrifice anything to achieve the dreams of all those that served under you!"

"Ha! In other words you're just using everything and everyone to get your way! That's every other king I've seen rise and fall," Grimmjow barked in rejection, pulling his sword around to his side, eyeing at the Quincy King with a savage grin. "But I will stand atop you, as any true king will never lose to a sanctimonious fool like you!"

Clawing at the blade, an enormous eruption of bluish light rose up from the Arrancar's body. The trees around him cracked at the pressure, tearing out of their brittle roots and crumbling on proximity by the fierce wave of spirit energy filling the air.

Yhwach stared ahead unfazed, hand still clenching his blade in anger, all while the power rose up considerably higher and higher still. Watching him drag his fingers along the flat of the sword in a swathe of fiery sparks, he heard him cry out.

"Grind, Pantera!"

And then, the rise of reiatsu swathed upward in a pillar of blue light, crushing the ground deeply, the soil waving around him in seismic force across the vast forest the two of them stood in. Blue hair arched back as a wild mane, feline ears sprouted out from the sides of his head, a crest of white keratin bone covered his forehead and spread from his neck down across his muscular, feline hybrid body. Clawed hands of black flexed, with armored curved blades a few inches apart over what looked to be vambraces, a tail whipping out from behind and a pair of black pawed feet with reversed knees akin to the back legs of a feline's in how he rested.

Inhaling out, he let out a fierce howling roar, the force of which sent a sonic boom across the sky and furthered the collapse of the forest around himself. Yhwach's eyes widened at the ferocity of the reiatsu, as well as its intense pressure.

Raising his sword in defense, he'd barely see the blur of blue over white, arching above himself.

KOOM!

Slammed by a fissure of slashing energy, the King of Quincies is throttled backwards across the carved destruction of the forest. Barely able to compose a thought, he reappeared to his right, kicking him in the side with a lurching impact. Blood escaped his mouth, feeling his ribs rattle and his form shriek away to his left. Another rapid materializing strike sent him far up into the sky of infinite blackness.

There to meet him, descending as a white wraith with blue eyes glaring down at him, came another clawing downstroke. Another shockwave rippled around the battle scarred sylvan land, Grimmjow Jeaguerjaques standing above with a smile as he stared cynically at the crater he embedded the Quincy King.

"Don't tell me that's all the resistance you had to muster, King of Quincies?!" He crowed out with a swing of his arms.

A spark of blue formed within the shroud of smoke within the hole he sent his foe. Shimmering around, swathing the cloak of black, out emerged from it, a rising wave of reiatsu flowing up like a stream from a waterfall. Blood leaked from his mouth, eyes glimmering with an almost gleeful expression.

"To think I could survive this much without my brother's power," He said to himself, looking up at Grimmjow with a sense of satisfaction.

"Be honored, Arrancar," Yhwach spoke once more, a hand raised up, showing a pentacle crest of blood glowing white rise off his body. "It's been a long time since I've had to rely on my trump card."

Grimmjow leaped back, a surge of light rising up into the black sky he hovered upon. Looking up at the five pointed pentacle christened the pillar of pure reishi, he'd see it crack like glass, dispersing into the air as a white cloaked figure rose upwards on wings of light.

Two faces engraved on either side of the head of Yhwach, Loyd and Royd from left to right, with Yhwach's visage dominant ahead of them. A horn of pure white stretches out of his forehead, with a halo hovering over the three headed man. Beautiful raiments of beautiful white robes replace the stark pale uniform, bluish embers ebbing off the divine fabric. Blue tassels wrapped around the waist, a pair of white smooth legs with feathery wings for anklets lied over them. With six wings flourishing around him from behind him, his face appearing smooth and younger, with blue eyes staring calmly ahead with wisps of black hair waving past the other two heads.

And all three spoke as one.

"Asmodel, the power of engraving two halves of Sternritter Y, the Yourself, into one form," He stated, a hallowed echo of three voices blending together as one. "You cannot win now I'm in this form. Prepare to die, Grimmjow Jeaguerjaques."

"Ha! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Grimmjow shouted with laughter, arching forward with raised claws. "That's good! Bring out all of that power! It'll make it all the sweeter when I grind that ugly mug of yours into the dirt!"

Yhwach stretched Säubern out, now clad in blue outlined white with a cross-guard of gold and a blue pentacle pommel at the end. Flicking the blade to the right, a blur of white light shot out.

Piercing through Grimmjow's shoulder out the other side, faster than he could perceive it.

"Wha-?"

"I told you," Yhwach said, the trinity of voices all speaking in condescension as he withdrew the blade with a swing, slashing a large gouge out of the Tres Espada's body. "You have no hope of winning."

A/N: And here it is. The fight of the "Strongest". King vs King. Berserker vs Berserker. I've always found the contentious topic of 'Strongest Character in BLEACH' to be an interesting one given the narrative is wildly inconsistent between what it wants out of that proclaimed statement. Every Espada boasted something they were the best at, despite being given a numerical rank, and I think that was Aizen (and Kubo probably) way of picking fun with characters that brag about something only for them to be reminded where they are on the totem pole. The only characters that didn't brag about their power until it came time to beat down someone is three of the most composed characters: Coyote Starrk, Tier Harribel, Ulquiorra and Nelliel. I don't count Barragan cause he set himself up for failure by allowing his own hubris to get the better of himself.

I remember how Yammy Llargo had the most boring transformations of all the Espada. He got big, then bigger and is implied to get even larger should the battle progress any further. Like, yes, he was stupidly strong, but so are the other upper tier Espada. So I brought back the "Tranquil Rage" Second Stage form of Ira that my Co-Author implemented all the way back in Chapter 10 (that was so long ago, I feel old). So having Driscoll bully Yammy into a terrifying threshold of power and then competing with it really shows what these two are capable of if they're allowed to get this strong.

And Grimmjow vs Yhwach/Royd. I had a lot of fun, using Grimmjow's innate fighting smarts to combat the Thousand Years of fighting experience and vast slew of abilities that even Royd himself is able to draw upon while acting as the Quincy King. Eventually I decided that Royd needed a legitimate Vollstandig, but not one he can access ordinarily, hence why he couldn't use it during the battle between himself in Canon and Yamamoto (though I wonder how well it could contend against a walking Sun).

Asmodel I felt fitted, since it's a Cherubim who had a number of interpretations on appearances, hence why a young Yhwach face is the predominant visage along with a unicorn horn and two faces of Royd and Loyd on either side. Also the blade Säubern is a reference to Tekking101 made when he wanted to name the sword Yhwach used that we still don't know the name of to this day (thanks Ichibei).

Thanks to all who continue following my story. I'll try to conclude both battles in the next update, and perhaps see what lies next for the invading Espada who are delving deeper into the Quincy lair.

Until then, may the spirits be always with you!

BUWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!