Gabriel watched with eager eyes as the fight went on. Shawlong had realized that something was wrong.
Something was, in fact, very wrong.
Either he had the worst hand-eye coordination ever, or—no matter what he did—he could not hit Lucius at all.
It was like trying to hit something that wasn't there.
His blade would swing, but the moment it got close—it slowed. Not in a natural way, not like resistance or blocking—it was as if space itself was rejecting him, making it impossible to reach his opponent.
The fuck was this? He didn't understand, but he knew it was bullshit the second he made eye contact with it.
It was just a gut feeling, though.
However, he was the lesser sin of Wrath. He was not one to be fucked with. He would not let down Grimmjow.
He released all of the power he had in his base form.
"You understand now, don't you? This is beyond your reach."
Lucius looked cocky, his arms folded. He wouldn't lose.
He couldn't lose.
Not with the authority he possessed.
Unlike his master/superior/greater sin Neliel's power, his was weaker. It looked more busted, but it was weaker.
With her sin, she could just say she stood above him, and immediately, that would negate his power and let her beat his ass.
Shit was unfair.
Meanwhile, Shawlong hated being toyed with.
Shawlong narrowed his eyes. If attacking directly wouldn't work—he would go all out.
"Silence, Tijereta."
With a surge of power, Shawlong released his Resurrección, his claws gleaming with cutting power. His speed shot up, and he blurred forward—yet, just like before, every slash, every strike, every attempt to land a blow was stopped before it could connect.
"You're trying so hard for something impossible."
Lucius was bored with this man's pathetic attempts at trying to kill him.
That was sad.
He was the strongest lesser sin present here.
He didn't have access to his Shikai or Bankai—only his Resurrección. Well, no biggie. He'd get there eventually.
Deciding to finish this, he poured more of his power into his sword.
Then, he struck back.
"Eternal Divide."
A slash rippled through the air—delayed, invisible, and absolute. Shawlong dodged instinctively—only to suddenly feel the wound open across his chest seconds later.
He barely had time to process what had happened before another cut followed, a delayed attack striking after he had already moved past it.
Gritting his teeth, he tried to counter. He rushed in, ignoring the delayed slashes carving across his body. If he couldn't attack directly, he'd just overpower the technique—
"Absolute Dissonance."
Shawlong's movements froze.
No—space compressed around him, stopping him mid-motion. His own reiatsu strained against the invisible force, but it was clear—Lucius was controlling the battlefield itself.
Lucius sighed, shaking his head.
"Disappointing."
With one final attack—
"Dimensional Crash."
Lucius lunged forward, a single, devastating strike slamming into Shawlong and sending him flying across the arena. He skidded to a stop, panting, his body screaming in pain.
Lucius stood tall, barely looking winded. His smirk deepened as he turned toward the throne above, where Gabriel sat. He bowed, a display of respect to the king.
After all, he was His Majesty's greatest project. He had to make His Majesty proud with the showcase of his skill.
He was sure he would get boosted once more—maybe get some more dead Nephilim as a snack.
That would be nice. That would surely boost his power enough to reach Bankai.
Then, he turned and walked back toward Neliel.
He expected praise. Admiration. Or just straight-up glaze. He deserved it, really. Maybe some top. Something, at the very least.
Anything.
"You wasted too much energy."
Those were Nell's harsh words.
Yes, they were true. Yes, he could have ended the match in one move. But he wanted to flex, okay?
"Excuse me?"
He was puzzled. Where was his glaze? Where was his D-riding?
"You're not done yet. This wasn't the final match, and yet, you threw around your power like an idiot. You'll regret it later."
Hm. She seemed to have thought of the future.
That was nice. Shame he didn't do that.
He probably would be drained by the final match.
Didn't matter.
He would win no matter who he faced.
"You worry too much. They're bugs. No one here is even worth—"
He scoffed.
To them, they were bugs. Nowhere near his perfect and splendid level.
Apart from His Majesty, he was the most perfect creation in Hueco Mundo. A perfect fusion of Hollow and Shinigami.
Granted, he was quite young—only six months old. His memory of himself as a Hollow did not remain. Only his personality did.
She flicked him on the forehead.
"Ow—"
She was strong.
"Pride's good, but yours is annoying," she muttered, shaking her head.
Meanwhile, across the arena, Shawlong Kufang struggled to stand.
He turned toward Grimmjow, lowering his head in apology.
"Forgive me. I was too weak."
Grimmjow tsked, arms crossed.
"Don't lose again."
No anger.
No sympathy.
Just an expectation.
To be better.
Shawlong clenched his fists.
Next time, he wouldn't lose.
He was better than this, and he would prove it to Grimmjow, he would not lose.
A/N...place y'all bet which lesser sin will win this tournament, frankly you guy have all the info needed, most of the character so far are as strong as they were in canon. Lilith is stronger than the tres bestia, even if they team, Lazaro is very strong and Lucius is a nephilim.