Governed by primal fear, Ayon abandoned what little consciousness it possessed and charged with reckless abandon.
"What shall I call you, beast?" Shiroha extended his hand midair. "Since this vessel's reiatsu is limited, let's begin with something impressive!"
Witnessing this, Sung-Sun experienced a foreboding premonition and cried out: "Ayon, withdraw immediately!"
But her warning came too late!
"BOOM!"
A deafening cacophony erupted, as if the heavens had collapsed and the earth split asunder, like divine lightning striking from cloudless skies.
An enormous blade of ice descended from above, impaling the hill-sized Ayon and pinning it to the ground.
Ayon, a creature capable of slaying a lieutenant within seconds, possessed no means to resist this magnificent sword and was dispatched with the casual ease of swatting a fly.
In truth, such an extravagant technique was unnecessary for dealing with Ayon.
Shiroha needed only a simple slash, devoid of embellishment, to eliminate this creature that had represented the greatest hope of the three Fracción.
Destroying Ayon with a colossal ice sword was akin to hunting butterflies with artillery.
For his original body, manifesting such an immense ice blade would constitute a casual exertion, barely worth acknowledgment.
Yet for this ice clone, the action consumed one-fifth of its available reiatsu—a considerable expenditure.
But spectacle remained Shiroha's lifelong pursuit.
This massive ice sword descending from the heavens proved far more dramatic than a mundane slash, and infinitely more magnificent.
Such a breathtaking display justified any reiatsu expenditure.
Besides, complete depletion of reiatsu hardly mattered.
His true body remained safely within Hueco Mundo, entirely unaffected. He would face no personal consequences.
No concern whatsoever.
Gazing upon the towering ice blade that radiated bitter cold and featured countless intricate, mystical patterns, Apache, Sung-Sun, and Mila Rose stood immobilized by shock.
Unleashing such a devastating technique without preparation or incantation—was this remotely human?
How could entities of their level, Ayon included, possibly withstand such overwhelming power?
The three women felt profoundly aggrieved.
If guilty of unforgivable sins, they would accept damnation, but why subject them to such torment by confronting them with this horrifying adversary?
Did justice still exist? Did law retain meaning? What twisted fate had arranged this encounter?
The final image they perceived was Tercera Espada Harribel's anxious countenance as she rushed toward them.
Her profound concern was unmistakable.
In this moment, they recalled their first encounter with a formidable enemy alongside Harribel.
Then, they had succumbed to fear and attempted escape, abandoning Harribel to face the opponent alone. Ultimately, they had conquered their terror and chosen to fight at her side.
This situation would prove no different.
Apache, Sung-Sun, and Mila Rose exchanged determined glances before roaring in unison: "For Lady Harribel!"
Overcoming their internal fear, their reiatsu surged instantaneously to its zenith.
The three one-armed women channeled their most devastating techniques, determined to assist Harribel against this overwhelming opponent to whatever extent possible.
And then... absolute silence fell.
As they directed their hostility toward Shiroha, the mysterious patterns adorning the ice sword flickered subtly.
A gentle exhalation of frigid air emanated outward, instantly transforming the three women—poised for their ultimate attack—into solid ice.
Against this extraordinary cold, neither the Arrancar's Hierro, their passionate determination, their unwavering loyalty, nor their active reiatsu offered any protection.
In a heartbeat, they were rendered completely defenseless. Frozen into crystalline statues without opportunity for resistance.
Having neutralized the three opponents, the towering ice blade fell silent, though it retained its breathtaking magnificence.
The sword's surroundings remained perfectly still and deathly cold, like a realm eternally suspended in time.
Here, all vitality had been extinguished, all motion ceased.
This freezing effect had transcended the limitations of conventional ice-based techniques.
The current manifestation represented something approaching transcendence, nearly beyond classification.
Shiroha didn't spare the frozen women a glance, remarking dispassionately:
"Even a single grain of sand can reflect light! The most glorious moment of your existence is likely occurring now. To be defeated by me represents the greatest honor your lives will ever know!"
Harribel, having just arrived, witnessed her three subordinates' transformation into ice sculptures.
Never had she so despised her own inadequacy.
Had she arrived sooner, perhaps this outcome might have been avoided.
Though she had hastened to their aid with all possible speed, even had she been present from the beginning, the three women would have suffered identical fates.
A warrior of Shiroha's caliber simply existed beyond conventional opposition.
Nevertheless, she could not forgive herself.
Long before this conflict began, Harribel recognized that war invariably demanded sacrifice.
But she would gladly have offered herself rather than her loyal subordinates.
Approaching the three ice statues, Harribel unleashed a Cascada infused with thermal energy, partially thawing Apache and the others before carrying them away from the immediate battlefield.
She turned toward Shiroha, inquiring coldly, "Will they survive?"
Theoretically, conventional freezing techniques wouldn't inflict permanent damage if reversed promptly.
But the one who had cast this technique was Shiroha—a man beyond conventional understanding.
Therefore, Harribel remained deeply concerned for her companions' survival.
"So this isn't merely performative sisterhood," Shiroha sighed with affected sentiment and replied:
"It's nothing significant. With timely treatment, the worst outcome might be some cognitive impairment and occasional involuntary salivation. Nothing serious."
This already represented considerable mercy.
Had he attacked personally, the result might have been fatal injuries, or perhaps slightly less severe wounds.
The severity depended entirely on his disposition.
In good spirits, he would moderate his attacks. In poor humor, he would construct graves immediately!
Recently, however, Shiroha had maintained rather pleasant temperament.
Since demonstrating his capabilities, few had dared challenge him.
Consequently, Shiroha generally refrained from employing excessive force.
The previous attack had been merely the ice sword's automatic defensive response—a simple protective reaction.
Apache and the others were simply too fragile to withstand even his indirect techniques.
Whether they could achieve complete recovery depended entirely on fortune.
It could only be said that even if the power of his ice techniques were diminished a hundredfold, their effects would remain formidable.
An ability approaching transcendence already represented pinnacle power in the realm of death, and its potential should never be underestimated.