Makoto faced this man, a Seireitei high noble who'd recently slain the former Captain of the 8th Division, now riding a wave of renown, without a trace of fear.
At his question, Makoto smirked coldly. "Name's Kuruyashiki Ryūma!"
"A pleasure to meet you!"
Beside him, Ryūma jerked his head up, staring blankly at Makoto.
Huh?
Could you not drag me into this?
Chika Shihoin let out a hearty laugh. "Not bad spirit! No wonder you could take down Yorita, then."
"C-Chika-nii…"
Yorita Shiba, gravely wounded on the ground, managed a sheepish, guilt-laden smile.
"Relax."
Chika turned, flashing him a grin. "With me here, you're safe."
Before Yorita could say more, Chika's gaze swung back to Makoto, sizing him up with a tilt of his chin. "Not gonna strike?"
His grin widened, brimming with bravado. "If you don't move now, you won't get the chance."
Makoto met his eyes, a flicker of gravity shadowing his expression.
Calmly centered, wholly focused.
"You're not worthy yet."
That single line silenced Chika.
He regarded Makoto steadily.
A wordless hush settled over the hall.
Whoosh!
Abruptly, Chika vanished from his spot, not a wisp of dust stirring beneath his feet.
When he reappeared, he was mere inches away.
His dark fingertips hovered a scant three centimeters from Makoto's eyes.
Fast! Blindingly fast!
This was… the fastest man in the Soul Society!
Yet, the instant Chika's arm breached that one-meter radius, the world in Makoto's eyes shifted.
Air, dust, sound, light.
Everything his vision could hold dimmed and stilled within that fleeting distance, the backdrop blurring into an indistinct monochrome haze.
Only the dark-skinned Chika Shihoin retained a faint, indescribable hue.
At that moment, Makoto's mind raced at its peak.
Every moving thing slowed dozens of times over in his perception.
Simultaneously, his body surged to the utmost limits of its spiritual frame.
[Bond Trait: Flawless Circle]
[Within a one-meter radius, your body instinctively reacts at the pinnacle of its neural reflexes.]
Rip!
A blade gleamed like silk, slicing through the air with a crisp, tearing note. Its path left a faint white streak, a testament to sword pressure honed to razor perfection.
Chika's eyes widened, his hand recoiling mid-motion.
Just a fraction of a second more and that strike would've severed his wrist.
Makoto's eyes blazed with bloodshot intensity, pupils dilated with crimson.
The killing intent in that gaze, sharp and unyielding as a blade, pierced Chika's heart.
An irrepressible, bloodthirsty grin split the noble's face.
"I underestimated you."
In the next breath, his blade flashed from its sheath.
A duel between two gunslingers ignited the moment their swords cleared, soaring from spark to inferno in an instant.
Their ultra-rapid slashes thickened the air between them. Countless strokes wove arcs too swift to discern, coalescing into a misty haze as their numbers swelled.
The fierce, volatile clang of steel on steel melded into a relentless, ear-splitting screech, each strike hammering into the next. Even Ryūma, merely listening nearby, felt a nauseous churn in his chest.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Sparks burst in continuous streams, flaring through the air only to be swept away by faster currents, scattering in all directions.
The sheer aftermath of their clashing blades sent dust waves rippling outward. The ground quaked at hyper-speed, undulating like ocean swells, one surge chasing the next into the distance.
Their reiatsu, unleashed in tandem, roared skyward like twin pillars, shattering the already-ruined Asaimon hall into fragments.
The towering beams of spiritual pressure pierced the heavens, visible even miles away.
The ceaseless tremor of that terrifying reiatsu left nearby Shinigami gripped by a pervasive helplessness.
Even Ryūma, standing aside, could only gape.
No room for him to intervene.
Until Makoto's voice erupted in a piercing shout, scarlet eyes aglow with threads of burning reiatsu.
"First Form - Severing Strike!"
Reiatsu and will, compressed to their blazing zenith, fused in an instant. With his blade as the fulcrum, the force unleashed.
Like thunder rending the night sky.
BOOM!!!
The reiatsu and will fused within the blade reached an apex of sharpness, a strike even Chika Shihoin wouldn't dare meet head-on, a blow brushing the pinnacle of mastery. In an instant, he vanished from Makoto's front.
The sword pressure roared forth like a flood, surging through the gap Chika had evaded, crashing relentlessly into the stone wall behind him.
A dazzling slash, radiant as a bolt of silk, cleaved through all in its path, shattered stone, towering pillars, walls, pathways, nothing could halt this strike capable of slicing an Adjuchas' steel hide. Backed by an explosive surge of reiatsu, it became a beam that scoured the earth, reducing everything within dozens of meters to a blank void.
Only a charred expanse remained, wisps of smoke curling upward.
In that fleeting reprieve, Makoto realized every muscle in his body ached to its limit. His eyes throbbed with pain, his chest heaving high with a long, ragged breath.
Too fast! Too heavy!
Was this the true might of a future First Generation Captain of the Gotei 13?
In those countless clashes moments ago, he'd felt every bone hammered by relentless blows, his muscles twisted near to breaking.
His legs, battered through untold exchanges, sank into the ground.
He couldn't even pull them free.
Yet even so, he'd managed only a defensive counter.
Yes.
No room to strike back.
But in exchange…
[Zanjutsu Bottleneck: Stage Three]
[Deathmatch in Progress – Zanjutsu Bottleneck Breakthrough ↑]
[Zanjutsu: Tier-10↑]
[Shunpo: Tier-8 ↑]
The barrage of prompts had come too fast to count the collisions or heed the little sword's usual chatter.
All he knew was that when he stopped, his stats had each climbed a rank.
Indeed, only a brush with death could ripen a soul so swiftly.
"Thrilling!"
Blood trickled from his mouth as he spoke.
His eyes blazed a vivid scarlet.
He'd endured this far solely on the unyielding will granted by Wall of Sighs.
Nearby, Yorita and Ryūma stared, stunned, both gripped by the sheer force of the scene, momentarily speechless.
A Shinigami's battle was, at its core, a clash of reiatsu.
Yet today, they'd witnessed someone shatter that ironclad rule with blade alone.
The shock wasn't theirs alone.
"Kuruyashiki Ryūma, right?"
Chika Shihoin's gaze shed its earlier flippancy, now alight with fervor. "You're the first to push me this far with such a frame!"
"Such steadfast will..."
"I acknowledge you!"
"Ryūma!"
As he spoke, he drove his Zanpakutō into the ground, slamming his left fist into his right palm. His expression grew solemn.
"Next, I'll defeat you with my full strength!"
Runes on his arm shimmered, coalescing into a deep purple gauntlet reminiscent of an insect's carapace.
Tenshi Heisō: Raiōken![1][2]
"Watch yourself."
The gauntlets clashed, ringing with crisp metallic notes. Chika assumed the Shihoin-style stance, facing a weaker foe with unprecedented gravity for the first time in his life.
"You might die."
---
[1] Tenshi Heisō: Raiōken(Heavenly Gifted Armament - Thunder King Fist): One of the Shihōin Clan's treasures like Tenshi Heisō: Hissaki Kumoi used by Yoruichi to trap Yhwach.
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Bonus Chapter:
100 Power Stones = 1 BC
300 Power Stones = 2 BC
500 Power Stones = 3 BC
700 Power Stones = 4 BC
1000 Power Stones = 5 BC
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