Chapter 10: Multi-Threaded Combat
Soul Society, Eighth Division barracks.
Mizuma's body twitched suddenly on the captain's rest bed. Then he sat up, coughing violently, his reiatsu plummeting like a cliffside collapse.
At his desk nearby, Kyōraku Shunsui froze mid-puff of his kiseru. The ever-carefree captain was on his feet in an instant, helping Mizuma steady his breathing, concern lacing his tone.
"Mizuma, what happened? Did something go wrong in Hueco Mundo?"
"Maybe… cough… a Vasto Lorde…"
Sweat streamed down Mizuma's temples. He was panting hard, but still forced himself to speak.
"I was ambushed… but it's fine. Just drained my reiryoku a little. I'll recover soon enough."
Shunsui exhaled in relief and let him lean back against the wall. "Rest here. I'll send someone to Fourth Division."
Mizuma gave a weak nod. Shunsui turned and strode out, flagging down a free-roaming division member and sending him to fetch a healer.
"A Vasto Lorde, huh… That's no small matter," he murmured, the usual lazy smile replaced by a rare, solemn expression.
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Hueco Mundo.
The Gran Rey Cero had shattered three layers of Mizuma's Dankū, yet its force still raged upward into the sky, pulverizing the stone beneath his feet with sheer spiritual pressure.
Even so, those barriers had bought him a fraction of a second—just enough for Mizuma to use Shunpo and drop to the desert floor far away.
Simultaneously operating two bodies really was troublesome. And this was when one of them was only lying down and talking; if he wanted to use this technique for actual power-ups in combat, he'd need far more training.
Still, the benefit of pretending to be weak was clear—it made the acting so much easier.
Ryugetsu's ability was temporal interference. It possessed three distinct forms—Division (Bundan), Erasure (Sakujyo), and Surge (Hōyō)—each invoked through different release phrases.
The Central 46 records only mentioned Division, but its true potential went much further.
That form allowed Mizuma to create up to two clones outside his main body. He could control all of them simultaneously and allocate his reiryoku among them at will.
That was how he'd faked the "clone's death" and the sudden drop in reiatsu that Shunsui had sensed earlier.
Of course, there were downsides.
Handling multiple bodies with one consciousness was far harder than drawing a square with one hand and a circle with the other. Every time he did it, he felt like he was suffering from spiritual schizophrenia—and if he overused it, he might just end up genuinely insane.
Fortunately, Shunsui wasn't the talkative type. If the man had stayed behind and started chatting, the difficulty of keeping both minds in sync would have skyrocketed.
Szayelaporro was by far the strongest opponent Mizuma had faced since arriving in this world, and there was no room for carelessness.
Right now, for example—
Instinct screamed a warning. Every nerve in his body flared with alarm, and he swung Ryugetsu behind him without thinking.
It was Szayelaporro.
He'd used Sonído to appear at Mizuma's back, blade already arcing downward in a brutal slash.
At this stage, Szayelaporro hadn't yet developed his "Fornicarás" ability to split his brother's soul; his fighting style was raw, unrefined—pure violence.
The sweeping strike gouged deep trenches through the white sand, dozens of meters long. It didn't have the sheer destruction of a Cero Oscuras, but it was faster, more flexible—perfect for close-quarters combat.
Yet when the blow connected, it didn't cleave through flesh.
It hit something solid—cold, unyielding, metallic.
Szayelaporro's eyes widened.
"What—?"
Mizuma's lips curled into a smirk. "Surprised? Guess what you just hit."
He wasn't going to explain it out loud—he wasn't some loudmouthed fool like Ikkaku—but baiting his opponent was always fun. And judging by the twitch in Szayelaporro's jaw, it was working.
The truth was simple. What blocked the attack wasn't Ryugetsu, but Kidō.
More precisely, Bakudō #81: Dankū.
The transparent barrier created by this spell had tremendous defensive power, though normally it couldn't move and only blocked attacks from one side—making it useless for fast-paced duels.
At least, until Mizuma re-engineered it.
By dissecting Dankū's core formula, he discovered a way to compress its size, strengthening its density and drastically reducing reiatsu consumption. Combined with the Tsūtenroku's ability to omit chanting, it became a high-speed, close-combat barrier technique.
And it had just saved his life.
But Mizuma wasn't done yet.
After deflecting the first strike, he murmured quietly, "Surge, Ryugetsu."
In the blink of an eye, Szayelaporro sensed something wrong.
Too fast.
Moments ago, he'd already analyzed the Shinigami's rhythm—annoying abilities, but slow. With a few Sonído feints, he could've overwhelmed him easily. Victory had seemed inevitable.
Now, that certainty shattered.
Mizuma's movements had suddenly doubled—no, tripled—in speed.
His right hand swung Ryugetsu, his left fired Kidō in blinding succession, thunder and steel flashing together in a seamless dance.
Within that storm of lightning, blades, and spiritual fire, Szayelaporro realized with dawning disbelief—
He was the one being pushed back.