Chapter 21: The Legendary Fist, Kensei Muguruma
Their destination was clear, so at least there was no worry about getting lost.
But that was about the only good news. What awaited them ahead was far more troublesome than any of them had imagined.
In theory, the so-called "relic of the Soul King" should've been nothing more than a site holding a few of His old belongings — relics with historical value but little actual danger. Even if there were guards, it wouldn't be life-threatening. After all, if Squad Zero hadn't come down to take over, it meant the Soul King wasn't particularly concerned.
Reality, however, had other plans.
The moment they entered, they were treated to a cinematic prologue — a direct vision showing what the Soul King had done here.
If that cave they'd seen was the same one they now stood in... then that thing must still be here.
The very sword forged by the Soul King Himself.
Just fragments of His power had given birth to monsters like Kūgo Ginjō and Tsukishima Shūkurō. A weapon personally crafted by the Soul King... what kind of terrifying might would that contain? It might even rival Yhwach's elite Schutzstaffel.
The Tsunayashiro clan really outdid themselves this time.
If this were part of some conspiracy, the stakes were astronomically high.
Too dangerous. Maybe I should just find an excuse to run.
Because all information concerning the Soul King was top-secret, only a handful of people even knew about this operation. Urahara's presence alone — without any contact with the Department of Research and Development — said plenty. Knowing how those dusty old men in Central 46 operated, if something went wrong here, they'd probably sign the execution orders for the entire exploration team without batting an eye.
Guess I won't be enjoying my lazy office days anymore, huh?
Since this was an event beyond the original timeline, Mizuma's "foreknowledge advantage" was useless. The only source of reassurance he had was the presence of the other three members.
Urahara, Kensei, and Lisa all survived to the end of the original story — meaning nothing should happen to them here... right?
That said, among all those aware of this operation — captains, vice-captains, the Tsunayashiro clan, and Central 46 — Mizuma Watanabe was the lowest-ranking of the lot.
How depressing.
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"Alright, that should do it."
After setting up a few mysterious devices by the stone gate — "detectors and some insurance," according to him — Urahara walked back toward the group to check everyone's readiness.
Kensei took charge of their formation: Mizuma would lead as scout, while he and Lisa flanked Urahara, ensuring the scientist could focus on analysis without worrying about his surroundings.
And then, they moved toward the wide open chamber ahead.
Within a minute, they reached their destination.
Mizuma stepped out of the narrow tunnel first, emerging into a cavern the size of four or five football fields.
Human nature is strange — he'd been praying nothing dangerous would appear while they were walking, yet now that it seemed safe, a faint sense of emptiness filled him.
But that feeling didn't last long.
Because what lay before them was exactly like the illusion they'd witnessed earlier — except for one major difference.
There was no stone altar.
Instead, at the cavern's center stood a massive crystal, towering several meters high.
Inside it was a sword — the one the Soul King had forged with His own hands.
And coiled around that crystal... was a dragon.
The creature stretched nearly ten meters long, slender and serpentine, with four limbs and two wings. Its scales glimmered a brilliant crimson, and its narrow features gave it an oddly refined look. It lay wrapped protectively around the crystal, eyes closed, breathing steadily in slumber.
So that's why there were no lesser enemies around. This was a boss room.
The exploration team exchanged silent glances.
What else could they do? The scene was absurd. Dropping something that looked like it came straight out of a Western fantasy movie into the Soul Society — if this was truly the Soul King's work, the old man had one hell of a creative streak.
Then again, considering the Quincy aesthetic was basically German militaria chic, maybe the Soul King was just... into fusion styles.
Mizuma pointed at the dragon, hesitated for a moment, then turned to ask,
"Captain Urahara, you're the most well-read here. Any idea what we're looking at?"
Urahara blinked. "No... even I don't know everything..."
He stared at the creature, eyes narrowing behind his hat.
"The reiatsu signature isn't Shinigami. It's not Hollow, and not Quincy either... What in the world is this?"
"Well, standing around won't solve it. How about I take a closer look?" Mizuma volunteered.
"Then we'll leave it to you, Fifth Seat Watanabe," said Urahara with a nod.
Lisa instinctively stepped forward to stop him, but Mizuma waved her off and proceeded alone, slowly making his way toward the center.
When he was about ten meters away, the dragon's scales rippled. Its breathing halted.
Mizuma froze in place as its blood-red eyes opened.
Muscles tensed, light flared between its scales — and its reiatsu exploded like a balloon inflating at breakneck speed. In the mere seconds it took to rise, the threat level shot up several ranks in Mizuma's mind.
"I smell... a Shinigami. So the five rebel clans still exist, do they? Hmph, not that it matters."
The dragon's delicate, almost girlish voice clashed completely with its menacing form — but the words themselves carried enough weight to drown out the incongruity.
Kensei and Lisa didn't catch the meaning, but both Urahara's and Mizuma's expressions darkened instantly.
"Greetings, Shinigami. My name is Little Red Riding Hood."
The crimson dragon raised one wing and gestured toward the crystalized sword.
"My duty is to guard this Divine Sword and to grant every intruder the same trial."
Little... Red Riding Hood?
The name struck Mizuma like lightning.
Wait a damn second—wasn't that from that Western fairy-tale?
What was something from London's West Bureau doing here in Soul Society's East Branch?! And it was a girl not a dragon!
"I'm Watanabe Mizuma, Shinigami of Gotei 13," he managed, swallowing hard.
"You said... a trial? What do you mean by that?"
"Hmm? Does that word have another meaning?" the dragon tilted its head, then smiled sweetly — far too humanly.
"Don't worry. You'll understand soon enough."
"Understand wh—"
Before he could finish, a flash of red light filled his vision.
The dragon's tail snapped like a whip, slicing through the air with a piercing shriek — a strike that wasn't a swing but a cut, fast as light and aimed straight at his head.
If that connected, his skull would pop like a melon.
Instinct screamed for him to throw up layers of Dankū barriers — but he stopped himself, feigning frozen panic. He couldn't reveal his true power here. Worst case, this clone could die and that'd be that.
In that split second before impact, a force from behind shoved him hard out of the way.
Kensei Muguruma.
He'd closed the distance in an instant, drawing his sealed Zanpakutō — Tachikaze — still sheathed, and intercepting the dragon's blow.
The strike hit like a typhoon. The scabbard shattered with a deafening crack, and Kensei himself was launched like a ragdoll, slamming brutally into the far stone wall.
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〔TL〕
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