The chaotic battlefield fell into a sudden, deathly silence.
Countless terrified eyes stared at the ink-black arm standing upright at the center.Something far beyond anyone's understanding had just manifested.
No one knew what had happened.Not even Kuchiki Sōjun could grasp the situation before him.
He stared blankly at the godlike figure, its deep, shadowy body crawling with countless tiny fragments of darkness—like black serpents winding across its surface. Branchlike tendrils spread outward, greedily absorbing the chaotic, overlapping spiritual pressure in the air. They crept between charred earth and the metallic stench of blood, reflecting the death gods' horrified faces.
"Hold it together!"
A furious roar suddenly erupted from among the rebels, shattering the suffocating stillness.
"It's just some illusion! Nothing to fear!"
"Katsunori Morishita will put an end to this!"
"Crush him—Jinguzumaru!"
The rebel commander lifted his zanpakutō horizontally before him. The instant his spiritual pressure erupted, a flood of white light surged outward. From the hilt, countless black thorn-covered vines shot forth, stabbing toward the shadow's right arm looming in the center of the battlefield.
Seeing this, Morishita's lips twisted into a savage grin. His arrogant voice echoed across the battlefield:
"This is the end for you, monster."
"No one escapes Jinguzumaru's binding—not even a captain!"
"Now, die obediently!"
His spiritual pressure exploded again. The dark vines glimmered with a strange light, the multitude of thorns growing wildly—expanding, contracting, twisting—trying to shred the shadow's right arm to pieces.
Witnessing the scene reignited the rebels' courage. Excitement lit up their bloodstained faces as they shouted one after another:
"Yes!! Just like that!""Lord Morishita is unstoppable!""Kill that thing! Victory will be ours!"
Hearing their shouts, Kuchiki Sōjun's heart clenched.A moment earlier, he had finally realized what that giant shadowy arm truly was.
Some time ago, he had spent a thousand Rings at the Spiritual Arts Academy to buy a protective charm.
The pattern on that charm… was identical to the massive black arm standing in the battlefield.
To be honest…
The fact that the charm had already saved him from one fatal blow made the price more than worth it.
So if the shadow arm were destroyed now, he had no reason to complain.
But the next moment overturned everything Sōjun thought he understood about the phrase "more than worth it."
The ear-grinding screech of cracking echoed repeatedly across the battlefield.
One thorn after another snapped apart—signaling that the scales of battle were tipping.
Tree-branch-like shadows crawled across the bodies of the death gods, drawing in the chaotic spiritual energy lingering in the air and crushing their defenses in an instant.
Then—
A tide-like wave of mist erupted outward.Everything on the battlefield froze in that moment.
The death gods' expressions and movements petrified, as though someone had pressed a pause button on reality.
Crack. Crack. Crack—
Explosive popping sounds echoed from the bodies wrapped in shadow, as though something inside them was breaking apart.
There was no spray of blood.No piercing screams.
When the mist finally dispersed, thirty-seven death gods had been reduced to shriveled skeletons.
The death gods on the Kuchiki side stared at the hellish scene before them and instinctively fell into a stunned daze.
Everything had happened too fast.
Before they could make sense of anything, the scales of victory had already toppled completely.
The remaining rebels shuddered violently—and without waiting for orders, turned tail and ran for their lives.
Their leader, Katsunori Morishita—an officer with seated-officer-level strength—was dead.Who would stay behind to follow him into the grave?
Seeing the rebels flee, the Kuchiki death gods shouted in excitement and immediately launched their pursuit.
Only Kuchiki Sōjun remained frozen in place, unable to snap out of the shock.
Before long, the massive battlefield was empty but for him alone.
Sōjun walked to where the shadowy right arm had stood.Only a trace of pure black dust remained on the grass.
He removed the now completely shattered protective charm hanging from his neck and muttered blankly:
"…'More than worth it' doesn't even begin to describe this."
"A thousand Rings decided the outcome of an entire war. Nothing could be a better deal!"
...
Spiritual Arts Academy — Kaidō Healing Classroom
At the front of the teaching platform, a nervous student focused on the small white mouse before him. Pale green light bloomed from his hands.
As he infused spiritual pressure, the deep, bone-revealing wound on the mouse's back began healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.Fresh tissue sprouted, pushing away trace blood clots, weaving new flesh into place.
Kaidō, in essence, was not unlike the medical ninjutsu of some distant village—stimulating cells with spiritual pressure to heal the wounded.
"Mm. Very well done."
The Kaidō instructor inspected the now-healed mouse and nodded in satisfaction.
"Follow the exact procedure I demonstrated. Inflict varying levels of injury on your mouse, then apply the Kaidō technique to heal it."
"The more severe the injury, the harder it will be to heal."
"And naturally, the higher your score in this class."
"All right—you may begin. I will be watching your form closely."
Down among the desks—
Kisaragi Akira rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then turned to Aizen Sōsuke beside him and asked bluntly:
"Sōsuke, I don't really get the Kaidō stuff. Got any tips for improving healing efficiency?"
While most people assumed Aizen was unremarkable—an average talent, somewhere in the middle of the class—
Akira knew better.
This guy's genius wasn't inferior to his own at all.
Anyone scoring perfect marks in every theory exam was definitely no ordinary student.
"…No," Aizen replied, shaking his head."Kaidō is fundamentally about meticulous control of one's spiritual pressure. There are no shortcuts—only disciplined training."
Akira sighed helplessly, then glanced down at the small mouse on his desk.
He lifted the mouse by its slender neck with his left hand, raising a scalpel in his right, pondering where to make the incision.
But then—A strange unease surged at the bottom of his heart.
Akira shivered involuntarily.
Crack.
The mouse's neck snapped clean in his grip.
Aizen let out a quiet sigh.Even in the safest class—the healing arts—this guy somehow managed to cause chaos.
Noticing Akira's behavior, the Kaidō instructor's brows furrowed deeply. He hurried toward him, crossing the classroom in just a few long strides.
Seeing this, Akira quickly placed the mouse on the desk, preparing for last-minute salvation.
A soft green light erupted from his palms.
[Miracle Hands] activated!
The next moment—
Before the astonished instructor's eyes, the mouse's broken neck slid back into place.
The little creature twitched, blinked—
And came back to life.
In that instant—
The dead rose again.