What just happened?
Kishida stared at the crater in the ground, the figure sprawled within it, his mind still reeling.
One moment, he'd been chatting with a familiar face.
If not for the sudden blur in his vision, he might never have noticed anything amiss.
That was...
A Quincy?
Only now did a surge of relief wash over Kishida, the weight of narrowly escaped danger settling in.
His gaze toward Makoto carried a glint of reverence.
For Shinigami, nothing commanded respect like strength.
"Makoto-sama!"
"Leave the cleanup to us!"
Kishida shouted.
But Makoto showed no sign of stopping, striding slowly toward the crater, his voice calm and even:
"Kishida."
"Take your men and get back."
Kishida froze.
Before he could process the words, the twitching legs buried in the ground stilled.
Makoto's steps halted.
In the next instant, the street behind him erupted, a bulge bursting from the pavement.
Liestya's form shot from the earth, her iron staff whistling toward Makoto's back.
Makoto's Asauchi scabbard, still at his waist, traced a black arc through the air, intercepting the blow.
Zing!
Scabbard met staff, ringing with a crisp, resonant chime.
But in Makoto's peripheral vision, Liestya's face twisted into a triumphant smirk, her voice booming:
"Explode!"
Makoto instinctively stepped back.
Boom!
The moment he retreated, a flash of fire erupted where scabbard and staff had met.
Searing heat and shockwaves churned a cloud of dust, jarring the body with a shudder.
Makoto reacted swiftly, Shunpo carrying him through the smoke, emerging meters away.
His brow, though, furrowed slightly.
[Zanjutsu +1]
[Gah! Dive into the sultry Onee-san's open chest, yo!]
Something's off!
Makoto's gaze on Liestya flickered with doubt.
He'd seen it clearly.
Kishida and his squad, with just a touch from this woman, had treated her like an ally.
And those legs buried in the pit didn't seem fake...
This wasn't the work of an explosion-based ability.
So, it wasn't that kind of power?
Before Makoto could piece it together, the Quincy woman lunged forward, brandishing her staff with a feral grin, charging at him.
"Blast! Blast!"
Two swings unleashed a chain of explosions around her, each igniting a dazzling burst of fire, blindingly intense.
Makoto leapt repeatedly, his eyes locked on the woman.
Suddenly, a faint gleam flashed in his gaze, as if he'd caught something.
"Cute little guy!"
"Always keeping girls at arm's length, you'll make them hate you!"
Liestya's tone carried a playful, almost petulant lilt, like a pout.
But neither her two-meter iron staff nor the craters left by her explosions could be mistaken for anything coy.
"Is that so?"
Makoto's face broke into a smile, his demeanor still gentle: "Don't let my looks fool you, I'm pretty good at charming girls."
"Want to find out, Onee-san?"
Meeting the young man's warm gaze, Liestya's eyes narrowed, her tongue gliding slowly over her lips, a spark of excitement flickering.
Dragging her long staff behind her, it scraped the stone tiles with sharp, grating screeches, as she advanced toward Makoto.
"Then, kid."
"You'd better not dodge."
The moment her words fell, a sword-like blue gleam flashed beneath her feet.
Hirenkyaku!
When she reappeared, she was inches from Makoto.
Yet, for some reason, Makoto heeded her words, standing still, unmoving.
Kishida, watching from afar with his squad, gaped, shouting:
"Makoto-sama?!"
Whoosh!
The wind howled, silver light glinting.
Liestya's eyes blazed with thrilled bloodlust.
Then, Makoto raised a hand skyward.
Snap.
The heavy staff landed firmly in his palm.
The expected explosion never came.
A flicker of shock crossed Liestya's face.
Kishida and his men stared, eyes wide.
Instinctively, her high-heeled boots dug into the ground, straining to yank the staff back.
But no matter how she pulled, the staff, gripped in Makoto's hand, didn't budge.
Not an inch.
Makoto studied her strained, beautiful face, his tone mild:
"Your ability isn't explosion."
"Is it?"
"I noticed earlier."
"Though the ground showed explosion marks, when I started doubting, the blasts' power was noticeably weaker than before."
He glanced back at the cracked pavement from the earlier explosion.
Liestya's heart jolted, stunned.
He'd seen through her just from the difference in explosive force?
This guy.
"So..."
Makoto's face broke into a sudden smile.
His grip on the iron staff tightened, yanking with such force that the woman's entire body was hurled forward, unstoppable in the gusting wind.
Pain seared through Liestya's abdomen.
The scabbard drove deep into her clothing, folding her body in half as if her spine had snapped. She retched a stream of bile, her eyes bulging, bloodshot.
Makoto extended the scabbard, pinning her to the ground, his voice calm and commanding:
"Your ability... it's about bending my will."
"Isn't it?"
"Miss Sultry?"
Kishida and his squad watched from afar, their faces etched with awe.
They'd long heard whispers that this young prodigy was the Captain-Commander's likely successor.
But rumors paled against reality.
Seeing a Quincy powerhouse, capable of silently slaughtering them all, subdued effortlessly by Makoto sent a jolt of shock no words could capture.
"Hmph."
Yet the woman on the ground curved her lips into a slow smile: "Shinigami kid, you're stronger than I expected."
"But..."
Her eyes locked onto Makoto's: "Did you think someone like me would go down so easily?"
Makoto's brow furrowed instinctively.
A flicker of doubt stirred.
In the next instant, the figure on the ground dissolved like smoke.
A curvaceous silhouette stepped from another shadowed corner.
Leather high-heeled boots clicked sharply against the ground, the Quincy woman adjusting her military cap, chest slightly exposed, her body unscathed.
Whoosh!
The over-two-meter staff spun weightlessly in her hands, resting behind her.
She flashed a light smile at Makoto:
"A bit late, but let's make it official."
"Schrift L, Lie."
"You can call me... Liestya."
Makoto glanced at her pristine uniform, then at the crater's lingering scars.
A spark of understanding flashed in his eyes.
His demeanor remained gentle:
"I'm Makoto."
"But, Lie, huh..."
"Your ability needs to deceive someone to work, right?"
"Telling me outright, is that wise?"
Liestya's gaze carried a provocative glint, her lips curling: "If you think that's all I've got, kid, you'll regret it."
She advanced slowly toward Makoto, her tone flat: "My Lie does need a 'deceived target' to take effect."
"Sometimes it's the 'enemy,' but if needed, it can be 'myself.'"
"Self-deception, you see."
"I can pull that off too."
She looked up, a reckless grin spreading across her face: "Starting now, every thirty seconds, my strength doubles."
Makoto blinked, caught off guard.
That kind of Lie was absurdly exaggerated, wasn't it?
But before his skepticism could take root, the woman lunged.
Her speed was staggering.
Whoosh!
The solid staff, under hyperspeed, traced a humming arc through the air, rattling eardrums.
Makoto sidestepped effortlessly, his scabbard flicking out to parry the rapid strikes, though his brow creased.
He was certain he hadn't bought her claim of doubling strength every few seconds.
Yet, compared to the earlier swings he'd blocked single-handedly, Liestya's blows now carried noticeably greater force.
Still.
"Not enough."
Makoto's voice was calm, his scabbard darting into the impenetrable flurry of strikes.
A dull collision rang out.
The relentless staff dance paused for a fraction of a second, and Makoto seized the moment, stepping forward, fist cocked.
"Ikkotsu!"
His fist, wrapped in a whirlwind of force, tore through her guard, slamming into Liestya's chest.
The penetrating blow ripped through her, shredding her back's clothing, blasting a condensed vacuum path outward.
Blood sprayed from Liestya's mouth, her chest caving in.
She staggered, collapsing with a thud.
Yet, as the 'thirty-second' mark passed, her chest reinflated, bones crackling with a series of pops.
Makoto looked at her, mildly surprised.
Not only did her strength increase, but her injuries fully healed?
What a cheat of an ability.
Something felt off, though.
"Cough, cough..."
With a brief cough, Liestya rose again, her reiatsu surging, nearly coalescing around her.
Makoto's gaze grew heavier.
If this kept up, he couldn't let the fight drag on.
The thought flashed, and his feet moved.
His form vanished, then reappeared.
Liestya's eyes glinted faintly white, her golden hair drifting, her focus locked on Makoto.
Her staff swept out, arcing toward her side.
Clang!
Makoto raised his scabbard, blocking the strike, his body spinning with the staff's force, delivering a kick to Liestya's abdomen.
Her form flew back meters, but her boots clung to the ground, carving twin furrows.
This time, she withstood the blow.
"What's that, kid?"
"Only got that much in you?"
Liestya wiped a trace of blood from her lips, eyes narrowing: "My strength's nowhere near its peak."
Heavier, faster staff strikes followed.
The air's howl grew duller.
What was wrong?
Could a mere Lie multiply strength like this?
Even the Soul King's brain or heart in the original story couldn't manage that.
The issue had to lie in her 'ability.'
In the span of a few words, another thirty seconds passed.
"Ora ora ora!"
Liestya's strength doubled again from its prior peak, her staff blurring into near-continuous shadows.
The heavy staff, under terrifying force, unleashed unrelenting sonic booms.
Even Makoto, as he was now, dared not block head-on, each strike's weight reverberating clearly through his scabbard.
Liestya's grin grew smugger.
Yet the more triumphant she looked, the more hollow her 'Lie' felt.
Could strength really grow so easily?
Doubt flickered in Makoto's mind.
He replayed their encounter from start to finish.
Then it hit him.
Boom!
Scabbard clashed with staff, unleashing a deep, explosive roar.
The ground beneath them sank, tiles shattering under the impact.
"What's wrong, Shinigami kid?"
Liestya's smile turned mocking, like a hunter eyeing trapped prey: "Is this your limit?"
Makoto looked up, meeting her eyes, and echoed:
"Did you think..."
"Someone like me would go down so easily?"
Liestya froze, her smile stiffening.
Makoto's grip on the staff eased, his resistance fading.
"You said those exact words to me earlier."
"Didn't you?"
"All those other claims were just to hide that one... true 'Lie.'"
"I knew it..."
"If any random Quincy could boost their power to that old man's level, we'd have been done for long ago."
"You almost had me."
"Naughty."
Makoto chuckled softly.
But his words struck Liestya like ice.
As his final sentence landed, her expression twisted, grim.
Her body trembled faintly.
The scabbard, lightly resting on the staff, slammed down, driving the staff into her shoulder with a sharp crack of breaking bone.
She collapsed, unable to resist, kneeling into the tiles, her knees gouging twin craters.
Makoto stepped gently on her shoulder, his tone warm:
"Say..."
"You've got a way to contact your pals, right?"
He nodded at the woman sprawled beneath him, casual:
"Give it a try."
"I'm in need of a proper whetstone."
Liestya lay pinned, the sandal on her shoulder heavy as a mountain.
She struggled to lift her head, staring at the boy smiling as gently as a spring breeze.
Like he was a monster.
***
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
***
If you want to read up to 50 chapters ahead, don't hesitate to visit our patron: pat reon . com / XElenea (removespace)