"Compared to Kendo, I'm weaker than you. Compared to Reiatsu, I'm still weaker than you. Even in Zanjutsu, I fall short."
"But when it comes to Shunpo…"
Shihōin Yoruichi's tone sharpened, her eyes gleaming with excitement and confidence.
"That's one thing I'm absolutely confident in."
"This is the third technique of the 'Four Maples'—Utsusemi."
"Watch closely, Aiyan."
Her figure blurred.
The next moment, a flash of black and gold streaked across the air. Yoruichi's movement was so fast, it left afterimages in every direction. In the blink of an eye, she was right behind Aiyan, reaching out with one hand to grab his shoulder.
"Bakudō #61: RikujōKōrō Jūren!"
Just as her palm came within ten centimeters of his back—
Boom—!
A sudden burst of golden light erupted behind Aiyan, radiant and overwhelming.
Six rods of light materialized instantly.
But they didn't stop at six.
Each one split into ten, forming a dazzling web of light—sixty golden pillars—interlocking perfectly, completely surrounding Shihōin Yoruichi from every angle.
"What?!"
Her movements froze in midair. Even her catlike agility couldn't find a way out of the trap. The rods sealed all routes of escape, boxing her in like an unbreakable cage.
"You… Aiyan! When did you master Kidō-level simulcast techniques?!"
Yoruichi gritted her teeth, shocked.
In front of the golden lattice, even if she stripped down to nothing but her soul, there was no way to slip through.
"Didn't you read the Kidō Encyclopedia?" Aiyan replied casually, still looking out over the forested mountains behind the Spiritual Arts Academy. "Simulcasting low-tier Kidō is child's play. You just need to understand the rhythm and flow."
"Maybe for basic Hadō or low-rank Bakudō," Yoruichi countered, eyes wide. "But this is Bakudō Number Sixty-One! You used it ten times in a row! That's not just about precision—it's about raw Reiatsu and absolute control."
She was shaking her head in disbelief, staring at him as though he were a walking impossibility.
"Even the captains can't just throw out ten simultaneous RikujōKōrō without degrading the power of each cast."
"Not to mention… doing it without a chant…"
Aiyan didn't respond immediately. He merely raised an eyebrow and turned to face her fully.
"Did I say I used a pseudo chant?"
Yoruichi narrowed her eyes. "If not pseudo-chanting… then what?"
"Abandonment Chant." His voice was calm, almost matter-of-fact. "Not pseudo. Not dual. Not reinforced. Just abandonment."
"Abandonment Chant…?"
Yoruichi frowned, racking her brain. She had never seen that term in any training manual or scroll.
"Never heard of it? No surprise," Aiyan said with a soft chuckle. "I invented it."
"You what?!"
Yoruichi's mouth fell open like a fish gasping for air. "You created a new Kidō casting technique? When?"
"Two days ago."
The silence that followed was almost deafening.
"…Aiyan, are you sure you're a Shinigami? Are you even the same species as the rest of us?"
"I mean, come on! Six years in the Academy, and I've never heard of someone doing that! First, you create your own Zanjutsu. Then you pin Hirako Shinji to a wall with a single strike. And now you're throwing out ten fully powered RikujōKōrō without chanting, like it's nothing?"
Aiyan simply shrugged.
"And you—what are you doing here?" he asked, brushing aside the compliments. "Aren't you supposed to be skipping school and hiding from nobles? What brings the Flash Goddess-in-training all the way out to the mountains?"
He didn't want to get too deep into his own progress.
He couldn't exactly explain that ever since Unohana Yachiru came to him that night and challenged him beneath the moonlight—declaring him the true Kenpachi—everything had changed.
Swordsmanship had become a battlefield of pride and dominance.
Even his Zanpakutō, Kōfuin, had awakened its Bankai, developing an arrogant will of its own—judging everything from Kendo to Kidō with disdain.
If not for that competitive pressure, Aiyan wouldn't have pushed himself this far in Kidō. Not just for strength, but to silence that arrogant sword.
So, in just a few days, he pushed himself to master Hadō and Bakudō, creating a new style of chanting altogether.
And what he created was revolutionary.
The Abandonment Chant combined the best traits of three techniques:
Abandon Chanting: Using only the Kidō name, without any verbal spell, relying on pure Reiatsu.
Double Chanting: A high-level technique where two Kidō are woven together and released simultaneously.
Pseudo Chanting: A simplified version that sacrifices power for speed and utility.
But Aiyan went further.
His Abandonment Chorus allowed him to cast multiple Kidō at once, even high-level spells—two, three, even ten at once—while maintaining their full power.
And the cost?
Far less than the classic Double Chanting.
This technique was so refined, it could replace older styles entirely. And it worked for any Kidō rank—even the elite Hadō #90s series.
"That's impossible," Yoruichi finally muttered, her voice a whisper.
"Even if I had your raw power, that level of control… it's like you were born to master Kidō."
"Maybe I was," Aiyan replied calmly. "Or maybe I just trained harder than anyone else."
"Tch. Modest too, huh?"
She sighed, still tangled in goldenrods, then narrowed her eyes with a smirk.
"Okay, genius—how about letting me out now?"
Aiyan chuckled and snapped his fingers. The goldenrods vanished instantly, fading into sparks.
Yoruichi stretched her limbs, cracking her knuckles.
"…Alright then. Since we're on the topic of training, how about a little wager next time?" she grinned.
"If you can master Shunkō within a week, I'll acknowledge you as my equal in Shunpo."
Aiyan raised an eyebrow. "Shunkō? The fusion of Kidō and Hakuda?"
"Exactly."
She flicked his forehead playfully. "Let's see if you can handle more than just shiny lights and elegant chants, Mr. Genius."
Aiyan turned to look at the sunrise blooming over Seireitei.
"…Challenge accepted."
...
[If you're enjoying the story, please leave a power stone and comment. I really appreciate your support]