"I didn't expect that we would meet in the round of 16," Cole Kong said, a wry smile playing across his face as he stood next to Russell, staring at the tournament schedule blazing across the massive screen. The fluorescent letters seemed to mock him—their names locked in opposing brackets like destined enemies. He really hadn't wanted to run into Russell this early, but fate had other plans.
"I will do my best," Cole declared, whirling to face Russell with fire dancing in his eyes like molten steel. His fists clenched unconsciously, knuckles white with determination. "Let me show you the results of my blood, sweat, and tears during this period!"
Russell glanced at the passionate young man beside him, noting the slight tremor in Cole's voice—not fear, but barely contained excitement. He sighed helplessly, running a hand through his hair. "Don't make me sound like some final boss."
His deadpan delivery shattered the tension like glass, and Cole burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the arena corridors. Since their match wasn't first, they returned to the stands after the schedule was announced, the weight of their impending clash hanging between them like a storm cloud.
The first match erupted between Holden from Seaview High and Julian from Wujun First High. Russell had a slight impression of Holden; he had seen his name circled in red in the dossier Misty had provided—a seeded player, just like himself, with a reputation for ruthless efficiency.
SHRILL!
The referee's whistle pierced the air like a battle cry, and the arena exploded into motion. The card Holden summoned materialized in a swirl of dark energy—a tiger-like demon that seemed forged from nightmares and shadow. Its massive form rippled with ethereal muscle, ghostly wisps trailing from its midnight fur like smoke from a funeral pyre. The creature's eyes burned with an otherworldly amber light, and when it moved, the very air seemed to bend around it, wind howling in its wake.
From the stands, Russell's analytical mind catalogued every detail. The demon could control wind—that much was obvious from the micro-tornadoes spiraling around its paws—but there were deeper mysteries in its movement, subtle manipulations of air pressure that spoke of more sophisticated abilities.
Julian, meanwhile, looked like a deer caught in headlights. His cards flickered into existence with nervous energy, but even from a distance, Russell could see the tremor in the boy's hands. Sometimes luck was also a part of strength, but luck had a way of running out when it mattered most.
ROOOAAARRR!
The tiger demon's battle cry shook the arena foundations, a sound that seemed to come from the depths of hell itself. It launched forward with predatory grace, each massive paw leaving cracks in the reinforced floor. Julian's cards—a pitiful collection of defensive barriers and minor elementals—stood no chance.
The demon's claws, gleaming like obsidian razors and seeming to drip with the phantom scent of blood, slashed through the air with surgical precision. Julian's barriers shattered like paper in a hurricane, his elementals dissipating into sparkles of fading light that danced mockingly in the arena's harsh illumination.
CRASH! CRACK! BOOM!
Each impact sent shockwaves through the stands, and Russell felt the vibrations in his bones. The massacre was systematic, beautiful in its brutality. Julian's final desperate summon—a bronze-level knight that had probably cost him months of savings—lasted exactly three seconds before the demon's wind-enhanced claws carved through its armor like butter.
In the arena, Holden stood amidst the carnage with cold indifference, his expression as unmoved as carved stone. A hint of disappointment flickered in his dark eyes as he surveyed the devastation. "This kind of trash can make it to the top 16?" The thought echoed in his mind like a mantra of disgust. His gaze swept over the stands like a hawk searching for prey, settling on Russell with laser focus. "The only true heroes in this world are Russell and myself."
From the sidelines, Russell caught Holden's stare and felt the weight of challenge in it—a predator recognizing another predator. But his thoughts drifted to his previous opponent, Shane, and he felt a pang of sympathy. Poor Shane. If he had been matched against Julian instead of me, he definitely would have advanced.
Since Holden's systematic destruction had left the duel venue remarkably intact, the second battle began within minutes. The arena crews worked with practiced efficiency, clearing away the scattered card fragments and resetting the energy barriers.
"RUSSELL VERSUS COLE KONG!"
The announcer's voice boomed through the arena like thunder, and twenty thousand spectators erupted in a cacophony of cheers and screams. This was the match everyone had been waiting for—the clash between the tournament's dark horse and the mysterious prodigy.
Cole stepped into the arena with newfound confidence radiating from every pore. His previous nervousness had been replaced by steely determination, and when he raised his hand, three cards materialized with explosive energy.
FLASH! BOOM! CRACK!
The summoning created a light show that had the audience gasping. Two bronze-level cards and one black iron-level card materialized in a triangle formation, but Russell's experienced eye immediately caught the seamless energy flow between them. This wasn't just a collection of cards—it was a perfectly synchronized battle unit.
Russell's analytical mind raced as he catalogued the threat. Two bronze-level cards and one black iron-level card? But one of them has never appeared before. Are all three of them part of a bond? The tactical implications were staggering.
The familiar duo stood ready for war—the Iron-level [The Unbegotten] archer, its ethereal form crackling with dark energy, and the Bronze-level [Armored Beast · Bo], its metallic hide gleaming like polished steel. But the third card... Russell had never seen it before, and the unknown was always dangerous.
It was a tree—but not just any tree. This was something ancient and primordial, its trunk easily ten feet in diameter and covered in bark that looked like hardened lava. The moment it appeared, its roots didn't just dig into the ground—they exploded downward with the force of pile drivers, sending spider-web cracks racing across the arena floor.
RUMBLE! CRACK! BOOM!
The root system spread like a virus beneath the surface, and Russell could almost feel the arena's foundation groaning under the assault. Fusang? Jianmu? His mind raced through mythological possibilities. All of Cole's cards were from the Classic of Mountains and Seas, and if he could now create a juvenile version of one of those divine trees...
Just as Russell was processing the implications, Cole's voice rang out across the arena, dripping with confidence and barely contained excitement. "How is it, Russell? Surprised?"
Russell's response was immediate and decisive. He raised his hand, and three cards erupted into existence with their own spectacular display of power.
FLASH! WHOOSH! BOOM!
Kaneki materialized in a swirl of crimson energy, his kagune writhing like living serpents of bone and sinew. Despite being Iron-level, the card's red quality made it pulse with dangerous potential. Yoriichi appeared in a flash of silver light, his hand already resting on his Zanpakutō's hilt, every line of his body screaming lethal precision. And Luffy burst into existence with his trademark grin, knuckles already cracking as he prepared for battle.
The arena fell silent for a heartbeat, the calm before the storm. Then—
SHRILL!
The referee's whistle shattered the tension like a gunshot, and hell broke loose.
Yoriichi vanished.
Not moved fast—vanished. One moment he was standing twenty feet away, the next he was a silver blur cutting through the air like a lightning bolt. When he reappeared, his Zanpakutō was already in motion, the blade singing through the air toward [Armored Beast · Bo] with enough force to split mountains.
CLANG!
The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the arena, and sparks exploded like fireworks. A golden, sword-shaped shadow had materialized from the beast's armor, meeting Yoriichi's blade with a resonant crash that made the audience's teeth ache. But shadows, no matter how solid, were no match for a master swordsman.
"Hadō #1: Thrust."
The incantation was whispered like a prayer, but the result was devastating. An invisible lance of pure force erupted from Yoriichi's fingertips, striking the shadow construct with surgical precision. The golden blade shattered like glass, fragments spinning through the air in glittering arcs.
Yoriichi flowed like water, his body dropping low as he closed the distance with inhuman speed. But the [Armored Beast · Bo] wasn't helpless—several phantom swords condensed from thin air, each one gleaming with deadly intent as they stabbed toward him in a coordinated assault.
DING! DING! DING! DING!
Sparks flew like a Fourth of July celebration as Yoriichi's blade danced through the air, deflecting each phantom sword with movements so fluid they seemed choreographed. But the sheer number forced him to give ground, his feet sliding across the arena floor as he parried strike after strike.
[The Unbegotten] rider seized the opportunity, its spectral hands grasping the longbow that materialized in its grip. The weapon hummed with dark energy, and when the archer drew back the ethereal string, the very air seemed to scream in protest.
THWANG!
The pitch-black arrow tore through the air with a sound like ripping silk, trailing wisps of shadow that left temporary tears in reality itself. But Yoriichi wasn't alone on this battlefield.
CRASH!
A massive centipede kagune erupted from the ground like a crimson geyser, its bone-like segments gleaming as it intercepted the arrow in a shower of sparks. Kaneki rose from his concealed position, his kagune writhing around him like the arms of an angry god.
"Gum-Gum Jet Pistol!"
Luffy's battle cry echoed across the arena as he switched to Gear Second, steam literally rising from his body as his cardiovascular system went into overdrive. His arm stretched back impossibly far, building potential energy like a loaded spring, before snapping forward with the force of a cannonball.
SMACK!
The impact was earth-shaking. Luffy's fist, moving at supersonic speed, smashed through the beast's defenses and connected with its armored hide. The sound was like a building collapsing, and the [Armored Beast · Bo] actually left the ground, its massive form staggering backward as cracks appeared in its previously impenetrable armor.
The crowd went wild, their cheers reaching a fever pitch. But the celebration was premature.
Just as Yoriichi pressed forward to capitalize on the opening, a thick vine—easily three feet in diameter—came whipping through the air like a massive green whip. It moved with serpentine grace, cutting through the space where Yoriichi's head had been a split second earlier.
The ancient tree had finally joined the battle, and Russell's blood turned to ice as he watched more vines erupt from its base. But what really caught his attention was the soft green glow emanating from the beast's wounds—wounds that were closing with visible speed.
"Recovery, control, and protection," Russell whispered, his analytical mind cataloguing the threat while his heart hammered against his ribs. The tactical situation had just become infinitely more complex. "This is a bit tricky. But I hope it's not the Fusang tree."
Under the current circumstances, a protracted war would be a losing battle for him. The tree's healing ability meant that any damage they inflicted would be temporary, while his own cards had no such regenerative powers. It was a battle of attrition he couldn't win.
Russell's mind raced through his options. Luffy was threatening, especially in Gear Third—the raw destructive power might be enough to overwhelm even the tree's healing. But since Yoriichi was already on the field, there was a more elegant solution. A nuclear option that he had been saving for the finals.
If the opponent's tree really was the legendary Fusang, where ten suns bathed in its branches, Russell would never let Yoriichi release his fire-based Zanpakutō. The mythological implications were too dangerous. But as he watched the battle unfold, he saw no connection between Cole's tree and that particular legend.
Russell had never forgotten the release incantation he had compiled for Yoriichi in his story. And since creating the card, he had never seen him unleash his Zanpakutō. The weapon had remained sealed, a sleeping dragon waiting for the right moment to wake.
The arena seemed to sense what was coming. The very air grew thick with anticipation, and even the audience fell silent as if sensing the approach of something momentous.
WHOOSH!
A tremendous spiritual pressure began to radiate from Yoriichi, washing over the arena like a tsunami of pure power. The weaker members of the audience actually swayed in their seats, and even Russell felt the weight of it pressing against his consciousness.
Yoriichi raised his blade with ceremonial precision, the Zanpakutō gleaming like captured starlight. His voice, when it came, was clear and resonant, carrying the weight of absolute authority.
"Destroy all evil spirits and burn everything to ash!"
The incantation rang out like a divine proclamation, and the temperature in the arena began to rise. The blade in Yoriichi's hands started to glow, first a soft amber, then building to a brilliant white-hot radiance that made the audience shield their eyes.
"HIRIN!"
The release word exploded from Yoriichi's lips like a war cry, and the world changed.
Fire erupted from the blade—not ordinary fire, but something pure and primordial, flames that seemed to burn the very concept of darkness. The Zanpakutō transformed in his hands, becoming a weapon of legend wreathed in an aura of absolute destruction.
For the first time in this world's history, a Zanpakutō had achieved its Shikai release. And the arena would never be the same.
(End of this chapter)
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