In the 80th District of the North Rukongai, Zaraki, a terrifying battle was underway.
Unfortunately, apart from the two combatants, there were no witnesses.
Perhaps it was for the best that there were no spectators. Anyone caught in the middle of such a fight would have little chance of survival.
The urgent clang of swords clashing was incessant. Sharp, chaotic energies collided and exploded continuously. The ground, as fragile as a thin cracker, was shattered into pieces, then pulverized into dust and smoke that billowed high into the air.
Within the swirling dust, the blurred figures of the two fighters could be seen.
"Hahahahahaha—!!!"
The beast-like man laughed maniacally, swinging his blade with wild abandon, a fresh laugh with every strike. He parried or deflected every silver flash of light that came at him. But if he missed even one, it would mercilessly leave another gash on his body, sending blood spraying from the new wound.
Far from being troubled or fearful, the man felt his blood begin to boil.
His body, his power… Of the countless opponents who had come to challenge him, most couldn't even break his skin, even when he stood still and let them strike him.
How long had it been since he'd felt this? This feeling that a moment of carelessness could leave a wound, that a single misstep could mean death.
And his opponent, wielding a blade that drew black trails in the air, tore through the smoke as if ripping space itself apart, appearing before him with the speed of lightning.
The man laughed, choosing not to dodge, but to meet the incoming blade head-on.
CLANG!
The two swords collided. But it wasn't just a single sound. In that same instant, a flurry of silver flashes bloomed between them, countless dense strikes overlapping in a chaotic cluster. It looked like a single swing, but in reality, it was a special technique that unleashed an unknown number of attacks at once. This was a characteristic the man had clearly identified in his opponent during their fight.
Under this dense barrage, even the man had to temporarily retreat. He fell back again and again, finally getting knocked away by one of his opponent's powerful slashes.
But the silver-haired opponent, who seemed to have the overwhelming advantage, was not in a much better state. His clothes, which were far neater and more expensive than the man's, were already stained with blood—not just from his opponent, but from his own wounds as well.
Yet no matter how many injuries he sustained, even when his silver hair was stained crimson, he never let out a wild laugh like the man did. The only constant was the faint, unwavering smile on his lips.
Maintaining his calm and composure no matter the situation seemed to be his fighting style.
The man who had been knocked back had barely steadied himself when he prepared to attack again. But as he looked up, he saw a succession of dark purple slashes already piercing through the dust, swarming toward him. He had no choice but to swing his own sword, either cutting through the incoming blades of light or deflecting them to the side.
Suddenly, in that instant, he felt a wave of mortal danger. His body reacted before his mind could process it. Abandoning the swing he was halfway through, he allowed the attack to cut into his body.
Even before the blood from the new wound had a chance to fall, the man had already moved from his spot. A terrifying sword strike appeared like a phantom, slicing deep into the ground as if it were tofu, leaving a massive trench. The ground had been silently severed. If the man hadn't reacted in time, he would have been cut in two.
However, it wasn't over.
As if traversing a void, his opponent appeared before him, a phantom-like afterimage trailing behind.
Their blades crossed once more.
Ling Qing didn't laugh out loud during the fight like this nameless man, but there was no doubt he was enjoying it just as much. The feeling of satisfaction was like stepping into an air-conditioned room on a scorching summer day, shivering involuntarily from the sudden cold.
A battle between equals—this was exactly what Ling Qing had been craving.
This man perfectly met all his requirements. Ling Qing could clearly feel that with every clash of their swords, the barrier around his power, which he thought had reached its absolute limit, was beginning to loosen. Then, as if a dam had broken, his power grew explosively.
He realized that although he had honed his fundamental skills to perfection through constant practice and slaying Hollows, none of his previous encounters could truly be called battles. They were just him swinging his sword and killing his target.
How could a fight that was over in a single move—or not even one move—be called a battle?
But now, it was different. In the process of fighting this man to the death, Ling Qing, who had initially been focused on techniques and combinations, gradually let go of such trivial thoughts. All he needed to do was to deliver the right strike at the right moment.
This man was like a whetstone, a forge. In fighting him, Ling Qing was refining and integrating all his accumulated experience. The reason was simple: their power levels were nearly identical. If Ling Qing couldn't adapt and grow rapidly in this fight, he would end up just like the corpses he had seen on his way here, slain by this very man.
It was safe to say that all of Ling Qing's previous combat experience had been mere child's play. Only this fight with this man was a true battle.
And then, Ling Qing began to feel a new fear: what if this perfect opponent, whom he had finally found, couldn't keep up with him? His own power was growing too quickly. If he surpassed the man in an instant and killed him, where would he ever find another opponent so perfect?
However, the reality before him once again gave Ling Qing a pleasant surprise.
No matter how explosively Ling Qing's power grew, no matter how much his combat prowess increased with accumulated experience, after being briefly suppressed, the man would always manage to catch up. He was like a beast that latches onto its prey and never lets go. No matter how high Ling Qing raised his power, the man would bite down and pursue him relentlessly, dragging him back into the vortex of battle and slaughter.
And so, Ling Qing completely let go of his worries, focusing his mind on nothing but the fight.
They didn't know how long their battle lasted.
They didn't know how many times they had clashed.
The only thing they knew was that in each other's eyes, there was only their opponent. Beyond the fight, the fight, and the fight, there was nothing else left but the fight.