A jagged, broken Zanpakutō—so worn it looked like trash no one would even pick up off the roadside—was in truth the beloved blade with which Zaraki Kenpachi had slain countless enemies. Its name remained unknown, but its brutality was undeniable.
Qingshan tightened his grip on his own Zanpakutō and nodded seriously.
"No problem. I came here for the title of Kenpachi. Since you're willing to accept my challenge, don't blame me for going all out!"
"Come forth—Kongō!"
"Oh? A Shikai? Looks like a summoning-type Zanpakutō. So you plan to rely on the creature it summons to defeat me and steal the name of Kenpachi, huh?" Zaraki sneered.
"Don't get it twisted," Qingshan shot back. "Just because my Zanpakutō summons doesn't mean I plan to let Kongō do the work. The one who's going to make you fall—will be me!"
"Rooaaar!!"
Kongō beat his chest as he was forcibly summoned into the world of Soul Society. The moment his eyes opened, he spotted Zaraki Kenpachi before him. The massive beast—larger and more imposing than a bear, yet shaped like a man—swung down a great axe.
"Die!!"
"Die!!"
The first shout belonged to Zaraki, whose towering form radiated overwhelming presence.
With one hand, he raised his chipped blade high and cleaved downward with more force than most men could muster, even with both hands.
The second shout was Qingshan's, as he gripped his sword in both hands and slashed toward Zaraki's unguarded back, blade glinting coldly with killing intent.
The strike landed first. Qingshan's sword cut down toward Zaraki's back—yet it met resistance like steel. The sound wasn't a clean slice, but a heavy, muffled thud.
"Spiritual pressure!" Qingshan realized, gritting.
His blade had indeed landed, but Zaraki's body showed not a single cut—not even a scratch. The sheer density of Zaraki's reiatsu had formed a natural armor around him, rendering Qingshan's attack meaningless.
Boom!!
An instant later, Kongō's massive axe crashed down against Zaraki's battered blade. The impact exploded with a thunderous shockwave, the ground beneath their feet cracking apart in jagged fissures.
Zaraki laughed wildly.
"Kid, striking from behind is something contemptible—but the guts to swing your sword at me? That's something I can respect."
"Rooaaar!!"
Kongō roared, pounding his chest again as he forced Zaraki's sword aside. The beast unleashed a wave of sound that rattled the bells in Zaraki's hair, sending them jingling wildly.
Qingshan stepped back and steadied his stance, his expression grim.
"His reiatsu forms a shield that makes my strikes useless… As expected of the one who holds the name of Kenpachi. But if you think spiritual pressure alone can beat me, you're wrong. I came here for the Kenpachi title, and I'll break through that defense of yours!"
Zaraki grinned, holding his sword with one hand, his crude and savage style suppressing Kongō's furious blows.
"Swinging your sword isn't about how loud you scream—it's about whether you can cut your enemy. You've got guts, brat. That alone's enough for me to remember your name. Join my squad!"
Captain-class power was monstrous—Zaraki Kenpachi, bearing the name of Kenpachi, was a monster among monsters.
Kongō, however, wasn't so easily cowed. In the shinobi world, when Qingshan had summoned him, the beast could toy with Akatsuki elites or even Konoha's jōnin without worry. Only someone like that tailless Saiyan who raged endlessly had been an exception.
But Soul Society was different. Even lowly Hollows here could overwhelm Kongō, and against a captain who slaughtered Hollows like breathing? His fury boiled over as Zaraki effortlessly parried blow after blow.
Kongō's massive axe blurred into afterimages as it hacked wildly, only to be brushed aside each time by Zaraki's ragged blade. Sparks and thunderous impacts erupted with every clash—yet Zaraki's chipped sword always prevailed.
Meanwhile, Qingshan focused his breath, recalling what he had learned in the Hunter world. Whether it was nen or chakra, all such powers stemmed from life energy. And though reiatsu was different in form, in essence, it was the same.
That meant—nen techniques could be adapted into reiatsu techniques.
He first channeled reiatsu into his eyes, sharpening his perception. Suddenly, the once-invisible currents of Zaraki's spiritual pressure became clear, flowing vividly with every swing of his sword.
Next, he gathered reiatsu along his blade—using the principle of Ken (Fortify). This reinforced his Zanpakutō's edge, heightening its cutting power. It was similar to the Armament Haki from the pirate world, an advanced combat technique.
Madaramme Ikkaku's eyes widened.
"What's that rookie doing? I can feel it… If his blade lands on me like that, I'd be seriously injured—even I can tell! Impossible…"
Ayasegawa Yumichika nodded reluctantly.
"It's real. I feel it too. As much as it pains me to admit, that newcomer has talent. He's grasped some formidable technique."
Yawning and half-asleep, Yachiru Kusajishi rubbed her eyes and mumbled, "That's the guy with the monkey."
Monkey?
Kongō, hearing the word, flinched instinctively. Distracted for a split second, he failed to guard—and nearly took a devastating strike from Zaraki.
At the same time, Qingshan's reinforced blade slashed forward. He could feel it clearly now—his Zanpakutō was sharper, capable of slicing through Zaraki's reiatsu defense.
Confidence surged within him. This was it.
His blade was ready to cut.