"It's you?!"
Shihōin Kureji finally remembered the report he'd seen that night.
"Naraku Sora!"
"Damn, damn, damn!"
"Do you have any idea what you're doing?!"
His hysterical roar tore through the silence of the ruins, echoing across the night sky. Even the air seemed to shudder.
"As a member of the Central Prison, you've trespassed into a noble estate without summons and attacked members of one of the Five Great Houses. You knowingly broke the law—your crimes are unforgivable!"
At his shout, more retainers appeared around the shattered study, shielding the old man and forming a line between Naraku and their master.
These were Shinigami Shihōin Kureji had raised in secret. They looked like Shihōin house retainers—but in truth, they only answered to him.
Without hesitation, the burly man in the front released his Zanpakutō the moment he saw Naraku's demonic silhouette.
"Solidify—Kintetsumaru!"
Reiatsu burst out of him like a flood breaking a dam, covering the battlefield in an instant.
The blade in his hand melted like candle wax, running up his arm and spreading over his body until it covered him completely.
His skin turned silver-white, shining like metal. Sharp spikes and ridges grew across his armor, especially around the joints his body needed most.
In a heartbeat, a thick, heavy suit of armor had formed.
Already huge to begin with, he now stood like a giant amid the ruins, radiating pressure.
The moment his release completed, he charged Naraku.
As one of Kureji's personal guards, he'd already failed once by letting his master nearly die. If he didn't take down the attacker now, he'd be expelled from the Shihōin family for sure.
He'd fought for years to earn that noble status—he wasn't going to lose it now.
Anyone who defied the will of the nobles deserved to die.
A savage gleam flashed in his eyes. He tore across the broken ground like a full-throttle tank, the earth trembling beneath his steps, rubble leaping into the air.
His massive silver-white arm swung down, aiming straight for Naraku's head.
Boom!
The instant arm and blade collided, raw force exploded outward, the clang of metal ringing through the sky, adding a fresh layer of chaos to the night's spectacle.
"Die!"
With a low growl, the armored Shinigami unleashed everything he had, a strike strong enough to crush any defense.
Then he realized—
The boy below was still standing where he'd been, sword held in one hand, lips quirking upward as if nothing had happened.
Competing in raw strength?
Who told you size equaled power?
That old man in another division—barely up to your waist—could still one-shot captain-level opponents with a single punch.
Under the crescent moon, shadows churned.
Dark silhouettes on the ground suddenly deepened, gathering and solidifying until they took form—a four-armed monster, vaguely humanoid and roughly man-sized, rising from the earth.
It hugged the ground as it shot toward the two locked in a test of strength.
A Shihōin elder, after all, wouldn't raise just one guard.
If not for the Noble Council's oversight, Kureji would've happily groomed his own captain-level Shinigami instead of relying on pack tactics and ambushes.
Tch—
Flames of Kidō flared along Naraku's blade, azure fire roaring up as he swung, the combined force of sword and spell blasting the armored man away.
Naraku twisted his wrist, and without losing momentum, brought the sword down behind him. Reiatsu surged violently at the same time.
For a moment, the entire estate seemed to shudder.
Lightning speared down from the sky. Thunder roared so loud it stole the hearing from everyone nearby, leaving only a dizzying, terrifying silence.
Hadō #11: Tsuzuri Raiden.
A pillar of golden lightning slammed into the shadow creature. It roared again, the blazing storm shredding everything it touched.
Kidō and swordsmanship fused to perfection—and with Shikai's boost, the already devastating move had become many times stronger.
In a duel with someone like Unohana, it wouldn't amount to much.
But against an opponent weaker than even Ishikawa Sāsuke, it was enough for a clean, brutal stomp.
When the thunder and shaking finally ended, the shadow-born monster was in pieces.
Its extra arms were gone, and there was an enormous hole in its chest, nearly splitting it in half.
One strike had destroyed the trump card Shihōin Kureji had pinned his hopes on.
The ambush he'd thought was foolproof had failed completely. The shadow hadn't even made it to its target before being torn apart.
Through the gaping hole in its chest, blackened flesh still pulsed faintly.
It was clearly a Shinigami too.
That twisted, monstrous shape had been the manifestation of his released Zanpakutō.
With injuries like that, forget fighting—just staying alive would be a miracle.
"Run, Kureji-sama! Run!"
The armored Shinigami, having Shunpo'd back, turned pale. He didn't even spare the dying man a glance as he grabbed Kureji and bolted.
The nobles might not understand what they were dealing with, but a veteran who'd risked his life for them time and again knew perfectly well.
When someone cleaved your colleague apart in one blow, there was no point continuing the fight.
They weren't on the same tier.
On paper, Naraku was only Grade 6 Reiatsu—far weaker than him, not even the weakest vice-captain.
But that world-ending destructive power had crushed his illusions.
This was not the kind of strength a seated officer was supposed to have.
He blasted off the ground like a shell, disappearing into the night without a second thought. He didn't stop until he reached the edge of the Noble District, where he finally set Kureji down.
"Kureji-sama, go on ahead. I'll hold him off."
Kureji froze, suddenly recognizing the man's loyalty. He opened his mouth to say something—
Then his survival instinct screamed, and he turned and sprinted in another direction without a word.
Once his master's back vanished from view, the armored man didn't hesitate. He turned and ran the opposite way.
Fight that monster? Was he insane?
All he'd ever wanted was a bit of power and status. He wasn't about to bet his life for it.
Even now, his arm still ached from those two clashes.
Even in Shikai, with his defense heavily boosted, he'd nearly died. That wasn't an enemy he could handle.
And all that for what? Whatever stipend Kureji paid him each month?
Let the nobles risk themselves.
For all his brutish appearance, his heart was perfectly clear.
But as he cut through alley after alley and finally slipped into a deserted side street, his feet froze in place.
A boy about Naraku's age stood there quietly.
As if he'd been waiting for him.
In that instant, an icy chill tore up his spine and burst into his skull. His scalp prickled.
~~~
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