As a dazzling golden sword light shot straight into the sky, Ito Makoto and Madarame Ikkaku were blasted backward by the terrifying sword pressure, their bodies tumbling across the Training Grounds like fallen leaves caught in a storm.
"So this is Kenpachi using two hands on his sword…?"
"Cough—cough!"
Ito Makoto lay sprawled on the ground, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. Beside him, Ikkaku was in even worse condition. His Bankai had been forcibly dispelled, Dragon Crest Hozukimaru reverting as if crushed by overwhelming force, and the wounds from his earlier clash with Kenpachi had completely burst open. Blood soaked through him until he looked like a man sculpted entirely from crimson.
Fortunately, Ito Makoto had erected a double-layered barrier beforehand. Otherwise, the monstrous spiritual pressure released at the moment of that two-handed swing would have shaken the entire Seireitei and drawn attention from every direction.
Yet after rising to his feet, Kenpachi scratched his head and said with visible disappointment:
"I actually used both hands. Guess I lost."
With that, the fire in his eyes faded. He lost interest immediately, sheathing his killing intent as casually as one might put away a toy, then slumped down nearby, looking utterly bored.
Meanwhile, Ito Makoto had no such luxury.
He first hurried to Ikkaku's side, weaving Kidō to staunch the bleeding and stabilize his reiatsu flow. Before he could even begin proper bandaging, he had to rush over to Kenpachi and suppress the internal damage caused by the backlash of Tremor and the violent exchange.
Several minutes later, the outer barrier dissolved. Under the astonished gazes of Ayasegawa Yumichika and Kusajishi Yachiru, Ito Makoto was seen busily treating both men, moving back and forth without pause.
"I use Kidō more often than the Fourth Division at this point…"
He truly had not expected this outcome. Since joining the Eleventh Division, his greatest improvement had not been in Zanjutsu but in Kidō.
Over the past few years, ever since he entered as Fourth Seat, aside from occasionally accepting challenges from other members, most of his battles had been with Ikkaku and Kenpachi. Both men fought with reckless abandon, trading blows without fear of death. Every spar ended in blood.
And every time, Ito was the one patching them up.
Under such relentless necessity, his Kidō had advanced by leaps and bounds. In terms of healing and stabilization techniques, he was already comparable to seasoned members of the Fourth Division.
Sometimes, when Eleventh Division members returned injured from missions, they did not even bother going to Squad Four. Instead, they came directly to him the Fourth Seat of a combat division for treatment.
"Or… should I look for a chance to transfer to the Fourth Division? At least the First Kenpachi once came from there. I could properly refine my Zanjutsu…"
He paused, then couldn't help but sigh.
"Practicing Kidō diligently in a combat division, and studying Zanjutsu in a healing division… what a bizarre situation."
Just as he was lost in thought, Yumichika stepped forward to assist. With deft, practiced movements, he began wrapping bandages around Ikkaku's torso, his technique smooth and experienced.
"Ah… this…"
Noticing Ito's gaze, Yumichika gave a light chuckle.
"What's so surprising? Before you joined the squad, I handled their emergency treatment."
Ito Makoto: …
...
Eleventh Division Barracks
Early the next morning, a rapid knocking echoed through Ito Makoto's quarters.
He opened the door to find a young man completely cloaked in white robes. The moment their eyes met, the visitor lifted his chin arrogantly.
"Ito, Fourth Seat. I come on behalf of Central 46 to inform you that in half a month you are to participate in this year's Noble Hunting Tournament. Your primary responsibility will be ensuring the safety of the nobles."
"Understand this clearly I am here to inform you, not to discuss."
"This is one of the rare chances for a Shinigami of low birth to change his fate. You would do well to treasure it."
The disdain in his tone was undisguised from beginning to end.
Ito Makoto's expression cooled.
"And who the hell are you?"
The white-robed youth's face darkened.
"How dare you speak so disrespectfully! I am Yano Tenka, direct heir of the noble Yano Family! A mere commoner dares address me so"
Slap!
Before he could finish, Ito Makoto struck him clean across the face. Yano Tenka tumbled to the ground, blood gushing from his nose, several teeth clattering onto the floor.
Ito had held back. Given the man's pitiful spiritual pressure barely stronger than that of an ordinary squad member one serious strike would have crippled him.
"You dare hit me?!"
Slap!
"You"
Slap!
"You audacious"
Slap!
"You"
Slap!
"Lord Ito, please stop! I was wrong!"
Slap!
"Oh. Sorry. My hand moved too fast I couldn't stop it. Why didn't you apologize sooner?"
Ito smiled faintly.
Yano Tenka's right cheek was now grotesquely swollen, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes. The earlier arrogance had evaporated entirely.
At that moment, a familiar voice sounded from behind.
"Little friend Ito, my deepest apologies. This is due to my poor discipline. I must have made you laugh."
Ito looked up to see Yano Masahiko his chief examiner upon entering the Academy hurrying over with an ingratiating smile. As soon as he arrived, he kicked Yano Tenka fiercely while he lay on the ground.
"Uncle, I"
With half his face swollen, his speech came out garbled.
"Silence, you fool!"
Yano Masahiko glared viciously at him before turning back to Ito with a completely different expression warm and courteous.
"Ito Fourth Seat, here is the situation. In previous years, various divisions would designate certain members to participate in the Hunting Tournament to ensure the nobles' safety."
"However, this year is somewhat different. The Kasumioji Family has specifically requested, through Central 46, that you take part."
"The Kasumioji Family's standing in Soul Society is second only to the Four Great Noble Houses, so…"
He hesitated.
"Kasumioji Family?" Ito murmured inwardly. "Interesting. I haven't even gone to find them yet, and they're already seeking me out?"
Coming back to himself, he glanced at Yano Masahiko's expectant expression and replied calmly:
"Rest assured, Senior Yano. Since this is a directive from Central 46, as a Shinigami of Soul Society, I will naturally comply."
Relief flickered across Yano Masahiko's face. He quickly hauled Yano Tenka up like a dead dog and left in haste.
"Uncle, you must avenge me! That commoner dared to strike me!"
In a secluded corridor, Yano Tenka complained bitterly.
Yano Masahiko raised his left hand to slap him again, then paused at the sight of the grotesquely swollen right cheek. After a brief hesitation, he switched hands and struck the other side hard, finally venting some of his anger.
"You useless fool! Can you stop causing trouble for me everywhere?"
"I sent you to convey Central 46's order, and this is how you handled it? You offended a front-seat officer one with monstrous potential, certain to become a Captain in the future!"
"My intention was for you to build goodwill or at the very least avoid making enemies. Instead, you provoke him! Idiot!"
The more he spoke, the angrier he became, punctuating his words with two sharp kicks.
"You graduated thirty years before him, yet he is already Fourth Seat while you haven't even achieved Shikai. From today onward, you will return to the family estate and cultivate in seclusion. Until you master Shikai, you are not to step outside a single pace!"
Yano Masahiko looked at his nephew with undisguised disappointment. In his heart, he already knew this boy was unfit to inherit the Yano Family.
At the same time, regret stirred within him. Had he known Ito Makoto would grow into such a monster—rising to Fourth Seat upon joining—he would have done everything possible to bind him to the Yano Family's side.
"Alas, elder brother… ever since you passed, the Yano Family has declined to a lower-ranking noble house. Among the younger generation, there is no one capable of bearing great responsibility."
Looking once more at Yano Tenka's lifeless expression, his anger flared anew.
"Now get out!"
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