"Modified Kidō."
Lisa Yadōmaru murmured softly, picking up the latter half of the sentence spoken on the field.
She and Shinji Hirako were positioned some distance from the arena itself, but with their abilities, hearing the exchange clearly was effortless.
After hearing Ling Qing's explanation—
"So even you misjudged him," Lisa said, turning her head toward Shinji.
When it came to talent and mastery in Kidō, Shinji Hirako surpassed even her, an Eighth Division vice-captain.
As for other areas…
They had never crossed blades, and Shinji rarely revealed his Zanpakutō abilities, so Lisa could not judge clearly.
Her own mistake was understandable.
But Shinji had not refuted her earlier assessment of Anti-Kidō.
"What are you talking about?" Shinji clicked his tongue.
"I wasn't wrong. What that kid used really is the embryonic form of Anti-Kidō—he just doesn't realize it himself."
He lowered his head, his bangs easily hiding the sharpness in his eyes as memories of his own Kidō training surfaced.
At that age, he definitely could not have used Thrust with that kind of power.
"Still…"
"Judging from his training direction, he intends to use only Thrust to deflect or neutralize enemy Hadō."
"That's ambitious."
True Anti-Kidō required matching type and output. Trying to counter spells using nothing but Hadō Number One—regardless of real combat viability—already demonstrated the mindset required to become truly strong.
"What?" Lisa asked, noticing Shinji's renewed interest.
"Didn't you already give up on recruiting him?"
"…I never said that," Shinji replied immediately.
"I know you too well," Lisa snorted.
"But you're not interested in recruiting either, are you?"
Shinji switched to calling her by name instead of the perfunctory "Vice-Captain Yadōmaru."
"I already said this is Captain Kyōraku's assignment," Lisa shot back.
"If you're interested, go talk to him yourself—after you become a captain."
She shot Shinji an annoyed look.
"Captain, huh…" Shinji muttered.
When it came to promoting talent, he and Lisa were actually the same.
If the Fifth Division were not so short on capable officers, he would never bother with this kind of work.
"So troublesome…"
"Modified Kidō…?"
Mikazuki Munenori's voice dropped several degrees.
Taking Hadō as an example, the so-called ninety-nine numbered spells did not mean Soul Society only possessed ninety-nine Kidō.
In fact, it was unclear whether there were even exactly ninety-nine.
Neither Shin'ō Academy textbooks nor the secret archives of noble families recorded all of them.
In reality, aside from Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto, perhaps only the Grand Kidō Chief possessed complete knowledge of all known spells.
And within the last century alone, many Kidō had been formally added to the numbered system.
They all shared one trait:
Regardless of difficulty, they could potentially be mastered by Soul Reapers of various ranks.
As for spells usable only by their creators—those demanding extreme lineage or talent—they were classified separately as self-created Kidō.
Modifying Kidō could not be compared to inventing new spells, but every genius who created Kidō began with modification.
The sheer gap nearly extinguished Mikazuki's fighting spirit.
However—
Just as he was about to give up, he noticed Ling Qing subtly move his right hand behind his back.
Then Ling Qing's gaze drifted toward Mikazuki's scorched, aching palm.
"Tch."
Mikazuki sneered.
"Bluffing."
That single movement told him everything. Ling Qing's defense had not been as effortless as it appeared.
"Ling Qing!"
Mikazuki's voice rang out.
"Do you know what I hate most about you?"
"…I'm listening," Ling Qing replied, caught slightly off guard.
"You—"
His voice soared like a trained tenor.
"Do you have to show off to survive?!"
Showing off—especially in front of women.
Ever since childhood, Mikazuki had been the center of attention. After entering Shin'ō Academy, Ling Qing had stolen it all piece by piece.
He had already lowered himself to study alongside commoners from Rukongai—yet still received neither status nor respect.
That resentment had festered deeply.
"…You don't understand," Ling Qing said calmly.
In the world of Hollows, Soul Reapers, and Quincy, battles were ultimately contests of presence.
Whoever cracked first lost.
Sometimes, even using one's ultimate move first was already defeat—unless you knew you had more transformations than your opponent.
"—!"
Veins bulged on Mikazuki's forehead.
He suppressed the urge to explode. He was used to verbal provocation.
"Fine!"
The word was forced through clenched teeth.
"Someone who can modify Kidō…"
His charred hand reached for the asauchi at his waist.
Clack.
The guard struck the scabbard, metal ringing sharply.
"You're finally worthy of facing Mikazuki Munenori in a True Blade Trial."
"…Huh?"
Ling Qing genuinely paused.
He clearly held the advantage—how did Mikazuki still dare say worthy?
Then—
"When this is over," Mikazuki twisted his grip, blood mixed with charred residue seeping out.
"You can regret that arrogance—keeping your sword hand behind your back!"
Shing.
Steel sang as air split.
With a simple forward step, Mikazuki vanished from Ling Qing's sight.
"—?!"
Spiritual pressure surged across the arena in less than half a second.
"Shunpo?"
Shunpo—the high-speed movement technique standard among captains and vice-captains.
Even high-ranking seated officers often failed to master it.
At the arena's edge, Mitarashi, Fifth Division Sixth Seat, had not even grasped its basics.
"No."
Ling Qing's mind raced as he sensed the pressure without visual confirmation.
"If it were true Shunpo, I wouldn't feel the spiritual pressure at all."
"Reinforcing leg strength with spiritual pressure… amplifying speed and impact."
"Crude, but impressive for a student."
Time was fleeting.
Ling Qing analyzed calmly, deciding how to respond.
"At best—"
Slash.
Mikazuki's form reappeared, Zanpakutō descending in a diagonal cut from upper right to lower left.
A clean hit would leave a grievous wound.
But—
That was only Mikazuki's ideal outcome.
"—one-third of a Shunpo."
Tap.
Ling Qing's fingers brushed the hilt.
His right hand had been hidden not from arrogance, but to conceal his movement.
Swordsmanship was not his strength, and he had never intended to duel Mikazuki with steel.
He did not draw his blade.
A soft sound—then deflection.
Ling Qing habitually pressed his left palm against the hilt. Shin'ō Academy uniforms lacked pockets, and relying on a belt to secure an asauchi was unreliable.
Soul Reapers did not possess heroic physiques that conveniently balanced weight.
Students rarely carried asauchi for that reason alone.
Only knowing that Zanpakutō awakening required constant proximity kept Ling Qing doing so.
Freed from the asauchi's restraint—
Ling Qing's hand snapped into motion.
Thumb, ring finger, and little finger curled inward.
Index and middle fingers—rigid and sharp—lunged like a viper toward Mikazuki's wrist from less than thirty centimeters away.
"Hadō Number One—"
"?!"
The chant reached Mikazuki's ears in full.
Before his blade could land, Ling Qing's fingers struck first.
"—Thrust!"
Mikazuki's charge left no room to adjust.
Boom!
Impact numbed his hand. The follow-up shockwave blasted the sword from his grip.
The blade spun away like a broken windmill, embedding itself deep into the arena floor.
Mikazuki's body followed, spinning violently through the air.
Before he hit the ground—
"Hadō Number One—"
Ling Qing's hidden hand pointed silently once more.
This time, Thrust carried an additional technique:
"Bakudō Number Eight—Repel."
Originally a defensive shield, Ling Qing used Repel's rebound property to amplify Thrust's physical force.
Executing Hadō and Bakudō simultaneously normally required double incantation.
But Ling Qing had mastered low-numbered spells so thoroughly that nearly all could be modified and fused into Thrust.
"Thrust!"
The third blast struck.
At nearly half Mach speed, the compressed spiritual pressure slammed into Mikazuki's falling body.
Bang!
Like a shell leaving a cannon.
Mikazuki was hurled backward over ten meters—
Landing exactly where he had begun his charge.
Thud.
Knees hit the ground.
He tried to stand, but the tearing pain in his chest and full-body agony forced him down.
"…It's over."
Ling Qing lowered his fingers.
No judgment was needed. Mikazuki would be bedridden for days, even with healing.
Students were not captains—and they certainly did not have Retsu Unohana to treat them.
"But…"
Mikazuki still could not believe he had lost.
The fight felt long—but had lasted barely ten seconds.
Two exchanges.
That was all.
"Damn it!"
Blood streamed from his nose as he roared like a wounded beast.
The strike had crushed his chest. Any agitation would only worsen the damage.
"How can I—"
Pain was ignored through rage.
"Lose like this?!"
His right hand was useless.
But his left—
Before the stunned crowd, Mikazuki tore a short blue dagger from behind his calf, skin and fabric splitting.
Lightning flickered along the curved blade.
"Lightning Dash—"
Before the fourth syllable—
Whoosh.
Ling Qing vanished.
"—?!"
He reappeared behind Mikazuki's collapsing awareness.
"Hadō Number Four—"
White lightning sang like a thousand birds.
"White—"
"Enough!!"
Boom!!
A black scabbard shattered the arena floor.
Mutsuki Shōkaku stood between the unfinished White Lightning and Mikazuki's back.
Thump.
She glanced at the fallen Mikazuki, then held Ling Qing in a long, complex gaze.
"True Blade Trial concluded!"
She fulfilled her duty as referee.
"The victor—"
"Ling Qing!"
The stands erupted in thunderous cheers unseen in Shin'ō Academy for nearly a century.
Cries, screams, confessions—some even from the wrong gender.
Even Ling Qing felt his blood stir.
Yes.
This was the allure of the True Blade Trial.
He inhaled deeply, regaining control.
"Teacher Mutsuki."
"…We'll settle this later," she said sharply, glaring at him.
Ling Qing said nothing more.
By the time he returned to class, a new academic year would begin.
Turning back, he looked at the abandoned Mikazuki.
"Mikazuki."
"—?!"
The voice snapped him out of despair.
"…What?" Mikazuki laughed bitterly.
"Here comes the victor's mockery?"
"No."
Ling Qing glanced at the frightened Izumi Suzu in the stands.
"I just wanted to tell you something."
He met Mikazuki's eyes.
"Using a family Zanpakutō isn't shameful. Wealth and heritage are part of strength."
"But—"
Ling Qing's tone turned playful.
"Before showing it off to your girlfriend, make sure she can keep secrets."
"Otherwise…"
His smile faded.
"A Zanpakutō that absorbs and releases lightning—how do you think I learned that?"
With that, Ling Qing turned and walked away.
That warning—
Was his lesson to Izumi Suzu.