(T/N: Hello!! This is the first Chapter of the day! If you like the novel, don’t forget dropping Power Stones!! That will be greatly appreciated!!)
Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto stood tall and imposing. He didn’t assu any stance, yet simply by standing there, he exuded a presence impossible to ignore.
The wrinkles on his face didn’t make him seem old at all — instead, they resembled scars carved by wars fought across mountains of corpses and seas of blood. From deep within his eyes, the will to fight surged outward, like molten lava churning restlessly beneath the surface.
This overwhelming pressure didn’t co from his Reiatsu but from the embodint of a life steeped in endless slaughter.
Katori Nanatsuki didn’t bother with formalities. He stripped off his upper garnt, and instantly, torrents of chaotic Reiatsu erupted from his back.
Standing just behind him, Kyōraku Shunsui felt the surge clearly. The wild currents of Reiatsu were so intense that they almost tore the straw hat off his head, forcing him to press it down hurriedly.
"Combining Hakuda with Kidō techniques, huh? Katori-kun, your Hakuda’s improved a lot!" Kyōraku comnted.
Chōjirō Sasakibe also nodded, though his focus was elsewhere.
"Katori Nanatsuki’s Reiatsu... it’s already reached the level of a captain."
Monts later, arcs of crackling lightning began dancing across Nanatsuki’s body, and the flow of Reiatsu beca even more violent.
Clang!
The sound of wooden swords colliding thundered through the air, and Kyōraku’s pupils contracted sharply.
His eyes had failed to track Katori Nanatsuki’s speed — all he saw was an afterimage.
It wasn’t until Yamamoto’s wooden blade intercepted Nanatsuki’s strike that Kyōraku realized the battle had already begun.
"Yare yare... scary stuff," Kyōraku muttered under his breath. "My eyes can’t even keep up with Katori-kun anymore. Looks like I’ll have to rely on sensing his Reiatsu instead!"
Chōjirō agreed. "Among all the captains, Katori Nanatsuki’s speed would rank among the top."
Only Yamamoto himself — a master of Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Shunpo, and Kidō alike — stood apart as a true all-rounder. Most other captains had particular specialties rather than excelling in everything.
Generally, captain-level Shinigami resembled sturdy barrels: supported by imnse Reiatsu, they had no glaring weaknesses. Even the "shortest stave" in their abilities surpassed the strength of any non-captain-class Shinigami.
After reaching the captain’s realm, Reiatsu itself beca the ultimate multiplier — elevating all aspects of one’s combat ability to new heights. But among captains, the differences in mastery over Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Kidō, and Shunpo determined who truly dominated.
Under the boost of Shunkō: Raikiri Form, Nanatsuki’s Shunpo had reached an apex level, far surpassing captains who weren’t particularly specialized in speed.
Thud, thud, thud! Nanatsuki’s form blurred into motion, leaving behind over a dozen afterimages in the training hall.
But Yamamoto’s blade was equally fast — it was as though he could foresee Nanatsuki’s every move. Before Nanatsuki’s body could even arrive, Yamamoto’s strikes were already there, forcing him to et each clash head-on.
After blocking one strike, Yamamoto’s leg shot up without warning, aiming straight for Nanatsuki’s waist.
Nanatsuki lifted his leg as well, intercepting with his shin.
Bang!
Pain jolted through Nanatsuki’s leg, and his balance faltered.
He instinctively rolled backward, planted his left hand against the floor, flipped in midair, and landed firmly on his feet once again.
"Good!" Yamamoto praised, nodding approvingly. "Seems you haven’t neglected your Hakuda training."
After all, Yamamoto had personally guided Nanatsuki in Hakuda techniques before. Had this been the old Nanatsuki, that kick would have sent him flying. The fact that he’d recovered so quickly showed remarkable improvent.
Nanatsuki didn’t respond. Instead, he steadied himself, pinched his blade between two fingers, and twisted his waist sharply.
His entire body moved as one — fingers, arms, shoulders, and blade beca a single cohesive engine of force.
"Senmai-Oroshi: Flowlight!"
Yamamoto’s eyes glimred faintly. He had seen this technique used by one of Nanatsuki’s disciples before, but in Nanatsuki’s hands, the attack’s ferocity was on an entirely different level.
Hundreds of azure strikes converged in an unbroken torrent, forming a seamless arc of light.
Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang!!!
Even as Yamamoto’s blade intercepted the strikes, he felt his sword vibrate violently — each wave of attacks concentrated on a single point, battering it over a hundred tis in the blink of an eye.
A faint crimson light seed to seep through the creases around Yamamoto’s eyes, as if molten energy was spilling out.
Suddenly, Yamamoto unleashed a crushing burst of Reiatsu that flooded the entire training hall, forcing both Kyōraku and Chōjirō to tense instinctively.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the supporting pillars under the weight of the spiritual pressure. Dust and tiles rained from the ceiling.
"Hey! Isn’t this a bit much?!" Kyōraku called out, dodging falling debris.
Within monts, the main beams splintered completely, and the entire hall groaned under the strain.
Nanatsuki grimaced. He knew the old man wasn’t going to give him an inch. Yamamoto had realized his wooden blade couldn’t withstand the force anymore — so he was compensating with even more Reiatsu.
Casting a glance at Kyōraku — who was clearly enjoying the spectacle far too much — Nanatsuki felt a flash of irritation.
This guy was definitely here just to watch him get pumled.
Nanatsuki called out loudly:
"Captain-Commander Yamamoto!"
The old man raised an eyebrow, curious.
Before Yamamoto could ask, Nanatsuki continued, voice steady but loud enough for Kyōraku to hear:
"On the way here, Captain Kyōraku told that you were getting on in years, and warned to hold back a little when fighting you!"
"This overwhelming Reiatsu proves your might hasn’t diminished at all, Captain-Commander! Even if I go all out, I can’t shake you one bit!"
Yamamoto’s face flushed a furious red.
"Oi—wait, I never—"
Before Kyōraku could finish, Yamamoto’s fist smashed into his face.
"Unfilial brat!!"
BOOM!
Kyōraku crashed through the roof and disappeared into the distance.
The final blow caused the already damaged training hall to collapse entirely in a thunderous roar.
A short while later, Yamamoto, Nanatsuki, and Chōjirō stood amidst the ruins.
Yamamoto had already cald, his Reiatsu drawn inward. With his hands folded behind his back, he said slowly:
"That’s enough for today. Your strength has indeed reached the level of a captain... but, from what I’ve heard from Shunsui, you’re still unwilling to accept the position?"
Nanatsuki nodded. "I’m honored by your trust, Captain-Commander. Becoming captain of the Thirteenth Division would be the highest privilege."
"However, I’m still teaching my students and disciples, and the Katori-ryu Dojo doesn’t yet have a resident instructor to oversee them. I believe in finishing what I start — I can’t abandon them for the sake of the captain’s seat."
"...I see," Yamamoto murmured, a rare note of approval in his voice. "Very well. Since you’ve taken them as disciples, you should teach them well. They’re indeed promising talents — the future of Soul Society will rely on them."
He nodded firmly. "If you’re unwilling for now, I won’t force the matter."
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