บท 115: Chapter 115 ⥤ My Wisdom Transcends Past and Present
White lightning surged and exploded, illuminating the battlefield like day. Electric serpents danced and intertwined, tracing brilliant patterns across Akira's body.
Despite this imposing display, Akira's burst of Reiatsu seemed insignificant. Even with his weakened new power, Ansai still possessed genuine 3rd Rank Reiatsu.
In contrast, Akira had upper-Seat Officer-level Reiatsu.
In raw power alone, Ansai could overwhelm him. His fierce face twisted with contemptuous mockery as he released his Reiatsu, ridiculing his opponent's apparent overconfidence.
But his mockery wouldn't last long.
Through Ansai's maniacal laughter, Akira stood his ground. His body tensed like a drawn bowstring, fingers clenching into a crushing grip that erupted with a thunderous boom.
⤫ Genshiki-ryū: Ikkotsu ⥤ Origin Style: Single Bone! ⤬
Without hesitation, he unleashed his mightiest strike.
Bang!!
As their fists collided, Ansai felt heat rush toward his face — as if he faced not this youth, but Genryūsai himself.
This was no illusion, but reality itself.
The purple flames frantically burned through his projected Reiatsu defense until it shattered completely.
Genryūsai calmly observed the battle.
Though uncertain of Akira's method, Ansai had reverted to his state before merging with the Soul King's power. He no longer posed the same threat.
Letting his disciple handle this wasn't a poor choice.
It would both test his recent training and build his reputation. Though he hadn't mastered his Shikai or learned his Zanpakutō's name, his strength rivaled some Captains.
Perhaps becoming a Captain would steady this young man.
As Genryūsai pondered this, Akira's excited roar echoed across the ruined barracks.
⤫ Genshiki-ryū: Chōshinsei Nenshō ⥤ Origin Style: Supernova Burning! ⤬
His punches reached such speed they ignited the air, transforming the world into a sea of flames.
Countless punch shadows erupted between the two, overlapping and intersecting.
Like an extreme symphony unfolding, the intense melody burst forth, transforming the battlefield into a grand performance hall.
Having lived for over a thousand years, Ansai had never fought such a frustrating battle.
Though his Reiatsu was stronger and his combat skills matched his opponent's, Ansai found himself completely overwhelmed, without any chance to counterattack.
⤫ Genshiki-ryū: Kaen Hōsha ⥤ Origin Style: Flame Discharge! ⤬
Fists poured down like torrential rain, completely submerging him. If not for his Reiatsu defense, Ansai would have been reduced to ruins like the surrounding buildings.
This battle was unlike his clash with Shiraki Shin'ichi or his fierce fight with Szayelaporro.
Akira knew the gap between himself and Ansai wasn't large, especially since his opponent had already been weakened by Genryūsai. The current Ansai was his perfect match, and this relentless suppression was the ideal strategy.
Any hesitation would invite Ansai's thunderous counterattack, and the tables would turn instantly.
His gaze fell, eyes burning with inner flames.
Akira's heart pounded wildly as battle intent surged through him like a searing brand, turning his blood to boiling magma that pulsed through his veins!
⤫ Jōshō Denkaen Henkō ⥤ Elevated Electric Flame Transformation! ⤬
White lightning coursed through him, electrifying every nerve. His spirit soared to new heights, his consciousness razor-sharp as all his training crystallized—from basic Hakuda to advanced techniques, Death Sword Style to Genryū Style.
Every movement flowed naturally, his body crafting the perfect offensive stance.
Like a deity!
Genryūsai watched intently from the ruins, his eyes fixed on Akira.
He had helped reshape his student, using overwhelming force to break down and rebuild his combat awareness.
But now Akira had evolved further — his refined combat awareness had fused completely with his instincts!
Down to his very core, through flesh and bone to the depths of his nerves, pure killing instinct had been etched into his being.
This was true instinct.
In simpler terms, he had become more dangerous.
His movements blurred with impossible speed, faster than Ansai's eyes could follow. His punches rained down like a storm.
Each strike carried the force of an 'Atsuryoku Sōsai'.
As his Reiatsu shield crumbled, Ansai felt his strength failing, his vision growing dim.
The young man before him seemed to merge with a figure from his past — though they were different people, in this moment they became one.
"Yamamoto...!" Ansai roared desperately, forcing out his remaining Reiatsu for one final counter.
Akira paused, raising an eyebrow.
Had the old man been hit so hard he was hallucinating? Why call out the old man's name when Akira was clearly his opponent?
Or was there some hidden history between Ansai and the bald eagle?
In that instant, his mind conjured up various forbidden images, nearly causing his brain to crash.
"You still have breath to call out someone else's name? Seems my old man's fists aren't powerful enough!" Akira shook his head vigorously, clearing away the distracting thoughts. He grinned fiercely at Ansai, "Let's end this match with my strongest move!"
As his words faded, Ansai's pupils contracted at the impossible sight before him.
Purple flames surged back like water, converging on Akira's right fist to form a gauntlet. His finger bones made spine-chilling cracks, as if being crushed by an overwhelming force.
But what truly commanded attention was his demon-like smile.
Genryūsai, who had been watching the battlefield intently, suddenly tensed. He narrowed his eyes, releasing his Reiatsu to sense his disciple's condition.
His eyes widened the next moment, blood pressure rising as he cursed under his breath, "You fool, you'll shatter all the bones in your hand!"
Akira made no response. Beneath the purple flames, his muscles and fascia trembled frantically as he compressed his power into every inch of his form, condensing it into lines and focusing it to a single point.
He concentrated all power from the inscribed Kidō patterns to one focal point, ready to release it in a devastating Ikkotsu.
⤫ Genshiki-ryū: Kurenai Raikou Sōka: Ikkotsu ⥤ Origin Style: Crimson Lightning Azure Fire: Single Bone! ⤬
Ansai desperately mobilized his Reiatsu, his lips bleeding from strain as he barely managed to summon his final defense.
⤫ Bakudō #81: Dankū ⥤ Splitting Void! ⤬
A transparent wall of light materialized before him, forming an supposedly unbreakable barrier.
Akira's fist crashed against it with a thunderous boom that could split clouds and shatter stone.
Did it block the attack?!
Ansai's eyes lit with wild joy, and he prepared to cast another Kidō to strike down Akira, who couldn't retreat after his assault.
But in that instant, spider web-like cracks spread from the point of impact across the wall of light!
Crack!!
The barrier shattered with a deafening sound, sending countless shards of light bursting between them, each fragment reflecting brilliant colors of Reiatsu.
Akira's fist broke through, striking squarely into Ansai's chest cavity. The sound of breaking bones echoed from the aged body.
Before Ansai could cry out, he stared fixedly at the young man, his lips trembling with unspoken words.
Thunder and burning heat exploded through his body, erupting into a massive pillar of light that pierced the heavens!
Scorching winds howled, obliterating everything in their path!
The ground quaked as countless dust particles swirled up, caught in the thunderous maelstrom that spread in all directions!
All eyes turned to the battlefield's center, transfixed by this worldview-shattering display.
So a Shinigami could unleash such terrifying power even without a Zanpakutō!
Or perhaps this was what it truly meant to be a Shinigami?!
As the dust settled, onlookers wore complex expressions, their minds wrestling with the gravity of what they had witnessed. When the scorching winds dispersed and smoke cleared, they saw Akira's swaying figure emerge.
The final attack had drained his Reiatsu completely and ravaged his body, despite his exceptionally strong Spiritual form.
Any ordinary Shinigami would have been half-turned to dust by such power.
Ansai had fared worse — he was nothing but ashes now, his ambitions crumbling with his body.
Genryūsai moved forward to steady his disciple. His face darkened as he assessed the damage.
The fool had pushed far beyond his limits. The excessive force had pulverized half the bones in his right arm.
Such devastating injuries would have forced any other Shinigami to face amputation and retirement.
Hopefully Unohana can treat this...
⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬
After some time passed, Akira slowly opened his eyes.
The location had changed — he was no longer in the ruins of the 1st Division's barracks, but in a familiar room at the 4th Division's Coordinated Relief Station.
"Too weak..." Akira sighed, frustrated that fighting such an insignificant opponent had forced him to use his ultimate killing move.
Not only had it completely drained his Reiatsu, but it had also left him weaker than he'd ever been.
Even his right arm... Wait, why couldn't he feel anything?
Could it be that his Little Righty...
"Now you understand fear?" A gentle, familiar voice sounded beside him.
Akira turned his head to see his personal physician—
Retsu Unohana.
"When fighting others, did you never consider the consequences?" Her tone was calm, but her words carried clear reproach.
Having finally found a genius, only to have him do this to himself.
"An opponent of that level should have been left to Captain-Commander Yamamoto. Why did you have to be so reckless?"
Hearing this, Akira sighed helplessly and said, "That old man Ansai was the head of the Tsunayashiro family. Even though his ambitions led him to commit unforgivable crimes... it still shouldn't have been left to old man Yama to handle. After all, as Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13, he has too many things to consider."
"When the nobles realize the Gotei aren't as stable as before, new turmoil will emerge, which will sweep across the entire Soul Society. The hard-won order would vanish in the process."
Unohana fell silent, her gaze carrying a hint of something different.
After a moment, she asked slowly, "Did you come up with this yourself?"
"Ha, of course!" Akira grinned, thumping his chest proudly with his good left hand, practically wearing the word 'pride' on his face, "As everyone knows, my wisdom transcends past and present—"
But Unohana suddenly interrupted him.
"With the Tsunayashiro conspiracy crushed and their family suffering unprecedented damage, what will happen next in Soul Society? Will new barriers form between the nobles and the Gotei 13, and what kind of turbulence will arise among the nobles? What roles will the Shihōin and Kuchiki play in all this..."
"Ahem, Captain Unohana, that's a bit too many questions..." The barrage of questions left him speechless.
What should he do? Aizen hadn't taught him the answers to these questions.
Can someone help? This is urgent, waiting online.
Truth was, his head was still foggy — unleashing power beyond his limits had left him unable to think clearly.
Otherwise, he could have at least given an answer that matched his personality, like saying Soul Society would enter a Warring States period of competing powers...
Looking at Akira, whose forehead was bulging with veins as he struggled to respond, Unohana heaved a deep sigh.
She knew it. Though she hadn't spent much time teaching him, her perceptive nature had already shown her that this young man who brought her such amusement wasn't good at thinking things through.
Or rather, Akira was better at solving problems through intuition.
"You should focus on how you're going to spend the coming time instead." Unohana said with a resigned expression, "Although I've used the best medicines and healing techniques, and your recovery ability is extraordinary, your injuries are too severe. You won't be able to engage in any strenuous activity for the next few months, let alone training or fighting."
Akira was dumbfounded.
Though he'd known his condition was serious, he hadn't imagined it would be this severe.
Just then, there was a knock at the door...
⤫⤬⤫
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บท 116: Chapter 116 ⥤ Could There Be Someone Even More Simple-Minded Than Me?
Yoruichi, visiting the patient, crossed her arms and furrowed her brows, her gaze fixed on Akira's right hand.
The bandages were wrapped so tightly that they resembled a dumpling.
"For ordinary Shinigami, even those who have become Captains, this is a grave injury. At minimum, amputation would be necessary for recovery." Unohana explained softly while tucking in Akira's blanket, "However, Kisaragi-kun's body is rather special, with healing abilities different from others. He just needs to stay under observation at the Coordinated Relief Station for a few months, and he should recover fully without any after-effects."
Hearing this explanation, Yoruichi's furrowed brows only deepened, her thin eyebrows nearly meeting.
She knew this guy's personality well — making him stay in a hospital room for such a long time would be like imprisonment, perhaps even worse.
"Isn't there any other treatment method?" She asked.
Unohana hesitated, then frowned, "It's not that there isn't one, but I haven't mastered it. As head of the Shihōin clan, you should know the name Kirinji Tenjirō?"
Yoruichi's eyes widened as she struck her left palm with her right fist with a crisp sound, exclaiming in sudden realization.
"You mean the Hell Springs?"
{T/N: This term refers to the two techniques created by Kirinji: White Bone Hell and Blood Pond Hell, both being a type of spring that helps heal the target.}
Unohana nodded, "The Hell Springs are an extremely advanced Kaidō technique invented by Kirinji Tenjirō, involving Reiatsu transformation. Through Reiatsu differentials, it filters out blood and injuries of those who soak in it, with effects far surpassing other healing methods. Unfortunately, due to incompatibility, I never learned it—"
Before she could finish speaking, Yoruichi had already flash-stepped away, leaving the two behind.
Unohana blinked and sighed helplessly, "Even though she's become both Clan Head and Captain, her personality remains so impetuous. Can this child really handle such heavy responsibilities?"
Just as she finished speaking, there was a knock at the door.
After receiving permission, the door slid open, and several figures entered the hospital room one after another.
Seeing who had arrived, Unohana was somewhat surprised, and even Akira's eyes widened.
"Captain-Commander Yamamoto." Unohana nodded slightly in acknowledgment.
"How is your recovery?" Genryūsai asked in his deep voice. He looked the same as usual — neither smiling nor speaking unnecessarily, his expression stern. It was as if he weren't visiting a patient but rather inspecting a prison.
"It's okay, just that my hand will be useless for..." Akira raised his bandaged hand that resembled a dumpling, greeting the old man while explaining.
Hearing this, Genryūsai's body suddenly stiffened, his expression gradually turning grim.
Strong regret welled up in his heart as countless memories played through his mind.
Could this boy's career as a Shinigami be coming to an end?
"A few months." Akira completed his unfinished sentence, waving his right hand that still had no feeling, and said rather optimistically, "I won't be able to study at the First Division during this time. Eh, teacher, why do you look so upset?"
"!!" Genryūsai's blood pressure spiked.
He had thought this young man would have to bid farewell to his career as a Shinigami forever, yet it turned out he merely needed a few months to recover. All that worry and heartache had been for nothing.
If it weren't for the need to maintain quiet in the hospital room, he would certainly give the boy an unforgettable lesson.
He'd settle accounts with him after his recovery.
Relieved there was nothing serious to worry about, he gave a few brief instructions and promptly departed. For the Captain-Commander to make time for a hospital visit during such a crucial period was already remarkable.
This demonstrated how much Genryūsai valued Akira.
Shortly after the old man left, two more visitors entered the hospital room, genuinely surprising Akira.
Ginrei Kuchiki and an unfamiliar young man.
The newcomer had handsome features and curious emerald eyes, wearing both noble's hair ornaments and the Kuchiki family's distinctive windflower silk — though his was red.
His appearance reminded Akira of someone: the genius known throughout Soul Society for defeating many rebels during the rebel war, the Kuchiki family's son-in-law, and 6th Division's 3rd Seat — Kōga Kuchiki.
Though Akira himself was called a genius, compared to Kōga, known as the Shinigami Killer, he was merely a rookie. If not for the recent Tsunayashiro rebellion, many might never have heard Akira's name.
But Kōga was different. As the main force of both the Kuchiki family and 6th Division on the rebel battlefield, he excelled in both Hakuda and Zanjutsu, truly standing among the elite Shinigami. Even Captains hesitated to face him directly.
{T/N: Just to explain that Zanjutsu, especially in this case, refers more broadly to the use of Zanpakutō itself, with all its powers and qualities. It's not just about how to swing a sword, otherwise it would be called Kenjutsu.}
Simply put, his Zanpakutō was too bizarre.
While Akira sized him up, Kōga was also studying him curiously.
From Ginrei's words, he had deduced that the young man in the hospital bed was the greatest contributor to this incident. All intelligence about Ansai Tsunayashiro had come from him.
Thanks to him, the Kuchiki family had prepared thoroughly, catching the attackers off guard and winning the war between noble families decisively.
What a good person, Kōga thought, his gaze toward Akira warming.
Noticing this goodwill, Akira gave him a strange look.
Why was this guy being so friendly without reason?
He recalled others who had shown immediate friendliness — Unohana, Yoruichi, Senjumaru... Without exception, they all had ulterior motives. And at least they were women...
Akira hurriedly shook his head, trying to banish this dangerous thought.
This was too scary...
Ginrei studied the young man before him with a puzzled expression. Despite his shrewd judgment and vast experience with people, he couldn't quite decipher what this youth was thinking.
Strange — this young man seemed to lack any trace of cunning.
"Lord Kisaragi, how are your injuries?" Setting aside his musings, he inquired about the patient's condition.
"Not bad, I'll recover after a few months of rest." Akira replied matter-of-factly.
"That's good to hear." Ginrei's visit served both as courtesy and goodwill, "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. You helped the Kuchiki family through a crisis — such a great favor must be repaid."
Akira grinned, "No problem, no problem, we can keep in touch in the future."
He had no immediate needs, but if something came up later, he could always approach this old piggybank. Since Ginrei had offered his goodwill, Akira wasn't one to stand on ceremony and accepted graciously.
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Ginrei and his companion departed.
Through Unohana's explanation, Akira learned that Sōjun Kuchiki occupied the next room.
During the previous night's raid, Sōjun had been injured defending against the rebels, and his recovery would take even longer than Akira's.
After their departure, a stream of visitors arrived — Jūshirō Ukitake, Shunsui Kyōraku, Gosuke, and members of the 11th Division.
Though Akira hadn't yet become a Captain, the Shinigami regarded him as one.
After all, who else would dare kill the head of one of the Five Noble Houses?
In the million-year history of Soul Society — not just the Gotei 13's mere centuries — how many had dared to challenge the Five Noble Houses?
And more impressively, which Captain would dare to face off against Captain-Commander Yamamoto, boldly declaring they would overturn Soul Society?
What's a mere Kenpachi compared to that?
They acknowledged only Lord Magistrate's sharp tongue!
When the crowd finally dispersed and silence returned to the room, a figure entered quietly.
Sensing the approach, Akira, curled up in bed, turned his head with a grin.
"Finally here, Sōsuke. Worth sending someone to the Twelfth Division to fetch you."
Seeing his friend's thickly bandaged right hand, Aizen could only sigh helplessly.
"You could have handled this using safer methods, but you chose the most dangerous one with the worst side effects. Do you have some kind of vendetta against your own body?"
Before, it was just a grudge against his brain, but now it had evolved into a full assault on his body.
Aizen seriously suspected that Akira's sole purpose for existing in this world was to get himself killed. If Ansai had been even slightly more resilient, this fool might have managed to do himself in without any help.
Among all the people and phenomena he had encountered, Akira was uniquely peculiar.
"It's not that bad." Akira said with an embarrassed laugh, "I didn't think it through at the time. You said we couldn't let old man Yama kill Ansai Tsunayashiro, so I figured I should finish him off quickly."
"Then I had this idea to concentrate the power of Byakurai, Shakkahō, and Sōkatsui into one point, releasing it through the Ikkotsu."
"Sure, the side effects were a bit severe, but the results were excellent. Kōmyōdai Ansai didn't even get to say his last words — just died on the spot, turned to ash, and scattered in the wind..."
As he described it, his tone grew increasingly animated.
Only when he noticed Aizen's cold stare did he catch himself, trailing off with a few awkward laughs.
"Consider this a lesson. Stay in the Coordinated Relief Station and reflect on your actions. Otherwise, you might do something even more reckless next time."
Akira was dumbfounded — he'd been hoping the ever-capable Aizen would use some advanced technology to heal him, but he hadn't expected such ruthlessness.
"Sōsuke, please help me! If I stay bedridden any longer, I'll get paralyzed! I can't stay here forever!"
His wails echoed through the hospital room, promptly attracting Unohana on her rounds.
She stood by the window, a gentle smile gracing her delicate face as her calm voice filled the room.
"Kisaragi-kun, is the Coordinated Relief Station really so detestable to you?"
In an instant, the temperature plummeted, as if killing intent were surging like a tide...
⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬
Shihōin Manor.
Yoruichi flash-stepped back to the study, frantically searching through the bookshelves. She stacked book after book aside until they formed a small mountain.
She piled the books on her desk and began reading through them.
During this time, Marenoshin came by once, but seeing his master so focused and serious, he didn't disturb her. He tiptoed out of the room, carefully closed the door, and let out a long breath, his broad face full of satisfaction.
Lady Yoruichi had actually learned to study on her own. His constant reminders and urging hadn't been in vain after all.
Although she had made some questionable friendships, at least she had pulled back from the brink and hadn't been led astray by certain people.
Just then—
A cheer erupted from the study.
"As expected of me, I found it after only twelve books! Now there's hope for healing Akira's hand!"
Bang!
The door burst open, and Yoruichi rushed out like a whirlwind, coming face to face with Marenoshin's frozen expression.
"Oh, Ōmaeda? Perfect timing — I'm heading out. Make sure to handle the Second Division's duties for me."
Before he could refuse, Yoruichi had vanished from sight.
Marenoshin stared after her, his face full of bitterness.
He had thought Lady Yoruichi had turned over a new leaf, but in the end, she was just studying for someone else's sake.
Joy turned to sorrow — that described his situation perfectly. In the empty courtyard, his weak sighs echoed continuously.
"Ah..."
⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬
By evening, Yoruichi returned to the Coordinated Relief Station.
In the hospital room, she proudly displayed the book's contents to Akira like a child showing off a new toy.
"What's this?"
"Read it and you'll know."
Fighting off drowsiness, he forced himself to read through the text.
Hell's Hot Spring: A Kaidō technique invented by Kirinji Tenjirō, the Hot Spring Demon.
It was a hot spring formed from one's own Reiatsu, possessing extraordinary healing properties. It could mend flesh and bone, even reviving those near death. As long as a person still drew breath, this technique could bring them back from the brink.
This was considered the most advanced Kaidō technique in all of Soul Society.
"Once we create this, your hand can recover quickly!" Yoruichi smiled, "The Shihōin family can provide the rare materials needed, but there's one problem — we need a Shinigami with both powerful Reiatsu and Kaidō skills to create the Hell's Hot Spring."
At this point, she frowned slightly, looking at Akira on the hospital bed.
"Someone like that seems hard to find... Maybe I should learn healing techniques? No, that won't work — by the time I master it, your injury would already be healed."
The dark-skinned girl fell into deep thought.
Akira blinked, studying the contemplating Yoruichi. For the first time, he felt intellectually outmatched.
He hadn't expected to find someone even more simple-minded than himself in Soul Society, and right beside him no less.
"Say..." He grinned, "Would Captain Unohana meet the requirements?"
⤫⤬⤫
T/N: If you want more chapters like this, check out my Patreon! Take a look at my other translations too, you might like them!
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