Seeing Aiyan finally unleash the Hundred-Step Flying Sword that she had long yearned to witness, Unohana Retsu no longer held back.
As the First Generation Kenpachi, she had her own pride.
Since Aiyan hadn't used his Zanpakutō's abilities, she chose not to use hers either.
Boom!
Facing the massive golden Reiatsu dragon crashing down from above, her body exploded with blood-red light, thick as a crimson mist. Her Reiatsu, carrying a sharp and chilling blood scent, surged into the sky, completely engulfing her.
The moment she clashed with the dragon, she swung her sword one-handed. The blood-red blade of spiritual pressure erupted with terrifying power, crashing into the dragon head-on. Her aura, worthy of the title First Kenpachi, met Aiyan's monstrous slash in a violent collision.
There were no Kidō—no colorful spells, no Shikai or Bankai abilities.
Only raw swordsmanship. Pure and primal.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Despite the simplicity, the clash released terrifying power. Sword force tore through the area, uprooting massive trees and instantly chopping them into splinters. The ground cracked like dry earth, creating spider web-like fissures. Dust and debris rose in towering waves, shaking the sky.
In the center of the forest, the Reiatsu Dragon and the Bloody Sword Light fought for dominance.
The night sky was torn in two.
On one side gold.
On the other blood.
It created a scene as surreal as a dream, yet deadly real.
Crack!
No one knew how long the violent struggle lasted until the sound of something tearing—like ripping silk—cut through the chaos.
The blood-red sword light shattered.
The golden dragon dissolved.
Even the huge dust column that had surged into the sky scattered and collapsed.
Silence returned.
In what used to be a forest—now nothing more than a scorched battlefield—came the soft, chilling sound of blood dripping onto the ground.
Drip… drip…
"The feeling of a blade piercing flesh… it's been so long."
Unohana Retsu's body trembled slightly, then quickly steadied. She lowered her head to look at her chest.
From front to back, a clean, straight wound ran through her torso pierced entirely by the Hundred-Step Flying Sword.
A normal person, even a high-ranking Shinigami, would collapse in agony.
But not her.
Her face—though pale—was filled with intoxicated joy, almost ecstatic.
The pain didn't bother her.
The blood didn't frighten her.
Her focus was fully on the sword technique, Aiyan's sword.
She was completely immersed in it.
"Is that your sword style?"
She gently ran her fingers along the blood-covered wound on her chest.
Aiyan stood calmly nearby, raising a hand.
With a loud clang, his Zanpakutō—still glowing faintly with golden Reiatsu—returned to his palm.
"What do you think?" he asked.
Unohana didn't hesitate. "Unrestrained… and all-encompassing."
Aiyan nodded slightly, then glanced at her wound. "Do you want to keep going?"
"I'm the captain of the Fourth Division," Unohana said, her voice calm and clear, even as she activated Kaidō on herself.
"You know what that means."
"But what you don't know is why I mastered healing in the first place."
She placed her hand on her injury. A green glow formed, slowly closing the wound.
"I didn't learn Kaidō for compassion or duty. I learned it to keep enjoying the thrill of battle."
"Injury, pain, fatigue—those things dull the excitement."
"More importantly, I feared accidentally killing a worthy opponent… before I could enjoy the fight to its fullest."
As she spoke, the bloody gash sealed almost completely.
Of course, only on the surface.
Not even the strongest Kaidō could instantly heal damage caused by Aiyan's sword. Only Orihime's Sōten Kisshun could truly reverse such harm.
Unohana knew that too.
But for her, it wasn't about fully healing.
It was about removing distractions—pain, fatigue, blood loss—so the battle could continue.
"Is that so?"
"That's a pity."
Aiyan smiled faintly.
"From here on out, your only concern should be whether Kaidō can heal defeat."
Unohana's lips curved into a faint smile. "We'll see."
"Oh, and one more thing." Her eyes sparkled with an odd glint. "I owe you an apology."
"The name 'Unohana Retsu'… is not my real name."
"That sword just now proved you're worthy of knowing who I really am."
With a small bow, she said softly:
"Nice to meet you again. I am Unohana… Yachiru."
"Named for mastering every sword style in the Soul Society."
"Or maybe you'll know me better by this name…"
"The First Kenpachi of the Gotei 13."
At that moment, Aizen—who had been quietly observing—finally understood.
Every mystery made sense.
Why did the captain of a medical squad have such terrifying swordsmanship?
Why did she give off such bloodlust under the moonlight?
Because she wasn't just any captain.
She was the First Kenpachi. The founding captain of the Eleventh Division.
"Master of all sword styles?"
Aiyan chuckled lightly.
"That's not quite true, Captain Unohana."
"You haven't mastered mine."
"That's why you're here tonight, right?"
Unohana's eyes burned with hunger, her fighting spirit rising like wildfire.
"You're a genius of kendo," she said. "Someone who could build a whole new school of swordsmanship."
"Let me see it. Show me more. Give me everything."
Gone was the kind, healing angel.
What stood now was a sword demon thirsting for violence.
"Aiyan Sōsuke!"
With that shout, she disappeared with a burst of Shunpo. Her blade tore through the air, targeting Aiyan's neck with unstoppable speed.
"You want to please me?"
Aiyan narrowed his eyes.
"You really think you can?"
Just as Unohana's Zanpakutō was about to reach his neck, Aiyan did something shocking.
Clang!
He sheathed his sword.
Aizen's eyes widened.
Unohana, too, was momentarily confused.
"What are you doing?"
"A Shinigami without a sword… is like a tiger without claws."
"Or are you out of strength already?"
But her blade didn't slow down, slicing toward him with deadly pressure.
...
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