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"Two-Handed Kendo."
"One-Sword Style. Iaido Slash!"
Kenpachi's eyes turned solemn.
For once, he was completely serious.
Both hands tightened around the hilt. Then he swung down with all his strength.
A thunderous boom tore through the desert.
A massive column of golden spiritual pressure erupted from his blade. It swallowed the swirling white sand around him and shot straight into the sky like a blazing pillar.
Clouds burst apart.
The ground trembled.
The pale desert looked as if it might collapse entirely.
And this was only the pressure leaking out from the start of his two-handed stance.
—
Las Noches.
"Gulp…"
The sound of someone swallowing echoed again.
Just moments ago, thanks to Grimmjow's rowdy entrance, the inner hall had finally become lively. Now it fell dead silent in an instant.
"What terrifying spiritual pressure!"
The golden light nearly overflowed the screen. Every Arrancar in the hall was frozen in shock.
None of them had imagined that Kenpachi, simply by gripping his sword with both hands, could unleash something so overwhelmingly destructive.
"K-Kendo? Don't screw with me… Why don't I get results like that?!"
Grimmjow's expression locked in place, one hand trembling inside his pocket.
Among the Espada, he was the one most accustomed to fighting with his Zanpakutō. He typically swung it one-handed like Kenpachi, relying on his own monstrous reiatsu, only switching to both hands when pushed to the edge.
But even then…
He certainly didn't remember his power multiplying just from gripping his sword properly.
Something like this… should be impossible.
"The difference is too big. Nnoitra doesn't stand a chance!" Harribel's voice emerged from behind her high white collar, shaken.
Her sea-green eyes reflected the sight of the collapsing desert, and even she felt her heart tighten.
The other Vasto Lorde—Starrk, Baraggan, and Ulquiorra—were equally stunned by the sheer force erupting from that two-handed slash.
And this was just a normal attack.
It made one wonder how deep Kenpachi's true strength went.
Shock was one thing… emotion was another. Arrancar didn't bother with either.
So after only a brief moment, Grimmjow recovered. He cast a sideways glance at Nnoitra, whose face had already darkened, and said with a cold, mocking laugh:
"Heh. So, Nnoitra, you still wanna argue with me?"
The Panther King bared his teeth in satisfaction. Watching his rival face humiliation put him in a great mood.
As for whether a fellow Espada lived or died? That wasn't his problem.
"You…"
Nnoitra shook with rage.
His face, red with panic a moment ago, was turning dark and blotchy. He looked like a cornered animal.
No one in this world was truly fearless, not even the brutal Espada.
Watching a vision of your own death unfold in front of you was enough to break anyone.
Nnoitra snapped.
At last, as a hundred-meter sandstorm lifted off the ground, the solid pillar of golden reiatsu smashed apart the clouds above and dropped from the sky like a blazing waterfall.
A massive impact shook the feed. The camera trembled violently.
Golden light tore through the desert layer by layer, carving rifts through the ground—
And swallowed Nnoitra whole.
The screen cut to black.
The footage, rendered with stunning realism, delivered the truth to every viewer.
—
Squad One.
"Ah… Two-Handed Kendo. So that's what this is about."
Yamamoto leaned on his old wooden cane. A hint of satisfaction flickered through his ancient, weathered eyes.
A memory drifted through his mind—those days in the dojo teaching a younger Kenpachi the fundamentals of swordsmanship.
The anger he'd been holding in since the Quincy incident finally eased a little.
"Head Captain…" Seeing his mood lighten, Chōjirō seized the chance to flatter him. "Captain Zaraki's performance really proves how keen your judgment has always been. You saw his potential from the start."
"But…"
Chōjirō paused, then continued:
"I noticed the Espada he cut down had the number five on him. Looks like their ranking is becoming clearer."
As Yamamoto's lieutenant, Chōjirō had been diligently keeping track of every detail, reporting findings to the Technological Development Bureau as soon as they appeared.
Up to now, they'd already identified:
Rank 10: YammyRank 7: ZommariRank 5: NnoitraRank 3: Harribel
The fragmented images from the future were gradually revealing the Espada—their personalities, appearances, and even the powers they gained after releasing their blades.
"Indeed."
Yamamoto nodded calmly. "Aside from the third Espada, whose ability to manipulate ocean currents is slightly troublesome, the rest pose no threat."
Arrogant as it sounded, it was simply the truth.
As the strongest Shinigami of the millennium, Yamamoto had every right to dismiss the Espada.
"Chōjirō…"
He shifted topics, his tone turning grave.
"What concerns me more than the Arrancar is the Sternritter. That battle with the 'imagination man'…"
"I want to know whether Zaraki survived it."
—
At that very moment, while the Head Captain and the old Western elder spoke, the dark screen lit up again. A new battlefield filled the feed.
Thunder crashed. Ice split. Lava roared.
The same cataclysmic sounds from the previous round returned.
Then came the eruption of molten rock… and the raging blizzard.
As if time had rewound, the battle was replaying from the moment everything began.
This sudden scene sent shockwaves through the entire Soul Society.
—
Squad Eleven.
"?!"
One second, the entire squad had been cheering over Kenpachi's performance. The next, with the return of the natural disasters, the room instantly froze with tension.
"Huh? Why does this feel familiar?" Ikkaku scratched his bald head in confusion.
"Idiot! It's not 'familiar.' It's literally the same fight from before!" Ayasegawa snapped, rolling his eyes.
The moment the battlefield reappeared, he could barely contain himself.
After all… this round was focusing on Captain Kenpachi.
Which meant the fight against Gremmy Thoumeaux could only end one way—
Kenpachi was still alive.
"Yeah! Yeah, that's it! I remember now!" Ikkaku shouted, his excitement exploding. "Captain's about to pull off a comeback!"
Hope surged in the room.
Ikkaku's eyes burned with anticipation. Even when that massive meteor had crushed the battlefield last round, he never doubted his captain's survival.
As if a man worthy of absolute loyalty would die so easily.
"Exactly! This is great! Little Ken is still alive!"
Yachiru jumped in place, spinning happily. Her joy was infectious.
Sure enough, on the next frame, the demon-like silhouette returned to the screen—alive and unstoppable.
"Heh… a disaster, huh?"
Kenpachi slung his sword over one shoulder and looked up, calm and wild all at once, radiating absolute faith in his own power.
"A fake threat like this? I'll cut it down with one swing."
"..."
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