Mirai stepped out of the Senkaimon, and a harsh, unpleasant stench hit him at once.
Burnt wood. Mud churned into dust. And beneath it all, the metallic tang of blood.
Noise flooded his ears—shrill clashes of steel, the ragged cries of the dying, the dull pounding of war drums, and countless voices shouting over one another.
He steadied himself and scanned the scene.
They were in the middle of a battlefield.
Either the Senkaimon hadn't been set to avoid the fighting, or the battle had spread so wide there was no safe place to land. They had arrived right at the edge of the conflict.
A ravaged plain stretched out before him. Broken flags, shattered armor, and arrows lay half-buried in the mud, along with dark, unidentifiable debris scattered across the ground.
Human soldiers were locked in brutal combat. Their blades flashed under the pale morning light. Every strike was meant to kill.
Between the living fighters and the corpses, souls began to appear—thin chains linking their chests to the bodies they had left behind.
Those chains were fragile. Again and again, they snapped with a sharp crack before the souls could get very far.
Freed from their bodies, the souls still clung to the fury and fear of their final moments. Spotting the enemies who had killed them, they lunged without hesitation.
Both sides kept tearing at each other, even more vicious than they had been in life.
During his internship, Mirai had guided souls before—but those spirits were usually calm. He had never seen newly dead souls fight with this much rage.
"Everyone! Start Konsō guidance right now! Don't let them keep fighting! If their anger grows, they'll turn into Hollows quickly!"
Shiba Kaien's voice rang across the battlefield. The Third Seat of the 13th Division looked grim as he issued orders.
"Yes, sir!"
The 13th Division responded in unison. Well-trained and efficient, they moved in groups of three to five toward the brawling souls.
Ashido stood beside Mirai. The Lieutenant of the 11th Division remained still, watching the battlefield with no sign of concern over the 13th Division's work.
Mirai glanced at him, puzzled. "Lieutenant Ashido, aren't you going to help with the guidance? They seem shorthanded."
Without a word, Ashido raised his right hand and pointed into the distance, where smoke hung thick and the air reeked of blood.
Mirai followed the gesture. At the edge of the field, the air split open. Irregular black holes formed one after another.
Hollows.
Monsters born from corrupted souls, feeding on other spirits.
They came in many forms—some like giant insects, others like mangled animals or sludge given shape. Each wore a white mask.
Drawn by souls and negativity, they screeched and plunged toward the spirits.
Ashido lowered his hand. His voice was flat. "The 11th Division's mission is to eliminate these Hollows. We stop them from devouring souls and spreading chaos."
The moment he finished, a white blur shot past him.
"Hahaha! Let's go! First one there gets the prey!"
Kuruyashiki Kenpachi's booming laughter rolled across the field. He didn't even draw his sword—he charged straight into the Hollows.
Spiritual Pressure surged around his fists. He obliterated a Hollow with a single punch as it tried to pounce on a soul.
"Captain! Wait for us!"
"Charge! Whoever kills the fewest buys drinks tonight!"
"No way! You're definitely the one paying!"
The 11th Division roared as they rushed in, blades raised, swarming the Hollows.
They didn't spare a thought for the dying humans. They only wanted the hunt—and the competition.
For them, this was the perfect mission.
Ashido watched his men surge forward. The hand he'd been about to lift for orders lowered instead. His expression cooled slightly.
Mirai looked at him. "You're not going up?"
Ashido turned his head, calm eyes meeting Mirai's. "My mission this time is to watch over you."
He paused, then added, "Captain Kuruyashiki ordered me to keep Mirai safe. You're a Fifth Seat of the 9th Division doing 'field research.' I'm to prevent any injuries."
His tone remained neutral, but Mirai could tell Ashido wasn't pleased.
"I don't understand why a Fifth Seat of the Gotei 13 needs a personal guard here," Ashido said bluntly. "But it's an order, so I'll obey."
The meaning was obvious. Using a Lieutenant as a bodyguard for a Fifth Seat felt like a waste of strength—almost an insult to the others.
Mirai was caught off guard. He hadn't expected Kuruyashiki Kenpachi to plan something this carefully.
Was he worried about a weak author getting hurt? Or was there another reason?
The battlefield was chaos, but Mirai could protect himself. Standing around while a Lieutenant watched him felt like a waste of time.
He thought for a moment. He didn't argue. He simply raised his right hand and pointed to his right.
There, a soldier's soul was clawing at another spirit with its bare hands, making a strange, wet sound.
Its mouth gaped open. A grayish-white fluid began to seep out—signs of Hollowfication.
Mirai's lips moved. His voice was quiet.
"Hadō #4: Byakurai."
A thin bolt of silver lightning snapped from his fingertip. It sliced through the air and struck the soul squarely in the head.
The spirit went still. Its expression froze. Then its entire body broke into light and vanished.
No long chant. No wasted motion. It was as natural as breathing.
Beside him, Ashido's eyebrow twitched. He looked at Mirai. "A chantless Byakurai with that kind of power and speed."
"You clearly can protect yourself. Your Kidō skill is enough for a Lieutenant."
"In that case," Ashido didn't wait any longer. He turned toward the battlefield. "Take care with your 'field research.' I'm going to finish my mission."
"By all means, Lieutenant Ashido," Mirai nodded.
Ashido said nothing more. He vanished in a blur, reappearing far away as his blade cleaved a Hollow in half mid-lunge toward a group of Shinigami.
Ashido was gone. Mirai looked back over the battlefield.
This was a massive engagement. Both sides had committed everything—tens of thousands of soldiers.
If even a third of them died, there would be thousands of furious souls.
But there were only about two hundred Shinigami here.
They had to guide souls and fight Hollows at the same time. The pressure was enormous.
Mirai's gaze swept across the chaos, past the Shinigami and the Hollows, to the main camp on the left side of the field.
Tents and flags filled that area. Near them, he spotted two figures in white.
They were holding the chains of dead soldiers. Their heads were bowed, their mouths moving as if chanting a ritual.
Their Spiritual Pressure felt strange—nothing like a Shinigami, and nothing like a Hollow.
"That is...?"
Mirai narrowed his eyes. Without alerting anyone, he gathered Reishi beneath his feet and began moving toward them in complete silence.