"One last time."
At the center referee platform of the Grand Training Field, Mutsuki Shōkaku looked at Ling Qing and Mikazuki Munenori, now standing on opposite sides of the arena, and spoke loudly:
"A True Blade Trial. Life and death are not guaranteed… are you both certain you wish to proceed?"
This was a mandatory procedure of a True Blade Trial, a rule established when Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto founded Shin'ō Academy.
It was not meant to force students to gamble their lives—but to make them understand the cost of impulsiveness.
"Do you even need to ask?"
Mikazuki gripped his sword hilt with one hand, eyes locked on Ling Qing without looking back.
"Confirmed."
Ling Qing's reply was far calmer.
That was simply his nature.
The more serious the situation, the steadier his mind became.
A perfect examination-type combatant.
"Then—"
Mutsuki's gaze paused briefly on each of them. Once she confirmed both were ready—
"True Blade Trial—"
Her arm cut downward like a blade.
"Begin!"
The instant her voice fell, Mitarashi, standing opposite the referee platform, raised his voice in a clear incantation:
"Bakudō Number Thirty-Nine—Enjōsen!"
A nearly transparent circular barrier spread outward from Mitarashi, rapidly sealing off the entire Grand Training Field.
"Hah…"
Mitarashi wiped sweat from his temple and rose from one knee.
This Enjōsen was far from the standard version taught in textbooks.
Its wide defensive range clearly incorporated techniques from Bakudō Number Seventy-Three, Tōzan Shō. His Kidō skill more than justified his rank.
Defensive Bakudō was not strictly required in a True Blade Trial.
However, this rare public duel had drawn far more spectators—students and seated officers alike—than expected.
Mitarashi had little choice.
It was not that he believed two students could cause massive destruction, but the audience included many first-year students. Even a stray Red Fire Cannon could cause casualties.
As the person primarily responsible for the field, he reinforced safety to the fullest extent.
Not to mention—he had noticed the presence of several vice-captains and high-ranking officers in the crowd.
In any case—
Preparations were complete.
The battle began.
"Ruler of the skies—"
Mikazuki, who had been gripping his sword moments earlier, did not charge forward.
Instead, he lowered his body sharply into a stance resembling a forward rush, extending his right arm straight toward Ling Qing.
"Kidō?"
Ling Qing did not draw his sword either.
His swordsmanship was inferior to Mikazuki's—there was no reason to compete on that front.
What surprised him was Mikazuki's decision not to close the distance, but to begin a Hadō chant instead.
They knew each other well.
While Mikazuki was capable of earning top marks in Kidō, the gap between him and Ling Qing was far greater than the gap in swordsmanship.
Yes.
The one who questioned Ling Qing earlier was Mikazuki.
The one now acting cautiously was also Mikazuki.
This was not noble scheming—it was basic battlefield discipline.
"Mask of flesh and blood, all creation, beating wings, bear the name of humanity—"
As Mikazuki's left palm braced against his inner elbow, light and heat began to flare at one side of the field.
"Red Fire Cannon," Ling Qing concluded instantly.
Mikazuki's fundamentals were solid. In under two seconds, the first half of the chant was complete.
"…No threat."
As a standard evaluation spell, Ling Qing knew exactly what a Grade-A Red Fire Cannon could do.
He did not even need to wait for the chant to finish.
A chantless White Lightning would pierce straight through the fire sphere—and through Mikazuki himself, if he chose.
However—
Ling Qing did not use White Lightning.
"Mikazuki isn't ignorant of this," Ling Qing thought calmly.
"After seeing my White Lightning earlier, he knows exactly what I can do."
"Which means…"
Ling Qing's gaze fixed on the rapidly condensing flames.
"This is a trap."
His relaxed right hand slowly curled closed, finger by finger—until only the index finger remained extended.
Silent spiritual pressure gathered at its tip.
At the same time—
Seeing that Ling Qing still had not charged, Mikazuki's chant paused for the briefest instant—
Then accelerated sharply.
"Truth and restraint, wall of unknowable sin, stand upon it alone!"
"—!"
The chant had changed.
"As expected."
Not Red Fire Cannon.
Hadō Numbers Thirty-One, Thirty-Two, and Thirty-Three shared identical opening chants.
Among them, Number Thirty-Two, Yellow Fire Flash, possessed the greatest destructive power, while Number Thirty-Three—
Blue Firefall—was the fastest.
Red Fire Cannon was easy to evade.
Blue Firefall was not.
If Ling Qing rushed in recklessly, he would fall straight into Mikazuki's plan.
"Hadō Number Thirty-Three—Blue Firefall!"
"Hah!"
Mikazuki's palms split apart, fingers splayed in a claw-like shape.
A blue-white pillar of flame erupted forward, roaring toward Ling Qing at terrifying speed.
If Red Fire Cannon was a fireball, then Blue Firefall was a flamethrower.
In a single second, it crossed half the arena—and would strike true in the next.
Ling Qing made his judgment the moment it launched.
One finger was not enough.
His middle finger snapped back into place beside the index finger.
Their spiritual pressure intertwined and compressed, whisper-quiet beneath the roar of flames.
"Hadō Number One—"
The two-finger sword sign slashed diagonally across the attack's path.
"—Thrust."
"Boom!"
Spiritual pressure collided, wind exploding outward and ruffling Ling Qing's neat hair.
The Blue Firefall was deflected nearly ninety degrees, slamming directly into Mitarashi's Enjōsen.
"Bang!"
Flames scattered violently.
Though the difference between Hadō Thirty-Three and Bakudō Thirty-Nine was not vast, Mikazuki's level was nowhere near Mitarashi's.
All heat and impact were sealed within the barrier.
Yet the blinding flash left a deep impression on every low-year student watching.
And more than that—
So did Ling Qing's effortless motion.
"H-hey!"
"What was that just now?!"
For students about to enroll, watching graduation exams was meant to broaden their horizons.
This year, their horizons had expanded far too much.
"Let me check—"
"Found it! Hadō Thirty-Three, Blue Firefall!"
A bespectacled student flipped frantically through a brand-new textbook, trying to match the chant to an illustration.
"Of course I know Blue Firefall!"
"That's not what I meant!"
"I mean the move that knocked it aside!"
"This… it's not here!"
As the stands erupted into chatter—
"Hmph."
A black shihakushō leaned quietly against the arena wall.
Shinji Hirako crossed his arms and spat out the chewed grass stem in his mouth.
"Bunch of kids."
His gaze returned to the center of the field.
"There's no mid- or low-level Kidō that redirects attacks."
"…Hadō Number One. Thrust."
To captain-level eyes, Ling Qing's movement was crystal clear.
"Their spiritual pressure gap isn't that wide. Which means…"
"Anti-Kidō technique," a calm female voice added.
"A shortcut," Shinji replied casually.
"True Anti-Kidō nullifies a spell with equal type and output. Even captains who can do that are rare."
He replayed the scene in his mind.
"That kid only weakened the flame and changed its trajectory. A single Thrust couldn't deflect Blue Firefall otherwise."
"But mastering Anti-Kidō starts exactly like this."
"…Fair enough."
After a short silence, Shinji turned.
"Long time no see, Third Seat Hirako."
Lisa Yadōmaru adjusted her red-framed glasses.
"Vice-Captain Yadōmaru," Shinji replied lazily. "What brings you here?"
"I'm here on Captain Kyōraku's orders," Lisa said flatly.
"To observe him."
"Huh?"
Shinji raised an eyebrow.
"He's just an academy student. Even if suspicious, isn't he too weak to warrant that?"
"…Recruitment?"
"His instructor is a Fifth Division officer," Shinji said.
Then he shrugged.
"Though, to be fair, whose instructor isn't?"
"…You have a point."
Lisa dropped the subject.
"Hah… hah…"
Mikazuki's breathing was heavy.
His right arm hung limp, like a mast shattered by cannon fire.
The accelerated chant had drained his stamina—and damaged his arm.
Muscles spasmed from spiritual pressure overload. His palm was charred black, blood and ash dripping onto the floor.
"Hah…"
He steadied his breathing.
"That move just now…"
His eyes locked onto Ling Qing's two fingers.
"What was it?"
"Hadō Number One. Thrust."
"…Are you mocking me?"
Mikazuki's brow twitched.
Thrust was the first Kidō taught at Shin'ō Academy—the weakest of all Hadō.
Barely stronger than flicking someone's forehead.
To deflect Blue Firefall with it would require overwhelming spiritual pressure—
The kind only a Gotei 13 captain could display against a student.
"No."
Ling Qing calmly flexed his stiff middle finger.
"It was Thrust."
"I simply added… my own interpretation."
Thrust released a formless blast of spiritual pressure from the fingers.
Its standard output was nowhere near enough to counter Blue Firefall.
Ling Qing had used chantless casting—but expended more than ten times the usual spiritual pressure.
He also used two fingers.
Not only to amplify output, but to create a minute angle—like sloped armor.
He struck precisely at the weakest point of the flame's structure, redirecting it with just enough force.
Though Ling Qing specialized in only a few Kidō, when necessary—
He surpassed his peers by a vast margin.
When he told Mutsuki he was "not good" at mid-level Kidō—
That was only compared to his mastery of White Lightning.
"Your own interpretation…?"
The mockery was absolute.
While others chased evaluation standards, Ling Qing was already upgrading Kidō itself.
A gap in dimensions.
"You wouldn't happen to mean—"