Chapter 164 – 164 ⥤ Too Weak to Even Swing a Sword, Yet You Call Yourself Kenpachi?

Having gained a great warrior, Akira was in high spirits.

Coming before Sajin, he reached out and vigorously rubbed the dog-like head.

The fur was smooth and flowing, wonderfully soft to the touch. The feel was truly first-rate!

However, Sajin didn’t seem comfortable with this familiar treatment, shaking his head and rising from the ground.

Since Akira’s forward palm strike hadn’t used much force, Sajin hadn’t suffered any serious injury. The Wolfman Clan’s constitution far exceeded that of normal Shinigami, so after a brief rest, he had recovered his strength.

Looking at the gathering crowd, Sajin instinctively wanted to bare his fangs, but he quickly realized these men from the 11th Division harbored no ill intent.

Throughout his wanderings in the Soul Society, his appearance had earned him strange looks and rejection. No village or town had ever accepted him — some had even hired powerful wanderers to drive him away.

Though these people’s gazes were fierce, Sajin could sense their goodwill, and even… admiration and respect?

Perhaps joining these Shinigami wouldn’t be such a bad choice?

{T/N: The worst choice you ever made.}

Just then, Akira spoke up beside him.

“Wanko, during your time wandering the Rukongai, have you heard of any particularly strong or clever wanderers?”

Sajin was stunned, only then realizing that “Wanko” referred to him.

{T/N: Wanko is a Japanese word meaning “doggy” or “puppy”, derived from “wan” (the sound dogs make) and “ko”. The word also exists in Polish with a similar meaning.}

He wanted to protest the nickname, but given their difference in strength, he had no choice but to accept it with humility. Though it sounded undignified, at least it meant the other party saw him as one of their own.

What simple and unpretentious trust!

After a moment’s thought, he spoke in a deep voice, “I haven’t met any clever wanderers, but I’ve encountered quite a few powerful ones, like the famous Kitanjō from West Rukongai’s 73rd District. As everyone knows, he was a man who aspired to become Captain of the Eleventh Division…”

Midway through speaking, Sajin suddenly remembered that this youth who would be his boss had invited him to join the 11th Division.

“Kitanjō, he…”

“Is dead.” Akira grinned, as if discussing something entirely unrelated to himself, “When he came to challenge the Eleventh Division, he broke the rules and attacked my subordinates without permission, so I struck him a bit harder than usual.”

His Zanpakuto shattered with one punch — there was no way he could have survived.

For someone who didn’t follow the rules, being destroyed with one punch was only natural. Besides, he was both stupid and ugly, matching with his frail brother, completely mismatched with the 11th Division’s style of being both brave and wise.

Even if he hadn’t died, Akira wouldn’t have let him join his Division.

“Forget I mentioned it.” Sajin shook his dog head, “There’s another guy with a fierce face and tall, thin build who goes around challenging others. He’s more terrifying than the previous one, and stronger too. I came to live in these mountains to avoid him…”

But before he could finish speaking, a Reiatsu like that of a wild beast swept through the forest, full of aggression and accompanied by maniacal, demonic laughter.

“I’ve caught your scent!”

Akira raised an eyebrow, sensing the power of this Reiatsu. Compared to the fat one from before, it was overwhelmingly stronger.

As the laughter drew closer, the Shinigami faced the threat head-on, drawing their swords for battle.

The forest trees shuddered, sending flocks of birds into flight, as if some mighty beast were charging through them.

Sajin’s face filled with concern, “You should all leave first — that guy is coming for me. If you get caught in the crossfire, it won’t end well.”

Akira glanced back with a cold snort, “Say that kind of nonsense again and I’ll kick you out. The Eleventh Division never abandons its members!”

If word got out that he’d abandoned his subordinates when facing a strong enemy, how could he — the Great, Honorable, and Handsome Akira Kisaragi — show his face in the Soul Society again?

The 11th Division’s members would look down on him, and even that Aizen would mock him, not to mention Kisuke.

Such a thing would keep them laughing for three to five years. They’d probably wake up chuckling from their dreams.

Besides, how would they know they couldn’t win without fighting? If he dared throw punches at the Old Man, could some mere wanderer really turn the heavens upside down?

Soon, a menacing figure appeared before them.

He was a demon-faced man with black hair falling messily down his back in wild tufts, resembling a youthful Super Saiyan 3. His body was oddly proportioned — long-limbed and lean, yet rippling with defined muscles.

Most striking was the scar that carved through his left eye, running from above the socket down to his chin. One could only imagine the battle that had left such a fierce mark. His narrow pupils blazed with beast-like excitement and aggression; next to him, the 11th Division’s members looked like mere children.

He towered over everyone present — not a single person in the gathering matched his height.

On his shoulder perched a pink-haired little girl, her bell-like laughter ringing constantly.

“Hmm? Shinigami?” The man noticed the 11th Division’s members, and battle lust ignited in his eyes.

He sized up everyone present, his knife-sharp gaze sweeping over each person without pause.

Until he found Akira. When their eyes met, the man froze, as if lost in thought.

After a long moment, his mouth split into a grin, white teeth gleaming in the sunlight, followed by deep, rumbling laughter.

The laughter grew until it thundered through the forest, his fierce face twisting with maniacal glee, his expression growing ever more savage.

“Hahaha!!!” The man covered his face with his hand, head thrown back, crimson light seeping through his fingers, his whole being radiating madness, “How exciting! I didn’t expect to find such a strong opponent! I’m called Kenpachi Zaraki — come, let’s have a magnificent battle!”

{T/N: To be clear, he took this title as his name, as he also did with Zaraki, the name of his District. The same thing for the little girl, Yachiru (from Unohana) Kusajishi (from her District)}

Before Akira could react, Squad 11’s Soul Reapers erupted in outrage.

“Isn’t that Lord Magistrate’s title?!”

“Such disrespect — this guy doesn’t understand the importance of the Kenpachi title at all!”

“Cut him down! The Soul Society can have only one Kenpachi, and that’s Lord Magistrate!”

Everyone was in an uproar, drawing their swords to face Zaraki, who towered over them with overwhelming ferocity.

{T/N: Same thing, everyone calls him Zaraki, so I’ll use it. Not that he has any name at all…}

Seeing this scene, Sajin was shocked. He hadn’t expected these people would draw their swords against someone so much stronger than themselves, all to defend a mere title.

Could this be what they called loyalty?!

His gaze grew distant as he watched the scene unfold.

Just as everyone was about to make their move, Akira looked toward the shadows of the branches nearby and called out, “Senior Kyōraku, please come help!”

A figure emerged from the shadows, wearing a pink-patterned haori and straw hat — it was Shunsui, who had been ordered to prevent any accidents.

“Little junior brother’s perception is quite sharp.” He scratched his head, “Do you need me to help you cut down this guy?”

Akira waved his hand, “Not at all necessary. This guy is one of my targets for this mission. Leave it to me. Senior brother, please help watch over the others — don’t let them get hurt by the battle’s aftershocks, especially Wanko here.”

He firmly patted Sajin beside him.

Shunsui looked at the big “dog” with mild surprise but showed no unusual reaction.

As one of the few veteran Captains of the Gotei 13, he had seen many things and even encountered the Wolfman Clan during a previous mission. However, such a well-behaved Wolfman was rare. His junior had truly found a treasure this time.

Under Akira’s orders, everyone quickly cleared a large space for the two to fight.

Looking at the stance before him, Zaraki grinned, “You’re not bad.”

Akira nodded matter-of-factly, “Of course — who in Soul Society doesn’t know the reputation of me, Head Priest Akira Kisaragi? Want to follow me?”

Zaraki’s face twisted into a savage grin as he raised his jagged, fierce blade, pointing it forward, “Let’s fight first!”

The moment those words fell, the ground exploded in rings of dust. A demon-like figure burst forward in attack, the jagged blade suddenly raised and brought down mercilessly. Yet in Zaraki’s view, Akira hadn’t moved a single step from beginning to end, not even making a motion to draw his sword.

Under countless shocked gazes, that jagged blade struck directly at his shoulder.

Clang!

A resounding clang of metal against metal echoed through the air.

Everyone’s eyes widened, even Shunsui found it hard to believe.

Though he knew his junior possessed a powerful Spiritual Body with remarkable defense — being able to withstand the Old Man’s punches was one thing — taking a direct hit without Reiatsu defense seemed impossible.

Sajin even suspected that what stood before them wasn’t a Shinigami at all, but a monster wearing a Shinigami’s skin.

Such a powerful, unrestrained strike, yet it couldn’t break through his defense?!

“You can’t even cut properly, and you call yourself Kenpachi?” Akira’s smile appeared harmless, but to the others, his expression was even more terrifying than Zaraki’s.

Zaraki froze for a moment before his smile grew even more savage.

The first attack had been merely a test to gauge his opponent’s true strength, allowing him to unleash the appropriate power for a satisfying battle. This young man before him was far stronger than he’d imagined.

Now he could really enjoy himself!

A crimson point burst forth in his narrow pupils as a beast-like aura surged wildly. Zaraki swung his jagged blade again, now wreathed in golden Reiatsu, slashing straight forward.

Steel clashed, sparks flew, flames ignited.

This time, the full-power strike finally forced Akira to draw his sword to meet the attack.

The jagged blade rose like a hammer crashing down — no hint of swordsmanship, just pure bestial ferocity, like fangs and claws tearing at prey.

CLANG—

Blades collided, shock waves rippled outward, and a thunderous sound burst forth, sending visible ripples in all directions.

“This is the kind of battle I want! You’re not bad!” Zaraki’s delighted laugh rang out as golden Reiatsu exploded around him like flames.

Shunsui’s expression grew serious.

This self-proclaimed Kenpachi’s Reiatsu matched an average Captain’s, carrying a violent, aggressive nature. Though his technique lacked form, it radiated raw, powerful pressure.

He sensed that even other Captains might struggle against such an opponent.

The continuous blade trajectories formed a dazzling screen of light, sending countless sparks flying, their strikes moving faster than the onlookers could follow.

Zaraki had unleashed his full current strength.

Unlike Zaraki’s raw instinctive style, Akira’s swordsmanship was both elegant and devastatingly lethal. Through Genryūsai’s rigorous training, he had transformed his mastered techniques into pure instinct.

While Zaraki had merely scratched the surface of instinctive combat, Akira had ascended to its pinnacle.

This was true mastery of instinct, far beyond mere wild fighting!

⤫ Jigoku Kumo Wakatsu ⥤ Hellish Cloud Parting

! ⤬

⤫ Jigoku Gyaku Nami ⥤ Hellish Reverse Wave! ⤬

⤫ Jigoku Kage Satsujin ⥤ Hellish Shadow Murder! ⤬

⤫ Jigoku Tsuki Hakai ⥤ Hellish Moon Destruction! ⤬

⤫ Jigoku Akuma Kiri ⥤ Hellish Demon Cutter! ⤬

⤫ Jigoku Yami Setsudan ⥤ Hellish Darkness Severance! ⤬

The Death Slayer Style, born from the harsh teachings of the 1st Kenpachi, made its grand appearance before countless watching eyes!

The elegant yet brutal sword techniques tore savage wounds across Zaraki’s body. Flesh split open and blood gushed forth. The vast gulf in their mastery of instinct left him completely overwhelmed by Akira, unable to mount any defense.

Yet the pain only fueled Zaraki’s assault. Rather than faltering, the sight of his own blood ignited his ferocity, his attacks surging forth with renewed madness.

Zaraki laughed wildly, his bloody maw gaping like a beast’s, white teeth gleaming as his pupils filled with crimson, seeming to overflow with blood.

“This is the battle I’ve been yearning for!”

His skin began to crack from the sheer force he was exerting, blood seeping from countless fissures.

Seeing this, Akira frowned.

As someone intimately familiar with fighting at his limits, he immediately recognized Zaraki Kenpachi’s dangerous state. His body had taken on more power than it could handle and was beginning to break down.

If this continued, his newly gained subordinate would destroy himself.

It was well known that Zaraki, in his love of battle, had sealed his own power to savor combat. Through fighting, he could gradually grow stronger and unlock his true potential.

But removing too many seals at once would tear his body apart. Without a healer present, such collapse meant certain death.

To prevent Zaraki from dying from sheer excitement, Akira did something that left onlookers bewildered — he casually tossed aside his Zanpakutō.

There was no time to hesitate.

What came next was — Full power in peak condition!

⤫⤬⤫

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep