Chapter 178 – 178 ⥤ The Correct Way to Use a Zanpakutō

A Zanpakutō is an instrument infused with the essence of a Shinigami’s soul, serving as more than just a combat tool.

Because of this profound connection, the training process for both Shikai and Bankai is intricate and demanding.

For a qualified Shinigami, mastery begins with recognizing their Zanpakutō through their Inner World, learning its true name through communication, and finally synchronizing with it to achieve Shikai.

Bankai, however, requires two additional steps: “Materialization” and “Submission”.

Materialization (Gushōka) involves summoning the Zanpakutō into the physical world — a process traditionally requiring over ten years of training. The Tenshintai was created specifically to accelerate this process.

The final, crucial step is defeating the materialized Zanpakutō to force its submission.

Kisuke and Mayuri watched intently, their eyes fixed on the unfolding scene.

In the Soul Society, Shinigami with Bankai potential were extraordinarily rare; those who mastered it earned their place in history and in the Shin’ō Academy’s textbooks.

Thus, every individual capable of using the Tenshintai provided precious experimental data.

As the Zanpakutō shattered, the Tenshintai broke apart with it. Yet rather than scattering, the fragments hung suspended in space as deep darkness emerged between them, forming what looked like a torn rift.

The rift resembled a Garganta, with viscous shadows seeping out like blood plasma from a ruptured heart, slowly staining the ground beneath.

The ink-black darkness spread ominously, eventually engulfing the entire Bakudō barrier.

Sensing danger, Kisuke and Mayuri retreated, leaving Akira alone inside. The Bankai training process demanded solitude — outside interference could disrupt the delicate process and trigger unwanted accidents.

Kisuke would stake his lord’s life that they weren’t fleeing just to watch Akira make a fool of himself.

A crushing pressure descended like an overturning ocean. The ground shook violently, with cracks spreading like writhing dragons. From the rift formed by the merged Tenshintai and Zanpakutō, an unprecedented surge of boundless heat erupted, hurling Akira several meters backward.

Seeing this, a flash of surprise crossed Kisuke’s eyes.

If this was its power before complete Materialization, how terrifying would its final form be? He secretly hoped this materialized Zanpakutō would give someone a thorough beating — a little revenge on his behalf.

As if granting his wish, the viscous shadows ceased their flow and rose from the ground, coalescing into a humanoid figure.

Unlike Kisuke’s Benihime, Akira’s materialized Kūkan Mukai was unremarkable — its appearance plain, its gender indistinguishable, devoid of any particular charm.

“Kūkan Mukai?” Akira leaned forward, attempting to establish a connection with his sword through words.

The moment his voice rang out, the shadow figure seemed to activate, its head snapping up as a rift tore open in the center of its face, revealing a magma-red scene within.

Woosh!

In an instant, it vanished.

Before anyone could comprehend what had happened, the shadow was already pressed against its master’s chest. Elbow strike!

Power erupted like a volcanic explosion. Akira’s vision went black as the impact struck him like a massive hammer, his internal organs shuddering violently as his body flew backward and crashed into a distant mountainside.

“Hey hey, isn’t that a bit too much?!” Kisuke’s face showed shock.

Having received countless death threats from Akira and experienced extensive combat with him, Kisuke knew his Captain’s strength intimately.

Even among the Gotei 13, his Lord Magistrate ranked among the strongest!

Even 3rd Division’s Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi, appointed only slightly before Akira, couldn’t withstand Zaraki’s attacks — yet that madman regularly endured the 11th Division Captain’s various forms of punishment.

Yet here was this powerful fighter, sent flying by a single elbow strike from his materialized Zanpakutō, utterly powerless to resist. The display was simply extraordinary.

Even Kisuke, who had been watching the Zanpakutō’s every move intently, couldn’t track its movement.

Kūkan Mukai reached down, drawing a blade from the ground’s shadows — completely black, longer than ordinary Zanpakutō, with an exceptional sharpness.

Without a word, it raised its hand and unleashed a black sword pressure slash. The air split apart with a high-pitched metallic shriek amid the rolling dust.

From the smoke, a hazy figure slowly emerged. Akira caught the sword pressure with one hand, his five fingers exerting force, instantly crushing it into countless Reishi fragments that scattered on the ground, merging into the endless shadows.

The materialized Kūkan Mukai proved far stronger than anticipated. Its Reiatsu and combat experience surpassed his own significantly. If not for his stat boosts, that previous strike would have collapsed his chest cavity.

Black and white faced each other in the sea of shadows, their fighting spirits rising like molten magma, radiating an irresistible heat.

The blade slashed — a technique inherited from Genryūsai — heading straight for Akira.

⤫ Ryōdan ⥤ Bisection! ⤬

Bang!

The blades collided mid-air, sending sparks flying.

⤫ Jigoku Kumo Wakatsu ⥤ Hellish Cloud Parting! ⤬

Akira spun away, countering with his Death Slayer Style. His blade danced across the black sword body, carving a gruesome gash into Kūkan Mukai’s elbow.

No blood flowed, no shadows leaked. The wound sealed instantly, as if it had never existed.

“This looks bad.” Kisuke said worriedly, “This materialized Zanpakutō is impossibly strong. At this rate, something unexpected might happen.”

Beside him, Mayuri sneered, “Though I know you’re worried about him, could you at least try hiding that smile while saying it?”

“Is it showing?” Kisuke touched his cheek.

Indeed, his grin stretched from ear to ear.

He couldn’t help it — it was pure instinct. After years of oppression under Akira, seeing him in trouble triggered an involuntary smile, almost like a conditioned reflex.

Yet the situation was genuinely dangerous. While failing to defeat the materialized Zanpakutō was one thing, being killed by it meant literally having to report to Hell.

The battle intensified, both sides unleashing dazzling and complex sword techniques that clashed like surging tides.

Being Akira’s own Zanpakutō, Kūkan Mukai matched his sword techniques perfectly — and wielded them with even greater refinement.

Before Akira could even raise his hand, his opponent had already swung their blade.

Kumo Wakatsu (Cloud Parting), Gyaku Nami (Reverse Wave), Tsuki Hakai (Moon Destruction), Ryōdan (Bisection) — the techniques flew in rapid succession.

Sword pressure and darkness intertwined as raw killing intent poured forth unrestrained, blade light scattering into brilliant radiance.

Slash—

Flesh tore in the shadows, hot blood spraying forth and staining the white haori.

Akira’s wrist trembled. Under Kūkan Mukai’s relentless assault, cracks spread across his Zanpakutō like spider webs. Meanwhile, his opponent’s shadow-forged blade remained flawless, its edge gleaming with deadly perfection.

“So you were hiding something from me?” Rage filled his voice as he confronted his Zanpakutō’s deception.

Though he rarely wielded it in battle, weren’t they partners who shared one heart? Shouldn’t there be trust between wielder and blade?

What was wrong with this world?!

Fury blazing, Akira hurled his Zanpakutō aside. He stripped off his tattered haori and tore open his Shihakushō, revealing his battle-scarred physique marked with fresh blood.

Kūkan Mukai’s vertical pupils tracked the discarded blade’s arc through the air, crimson light burning within them like concentrated rage.

Akira stretched his limbs and expelled the scorching breath from his lungs. Deep purple flames erupted across his body.

⤫ Mugen Murasaki Kaen Bakuha ⥤ Unbounded Purple Flame Burst! ⤬

Searing heat dispersed the shadows at his feet as a violent pillar of fire engulfed him, distorting the air like a miniature sun.

Watching this display, Kisuke’s teeth ached.

In the Soul Society’s million-year history, few Shinigami had achieved Akira’s level of spiritual purity.

The Zanpakutō had merely been his limiter. Now unleashed stood the true successor of the Genryū Style, Captain of the Combat Division—

Akira Kisaragi.

Boom!

White spiritual energy burst from his shoulder blades — materialized Kidō power from Yoruichi’s Shunkō technique.

The ground cratered beneath him as he exploded forward at impossible speed, closing on Kūkan Mukai’s shadow form with his fist cocked back.

⤫ Shunkō: Chōshinsei Nenshō ⥤ Flash War Cry: Supernova Burning! ⤬

Faced with such a violent attack, Kūkan Mukai could only raise the black blade to block the incoming fist.

A bone-chilling metallic clash echoed within the barrier. The devastating impact sent him flying, the humanoid shadow spinning through the air before stirring up clouds of dust across the horizon.

“I take back what I said earlier.” Kisuke said with a bitter expression, “That guy is the real monster.”

Kūkan Mukai lay powerless, his body disintegrating like a shadow sinking into a swamp. Akira remained vigilant, frowning as he watched the constantly bubbling black shadows.

Something was about to emerge.

The sound of scraping metal burst forth as delicate chain links rose from the shadows. Like a dark lake overflowing, countless chains shot out, instantly filling the entire Bakudō barrier.

But instead of attacking, the chains intertwined and wove around each other like Senjumaru’s needles crafting cloth, swiftly forming a body.

Kūkan Mukai had fully revived. Like a divine figure, he hovered in the sky, his lone eye coldly observing the burning figure below, as if etching that image into his soul.

Boom!

Their eyes met, and explosive attacks erupted like thunder and lightning.

Every technique inherited in the depths of Akira’s soul manifested through him.

Ikkotsu! Sōkotsu!

Celestial Crescent Sweep, Celestial Violent Wind Fist, Celestial Star Fire Kick, Supernova Burning, Element Synthesis…

Chain-wrapped fists crashed down. The air itself collapsed, carving deep marks into the rear mountain from the straight-line winds. An unprecedented pressure filled the space.

Akira breathed heavily, staring intently at his mirror image before him, a fierce smile tugging at his lips. Their fighting styles and techniques seemed cast from the same mold.

Though Kūkan Mukai lacked the enhancement of Traits, his vast Reiatsu and chain-forged body proved formidable enough to match Akira.

The battle between man and sword raged like two starved beasts, leaving only destruction in their wake.

Trenches, scorch marks, imprints, valleys — within moments, the rear mountain lay in ruins for dozens of kilometers, its mighty peak demolished.

Had Kisuke not reinforced the barrier in time, the battle’s reverberations would have reached the outside world.

⤫ Mugen Shirorai Kasoku ⥤ Unbounded White Lightning Acceleration ⤬

Electric arcs surged as Akira’s body exploded forward with lightning speed. His fist’s shadow howled, consuming everything in its path.

⤫ Genshiki-ryū: Shine ⥤ Origin Style: Die! ⤬

The magnificent display of visible spiritual waves bore down upon Kūkan Mukai as the air itself shattered.

BOOM!

A deafening explosion roared through the air!

Where the chains entangled, intense flames erupted, surging forward like a flood and consuming the final traces of darkness.

This was true, unbridled power!

With his Reiatsu now at Rank 2, the force far surpassed what he had unleashed against Baraggan.

The attack had to be effective. If this couldn’t affect Kūkan Mukai, Akira would abandon his Bankai training and seek other ways to harness his Zanpakutō’s power.

The body of black chains shattered instantly. Its links scattered with clear, ringing sounds — a chaotic melody in the air.

Then, a gentle white light appeared.

And the impact struck.

BAANG!

Devastating vibrations transformed the earth into a violent ocean. Rippling waves swept up everything in sight as rock layers churned and surged. The Bakudō barrier shattered instantly under the force of the aftershocks!

Kisuke couldn’t even curse as the approaching ripple patterns engulfed him. The impact struck like a sledgehammer to his organs, pain radiating through his entire body.

It felt exactly like taking one of Akira’s direct punches.

A massive mushroom cloud rose above the 11th Division’s grounds, drawing countless shocked stares. The newly built barracks groaned under the strain as metal walls warped and scorching winds howled past — as if heralding the world’s end.

When Kisuke finally rose from the dust and grime, he peered toward the explosion’s center and drew a sharp breath.

“Hiss…”

The 11th Division’s rear mountain had simply vanished, replaced by a vast crater that resembled a massive pot sunk into the Seireitei.

The landscape would never be the same.

And there, most striking of all, stood a charred figure in the crater’s center — unwavering as a stone monument…

⤫⤬⤫

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