Chapter 269 – 269 ⥤ The Authority Dog and the Cheat Dog

T/N: Small correction, they are currently in the Soul King Palace Front Approach (Reiōkyū Omotesandō), not in Ichibē’s city as I had thought. Sorry for the inconvenience.

⤫⤬⤫

The monk emerged from the rolling dust clouds, his pristine appearance now marred.

Deep cracks and bleeding wounds marked his massive palm, the flesh torn where the punch had broken through his defenses. Reiatsu flooded the area as his grotesque injuries healed instantly.

The monk looked up at the figure in the sky, his thick beard masking his expression.

“As expected of Shigekuni’s disciple. The student has indeed surpassed the master.”

Akira flashed a fierce grin, “Name-dropping won’t save you from a beating. Stop stalling and fight!”

The monk paused briefly, his lips curving into an appreciative smile.

Such fighting spirit in the young was refreshing. This stagnant world needed more fresh blood like Akira.

He had begun to grasp the Soul King’s intentions. Perhaps this battle would confirm his suspicions.

In the sky above, Akira’s muscles rippled like water as black-red flames blazed around his body, raising the temperature in Omotesandō beyond what ordinary Shinigami could endure.

“Oh? Engraving Kidō patterns into your body to enhance your abilities and unleash Hadō with every movement. What an insane technique — was this also Shigekuni Yamamoto’s teaching?”

As a being who had lived for a million years, Ichibē saw through his technique instantly.

“Hadō #90: Kurohitsugi, Hadō #91: Senju Kōten Taihō, Hadō #96: Ittō Kasō…” The monk clicked his tongue, “Aren’t you concerned about the Kidō detonating inside you if the engraving fails?”

As he spoke, scorching winds rose from the ground like erupting magma. Through the raging heat, a black fist pierced the monk’s Reiatsu, driving straight for his abdomen.

Bang!!

A heavy impact exploded in the sky above Omotesandō, sending white shockwaves in all directions.

This clash of raw power ended in a stalemate.

“Akira, don’t underestimate this old monk.” The monk laughed heartily, “Remember what I said before? After becoming a member of the Zero Division, one can construct an entirely new body using the Soul King’s power. When it comes to pure physical strength, this old monk won’t lose to anyone in this world!”

Feeling the overwhelming force transmitted through his fist, Akira’s face lit up with undisguised excitement.

It had been a long time since anyone could match him in hand-to-hand combat — not even the old man could.

Though Genryūsai had invented powerful Hakuda techniques like Ikkotsu and Sōkotsu, he remained a traditional Shinigami who focused his skill on his Zanpakutō. Even wielding Ryūjin Jakka, he might not be Akira’s match, let alone in bare-handed combat.

Currently, only this man — Ichibē Hyōsube, number one of the Sangai and leader of the Zero Division — could compete with him in Hakuda.

Akira took a deep breath as his wrist slowly twisted, producing a sound like grinding metal, as if turning an invisible gate. The surrounding air groaned and shattered under the pressure of concentrated Reiryoku.

“Take this—”

⤫ Genshiki-ryū: Kyojin Ryū Inseki Shōgeki ⥤ Origin Style: Titan Dragon Meteor Impact! ⤬

Countless fist shadows exploded forth as the two figures clashed in intense combat, thunderous explosions reverberating across Omotesandō.

Feeling the tsunami-like impact, the monk’s expression hardened, losing its earlier relaxed demeanor.

Though his body was constructed with the Soul King’s power, its strength and durability weren’t much greater than Akira’s — they might even be slightly inferior.

Could this kid possess more than just this one power?

With this thought, the monk unleashed his Reiatsu again. His arms, thick as stone pillars, bulged with veins as tangible light concentrated before his palm.

A giant hand expanded infinitely in the dome above, instantly engulfing Akira’s figure until he looked as small as an ant.

⤫ Senri Tsūtenshō ⥤ Heavenly Passing Palm of the Thousand Ri! ⤬

A muffled thunderclap rang out as surging power fully erupted.

Seeing his opponent getting serious, Akira prepared to reveal his trump card.

⤫ Shunkō: Hakaishin Senkei ⥤ Flash War Cry: God of Destruction Battle Form! ⤬

Boom!!

At his shoulders, lightning and fire intertwined to form blazing wings that stretched to their limit as heat waves surged continuously.

Arms pulled back slightly, Akira’s lips curved upward as wisps of white vapor escaped between his grim teeth. Facing the hurricane-force Senri Tsūtenshō, he showed no fear as his fists shot out like cannons.

⤫ Genshiki-ryū: Sōkūhaku Hakai ⥤ Origin Style: Double Empty Destruction! ⤬

Boom—

A Reishi storm soared skyward as brilliant explosion light rippled outward.

Countless Reishi points burst forth as the giant palm shattered like dead trees before a storm!

“Hmm…” Watching the spectacular battle scene with its excessive special effects, Senjumaru let out a helpless sigh.

She had thought she’d lost by a small margin, but this kid hadn’t even used a tenth of his power. Even if she released the Blood Oath Seal, she probably still wouldn’t be his match.

Senjumaru’s red lips pressed together as a trace of unwillingness crossed her pale face.

Damn it, was there really no chance for a comeback?

Seeing his Senri Tsūtenshō shattered by those two fists, Ichibē’s eyes lit up with excitement as he stared intently at the distant figure.

What tremendous power, what overwhelming strength! Only an opponent like this was worthy of his full effort!

Branch-like markings appeared on the monk’s arms as he unleashed all the Soul King’s power contained in the Ōken (King’s Key).

His massive muscular figure vanished, reappearing behind Akira as he swung his large hand, unleashing chains glowing with golden light.

⤫ Bakudō #63: Sajō Sabaku ⥤ Locking Bondage Stripes! ⤬

A million years of existence had honed Ichibē’s skills to perfection. He could cast high-level Kidō effortlessly.

The chains coiled around Akira like giant pythons but instantly melted against his Shunkō wings, dissolving into Reishi.

Though harmless, the chains had served their purpose — creating that crucial moment of delay.

The monk’s lips curved into a victorious smile as his fingers closed together, materializing a giant brush in his palm.

Young people should taste defeat more often.

The giant brush swept down in a horizontal slash. Trapped by the binding spell, Akira couldn’t dodge. The air tore like fabric as black ink droplets scattered like rain.

Strangely, the strike left only an ink mark on Akira’s outer haori, causing no visible damage.

“It’s over.” Ichibē swung the giant brush and smiled, “This is my Zanpakutō, Ichimonji — the Straight Line. It cuts names, not flesh. Anything struck by this brush loses half its name, and thus half its power. Do you feel your powerlessness now?”

He expected Akira to crumble, to bow his head and join the Zero Division in defeat.

Instead, a fierce demon-like grin spread across his opponent’s face.

“What are you talking about?!”

His right arm stretched to its limit as black and red patterns intertwined, branch-like markings emerging across his skin.

⤫ Blut Rüstungswandel ⥤ Dynamic Blood Armor! ⤬

{T/N: Here he is using Blut Vene and Arterie simultaneously, which is a power granted by the Schrift. However, he is not using the complete Schrift itself, as that would cause the world’s power to assist him.}

His fingers clenched into a burning fist that shot forward.

An all-out attack, unleashed without mercy!

Scorching winds erupted as millions of electrical arcs thundered from Akira’s fist, extending dozens of kilometers and splitting the sky above Omotesandō.

Ichibē was hurled backward, launched from the Soul King Palace entrance toward the Inner Court.

The sky fractured, leaving a deep chasm. His thick arm was charred black, twisted grotesquely, and trembling. His white haori was riddled with burn marks — a devastating sight.

Gone was his earlier confidence, his rugged face now etched with disbelief. The other observers wore equally shocked expressions.

“How can he still be this powerful after losing half his strength? Is this kid some kind of monster?!”

Tenjirō’s expression was inscrutable.

“Perhaps Ichimonji’s ability simply doesn’t affect him.”

As they stood dumbfounded, a peculiar figure burst onto the scene — a man with black punk curls and sunglasses, looking decidedly out of place.

Zero Division 3rd Officer, Divine General of the West, God of the Sword, Ōetsu Nimaiya.

Upon hearing his speculation, Tenjirō and Senjumaru’s expressions turned to astonishment.

“Ignoring Ichimonji’s ability… Are there really such people in this world?”

Ōetsu grinned, showing a row of neat white teeth, “Hey, let’s keep watching and find out, shall we?”

The monk’s eyes widened as he stared fixedly at the figure above.

A chill ran down his spine.

As the person directly involved, no one knew better than him what had just happened. Ichimonji had definitely struck that monster — there was no doubt about that — but why hadn’t the power that should have been erased diminished at all?!

The monk gripped the giant brush tightly, his expression complex.

“No time for mourning.” Akira closed in for the kill, disrupting Ichibē’s thoughts. A fierce smile appeared as his right arm stretched out with the sound of a bowstring being drawn, “Because next up is the one whose wisdom astounds all Sangai!”

⤫ Genshiki-ryū: Mugen Kūhaku Hakai ⥤ Origin Style: Infinite Void Annihilation! ⤬

Seeing his fierce momentum, Ichibē gathered his thoughts and faced him with a grave expression.

At this moment, he had acknowledged Akira as an equal. Not a trace of contempt remained.

He had wanted to see just how many powers this man had mastered, but now it was better to win this battle first. After all, he was a being who had lived for a million years, the leader of Zero Division, guardian of the Soul King — he couldn’t fall here.

“Blacken…”

⤫ Shikai: Ichimonji ⥤ Initial Release: Straight Line! ⤬

Ink dripped from the brush tip as the sharp white blade and black brush tip alternated. The monk swung Ichimonji, scattering countless ink drops skyward.

Since the rules didn’t apply, he would end this battle with pure power.

Seeing the monk release his Zanpakutō, Akira thought for a moment and drew his own as well.

A silver flash — the blades crossed with a metallic ring. They clashed again in full force, their collision waves spreading across the sky, forming circles of white surges that bloomed like fireworks.

What surprised the monk was that after Kūkan Mukai and Ichimonji first made contact, his opponent’s slash suddenly weakened, as if reduced.

Akira seemed to realize this too. With a sneer, he said, “Heh, a Zanpakutō isn’t such an inconvenient thing!”

Under the monk’s astonished gaze, he casually threw his sword — its silver gleam embedding into Omotesandō below — then tore open his Shihakushō with both hands, revealing a perfectly muscled physique. Branch-like patterns emerged across his skin.

The monk narrowed his eyes at this sight.

A Shinigami who had mastered the Quincy’s exclusive ability. How unexpected indeed.

Looking at the slightly trembling Zanpakutō stuck not far ahead, Tenjirō’s mouth twitched, “Why do I feel like this Zanpakutō is expressing different emotions? What do you think, Ōetsu?—Wait, Ōetsu, why are you crying?!”

Beneath the sunglasses, two clear tears rolled down his resolute face.

Ōetsu reached out to wipe away the tears, but couldn’t dry them no matter how he tried. His choked voice revealed the reason, “I heard that Zanpakutō’s wail and its terribly pathetic life as a sword. It’s hard to imagine there would be a Shinigami who would treat their Zanpakutō like this!”

Tenjirō and Senjumaru looked at each other, bewildered by what they had witnessed.

BOOM!!

The monk was sent flying again, his robust figure smashing through Omotesandō’s ground, revealing the endless blue sky below.

It was clear now — authority couldn’t overcome raw power. Akira’s overwhelming strength had simply eclipsed the monk’s abilities.

Like a blazing meteor with its fiery tail, Akira streaked across the heavens, closing in on the falling Ichibē.

Before the monk’s disbelieving eyes, a white bone mask materialized on Akira’s face as a demonic, synthesized voice echoed:

⤫ Genshiki-ryū: Shunsen Senren ⥤ Origin Style: Instantaneous Thousand Strikes! ⤬

The burning figure dissolved into countless afterimages, weaving through the zenith as a barrage of savage attacks descended. A torrent of black and red energy erupted, sending massive waves surging in all directions.

With a final devastating uppercut, the monk was launched skyward once more, crashing back into Omotesandō as the aftermath reduced everything to ruins.

Amid the devastation, the monk struggled to right himself, his Reiatsu surging as it mended his battered body.

He had contemplated sacrificing Soul Society for his ultimate technique, but meeting Akira’s gaze reminded him — this was merely a test.

The situation was humbling enough. Who knew what catastrophe might unfold if they continued?

With this thought, the monk shook his head and offered the young man a genuine grin:

“That was quite an extraordinary battle. I admit defeat. You pass…”

⤫⤬⤫

T/N: If you want more Chapters like this, check out my Patreon! Take a look at my other translations too, you might like them!

For just $1.50 you can access all the extra content, and descriptive images, costs only $2!

That’s it and happy reading! (-‿◦)

/collection/856663

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep