Chapter 78 – 78 ⥤ You’ve Mastered the Basics, Now Let’s Try Some Real Combat

Looking at the shirtless, white-bearded old man before him, Akira couldn’t help but feel nervous.

While others might not know much about Genryūsai’s background, Akira certainly did.

Though this old man wasn’t tall — barely reaching 1.7 meters even with shoes on — his body was pure muscle. No Shinigami had surpassed him in a thousand years; he was the undisputed top fighter in the Soul Society. Whether with sword, fist, or spells, he excelled at everything.

Facing this legendary warrior in a sparring match filled Akira with uncertainty.

With his current strength, Akira knew he’d be lucky to last even one round out of ten.

One punch from this ancient Shinigami would send him straight to the afterlife.

“In the Element Style, hesitation is our greatest enemy.” Genryūsai furrowed his brows and flexed his broad shoulders, his terrifying muscles rippling as an overwhelming presence swept forward, creating a suffocating pressure.

Even without releasing any Reiatsu, his mere presence gave the sensation of facing hell itself.

“Are you afraid?” He said in a deep voice, “When you face death directly, such emotions vanish!”

Without waiting for a response, Genryūsai’s massive hand thrust forward, coming straight down toward Akira’s head. A sonic boom rang out, accompanied by scorching wind.

Akira’s pupils contracted as his survival instincts screamed. That huge hand grew larger in his vision, consuming his entire world.

If he couldn’t block it, he’d die!

With no time to think, he entrusted his survival to instinct, instantly unleashing the Hakuda techniques he’d based from the Shihōin family.

⤫ Tenrin Reppū ⥤ Celestial Violent Wind Fist! ⤬

His fingers flexed, forming a fist, and as he shifted his stance, his lean fist broke through the air with a piercing sound, generating shockwaves as it shot toward that descending palm!

Boom!

As fist met palm, fierce winds howled and surged, the explosion-like sound making his eardrums ache.

His last Hakuda battle had been against Yoruichi. Though he lost, it wasn’t too bad.

Compared to then, Akira was now ten times stronger! In another close-quarters Hakuda battle with Yoruichi, he could even dominate her.

But this time, his opponent was Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto. That increase in strength meant nothing.

It was like mastering the basics of Go and confidently passing the beginner level, ready to face your first opponent — only to find yourself against AlphaGo.

Such an overwhelming gap in skill could crush anyone’s spirit.

{T/N: Time for knowledge! AlphaGo is an AI projected to play Go, a type of superpowerful buffed Checkers (Or else, Go for dumb people), who became so good at it that it defeated the 18 times World Champion Lee Sedol in a match. Now you can go on!}

Before Akira, raw power and speed merged with terrifying force techniques into a singular display of might.

Genryūsai’s muscles and sinews moved like grinding iron, radiating heat like a volcano ready to erupt.

Unlike the Shihōin family’s swift and varied Hakuda techniques, Genryūsai’s style was direct, his body concealing devastating power techniques.

As his five fingers spread, power like a volcano burst forth. A thunderous roar split the air as invisible shockwaves surged forward with crushing force.

Akira’s breath caught in his throat, his thoughts frozen as he faced this overwhelming enemy.

The shockwave struck the dojo floor, exploding violently and splitting the ground. With a series of sharp cracks, the solid floor burst open into a massive crater, like a dark maw waiting to swallow him whole.

Akira dodged the strike, his fighting spirit igniting as he glanced up.

Taking hits wasn’t his style. Even facing this insurmountable gap, he would give everything he had, determined to leave his mark on his opponent.

His heart pounded, his face flushed as power surged through him.

When Genryūsai attacked again, Akira didn’t dodge. With a fierce grin tugging at his mouth, he channeled every ounce of power from his Spiritual Body into a single forward punch.

The moment fist met palm, power vast as the ocean erupted between them.

That instant of collision taught Akira the meaning of true disparity. Power flooded his frame, the burning force coursing through every inch of flesh and bone.

His pupils contracted as memories flashed before his eyes — the struggle for survival in the Sakahone District, Nanao’s gentle smile, the solemn ceremony of becoming a Shrine Official, and that gentle yet terrifying black-haired Captain…

Was it all an illusion?

Akira drifted into a daze, numb to pain and detached from his body. His rigid eyes stared ahead as if watching from outside himself.

In that eternal moment, he watched the shiny bald head growing more distant, the gap between them widening.

He realized then — he was flying backward.

In complete silence, his feet left the shattered floor, tracing a graceful arc through the air.

With a bewildered expression, he sailed dozens of meters before crashing like a meteor at the dojo entrance, his body tumbling and flailing like a fish out of water.

When consciousness finally returned, pain wracked his entire body as if he’d been crushed by a stone roller countless times.

The agony was unbearable. Each breath was a struggle.

Having achieved his purpose, Genryūsai calmly withdrew his presence, donned his Shihakushō and captain’s haori, then strode to Akira’s side. He lifted him like a chick and carried him back into the dojo.

The entire process was fluid, as if rehearsed countless times.

“Don’t resist.” Genryūsai said casually, “Though my Kaidō isn’t as refined as Captain Unohana’s, it’s sufficient for your current injuries.”

His old, scarred hand pressed directly onto Akira’s chest, beginning a rather rough healing process.

The priest’s face had turned deathly pale.

Not from his injuries, but from pure shock — his mind blank, thoughts scattered.

The old man’s single Hakuda move had demonstrated the true meaning of disparity in skill.

Just like facing Unohana’s Death Sword Style — utterly helpless, a completely one-sided defeat.

Akira, who had been quietly proud of mastering a few Shihōin family secret techniques, now had only one thought.

As he recovered slightly, he looked up at that elderly, dignified face, tears gleaming in his eyes.

“Coach! I want to learn the Element Style!”

⤫⤬⤫

T/N: If you want more Chapters like this, check out my Patreon! I’m constantly translating and the difference will keep getting bigger!

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/mrblackwing

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep