True Goodness Is Born of Treasuring and Acting upon Every Tiny Detail

He who would do good to another must do it in Minute Particulars.

--William Blake, Jerusalem (1804-1810)

In the dark space, those tiny specks of light still drifted.

Sylvan stood in that boundless darkness, with no ground beneath his feet and no sky above him, only an eye composed of countless images and points of light before him.

"Rook, what exactly do you want to tell me?" Sylvan reached out and touched the enormous eye. A speck of light drifted down, and the scene instantly unfolded:

A child, about four or five years old, squatted by the stream. His yukata was still covered with grass clippings. His thin fingers were tightly gripping a stone. His shoulders were trembling, and his cries were intermittent, as if he had been crying for a long time and was exhausted.

Sylvan guessed that this was the child the old man had mentioned earlier, the child who had been extradited from the World of the Living to Peony Mountain more than half a month ago.

The second scene unfolds:

In the dead of night, moonlight filtered through the layered canopy of trees on Peony Mountain, casting dappled patterns of silver light. Several men, carrying torches, searched anxiously along the mountain path. Some called out the child's name, while others examined every stream and crevice in the rocks with their torches. Their faces were filled with anxiety and self-reproach.

That anxious feeling, conveyed through the visuals, could even affect Sylvan.

The third scene unfolds.

At the mountaintop, Rook held the child, watching the sun gradually rise from the sea of clouds. The warmth of the sunlight dispelled the child's fear. After Rook put the child down, the child turned back and said, "Thank you. You are truly a gentle Mountain God."

The scene fades to a darker image of the child walking down the mountain with his back to Rook, but Sylvan still looks puzzled. "Rook, what does this mean? Why are you showing me this?"

One by one, points of light floated out from the giant eye, magnifying around Sylvan:

An old man on the hillside, his bamboo cane touching the ground, walked slowly. A young couple beside him each supported one of his arms. The three of them walked and chatted. A faint smile appeared on the old man's face, and the two young people also smiled contentedly. The wind blew through the bamboo forest, and the hems of their clothes fluttered gently.

A young man carrying a medicine basket, overflowing with herbs, leaves and roots spilling from the opening, hummed an off-key tune as he slowly walked along the mountain path. Sunlight fell on his back, gilding the herbs in the basket with a fuzzy golden edge.

An uncle who was herding several goats sat down on a tree stump to rest. He took out half a dry biscuit from his pocket, broke it into pieces, and gave them to the goats at his feet, whistling.

A young woman squatted by the stream washing freshly dug herbs, chatting with another woman washing clothes nearby.

The images became more numerous and denser, as if placing Sylvan within a giant screen pieced together from countless beings of Peony Mountain.

Sylvan stood in the center of the sea of light formed by countless images, looking at those scenes that were so ordinary that they couldn't be more commonplace. Each scene was so ordinary that similar scenes could be seen in any corner of the world. The various noises in the scenes gave Sylvan a headache.

Ah!

What is the meaning of these images? What are you trying to tell me? Sylvan kept tapping the darkness beneath his feet with his cane. Before he collapsed and fell into this space, he vaguely saw that Oren and Rain had been defeated, and only Marechiyo Ōmaeda and Gegetsuburi were back to back fighting against the Tenken.

Don't be fooled by the fact that Tenken's Bankai — Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō— is quite simple compared to the other captains' Bankai; it merely summons a giant Wisdom King True Form.

However, this body possesses genuine Captain-level combat power, acting like a massive city wall capable of blocking almost all Soul Reaper whose Reiatsu doesn't reach Captain-level, leaving no possibility of cheating. This is extremely disadvantageous for Marechiyo Ōmaeda.

This made Sylvan very anxious. His consciousness was trapped here, so in reality, he could not only not help, but might also distract Marechiyo Ōmaeda.

"Please, Rook, if you have anything to tell me, let's talk about it back in Seireitei. The situation outside is very critical. Let me out now!" Sylvan pushed aside the images surrounding him and shouted at the giant eye.

However, the eye remained unmoved, and the surroundings remained dark. The only response was another point of light floating out from the eye.

Sylvan sighed, rubbing his forehead. "What is it this time?"

"Soul Reaper is a powerful being." Cilian's voice came from the screen, and the incredibly familiar voice made Sylvan look up.

The scene before him was the second day Shikai he Zanpakuto; he hadn't forgotten what Cilian had said back then—that power was the reason to become Soul Reaper.

But it was clear that Rook wanted to tell him something else.

"... Jiku'a responded to you not because you wanted to be the Soul Reaper, but because you had things you wanted to do, people you wanted to save, and tragedies you wanted to change..."

Rook spoke loudly about Cilian, and softly about the others.

This made Sylvan feel something loosening in his chest, like a valve that had been rusted for too long being slowly turned open.

All the images, all the sounds, all the shining and dim moments of those ordinary days, took on a slightly different flavor under Cilian's words.

Another point of light fell, and this time Kenpachi's voice came down. "Is fighting a painful thing?"

The voice of the Mōcāng came from the screen. "You are not Vergil... You cannot... bear such dark memories!"

"No! That's not right!" Sylvan once again denied the Mōcāng's earlier viewpoint, "Vergil also has a vulnerable side; something sustained him and helped him through those pains."

Sylvan answered himself, "It's those memories with my family that sustain me!"

"So that's how it is!" Sylvan finally understood what Rook was trying to convey and looked at the images surrounding him; the sounds in the images were no longer noisy.

"These seemingly peaceful daily routines are like Vergil's and his family's memories, the spiritual pillars that supported them through their hardships. I cannot protect everyone forever, but at least I can create a safe haven where they can create enough memories to sustain them throughout their lives."

Sylvan closed his eyes amidst the sea of light formed by the images. "Rook, your power comes from that heart that wants to protect all that is good, from Amber's ambition to change all tragedies, from the original aspiration that I, Rain, and Oren have all forgotten."

"No wonder I can't connect with your Soul Link," Sylvan said with a hint of self-deprecation. "If my mind is full of my own affairs, I can't connect with you!"

He had always thought that what Rook received was Reiatsu, power. Only now did he realize that what Rook received was never just power, or rather, power was just the most superficial thing.

Sylvan opened his eyes, and the sea of light began to surge. All the points of light converged once again into that giant eye, which now floated silently.

"Rook."

Sylvan reached out, and the moment he touched her, a warm current surged into his palm, like water melting ice, flowing from his fingertips over his wrist, down his bones to his shoulders, chest, and spine.

He could clearly feel that the previously blocked circuits became unobstructed under the infusion of Reiatsu.

Light began to seep out of the darkness beneath their feet—one beam, two beams, countless beams—rising from the ground like rays of light shining through cracks, illuminating the entire space.

He was in the narrow room that represented his Inner World, and now the door had been opened. Sylvan came out of the room and onto the street, and everything before him suddenly became clear.

What blocked the end of the street wasn't a wall, but the roots of the Demon World Tree. Sylvan stood on the ground, gazing up at the tree's unreachable canopy—the very spot where Amber had once stood.

Now, the four enormous tree roots that divided the ground into four sections began to writhe again. Sylvan stood at the boundary between his area and the Rook area, watching the tree roots on that boundary slowly sink and disappear into the ground.

The scene opposite revealed itself to be Ikkaku that had once been invaded by the Beast of Light. As Beowulf Armament truly transformed into the power of amber, this place's appearance was also fixed within the landscape of the Magic Tower.

The four areas recombined, and the Reiatsu of Rain, Oren, Rook, and Sylvan resonated and merged, causing their Inner Worlds to tremble continuously.

Reality: Peony Mountain.

The giant fist of the Tenken Wisdom King slammed down again. The Gegetsuburi and Marechiyo Ōmaeda barely managed to block it with their combined efforts. The Gegetsuburi's Meteor Hammer struck the Wisdom King's fist, only sending up a string of sparks. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Marechiyo Ōmaeda cut in from the side and delivered a heavy blow to the Wisdom King's knee.

"Thump--!"

Wisdom King only staggered slightly, while Marechiyo Ōmaeda, blood staining the hammer handle. "A strike aimed at a reactionary attack, and this is all it can do!"

"Hanatarō!"

"Yes!"

Hanatarō charged up from behind, his knife piercing Marechiyo Ōmaeda's shoulder. Pale red energy gradually filled the energy bar, Marechiyo Ōmaeda's exhausted muscles regained vitality, and the torn wound healed at a visible speed.

"Load it up, Red Hisagomaru!"

A crimson energy slash immediately struck the Wisdom King, hitting him squarely in the face and leaving a huge scorch mark on the Wisdom King's chest armor.

"Idiot, aim for the joints..." Marechiyo Ōmaeda panted, speechless at Hanatarō's attacks. He had been trying his best to create openings, but Hanatarō just couldn't seize the opportunity.

"Marechiyo Ōmaeda Lieutenant Ōmaeda, watch out!" Hisagomaru shouted when he saw Tenken Wisdom King's movements were not right.

The great sword that had been hanging motionless at the waist of the Wisdom King was finally drawn!

The Wisdom King drew his broadsword from his waist; the blade was as wide as a door panel and as long as a pillar, its spine so thick it was suffocating.

Unexpectedly, the slash that cut from Wisdom King's waist, carrying a fierce shockwave and sword pressure, was aimed at Hanatarō.

"Hanatarō!"

Marechiyo Ōmaeda rushed forward, using his body to push aside Hanatarō, with Gegetsuburi following closely behind, his two Meteor Hammers crossed in front of him, trying to block the slash.

The moment the blade collided with the Meteor Hammer, both Meteor Hammers emitted a mournful cry.

"This is completely different from before, we're in trouble! We have to protect Marechiyo!"

Gegetsuburi stepped forward, blocking Marechiyo Ōmaeda and facing the Tenken Blade directly. Spiderweb-like cracks began to appear on the surface of his Spirit Body.

"Gegetsuburi!"

Even though the Gegetsuburi sacrificed himself, Marechiyo Ōmaeda was still pressed into the ground by the sword, his body plowing a deep pit in the ground, blood gushing from his mouth and nose at the same time, his body completely unresponsive.

"Lieutenant Marechiyo Ōmaeda!" Hanatarō rushed forward, and this time, Hisagomaru Zanpakuto into Marechiyo Ōmaeda.

The energy bar is full again.

"Load it up, Red Hisagomaru!"

An energy cannon shot out, and Wisdom King raised his sword, using the blade to block the frontal impact of the energy cannon. The crimson energy cannon exploded on the blade.

Hanatarō gritted his teeth and activated his Zanpakuto, unleashing two more red slashes. However, Wisdom King simply deflected the blade, deflecting the two slashes to the sides.

Hanatarō's lack of combat experience was a major weakness; without someone to coordinate with him, his attacks were completely ineffective against Tenken, who had Tenken alongside Komamura countless times.

As for Marechiyo Ōmaeda, his injuries were too severe. Even after being absorbed twice by Hisagomaru and Hanatarō, the broken bones and shattered internal organs were not completely eliminated, and he no longer had the strength to get up.

Wisdom King raised his greatsword high, the tip aimed at Hanatarō's chest. If that blade fell, Hanatarō would have no chance of survival.

"Hanatarō... go quickly..." Marechiyo Ōmaeda raised his hand with his last bit of strength.

"Lieutenant Marechiyo Ōmaeda, please don't underestimate me. When have you ever seen a member of the Fourth Division abandon the wounded and retreat? I also have honor to defend."

Hanatarō drew his sword and stood in a defensive stance in front of Marechiyo Ōmaeda, even though he knew it was pointless.

The Tenken Wisdom King's greatsword cleaved down from mid-air, its massive blade resembling a collapsed city gate, the cold light emanating from its edge turning both men's faces deathly pale.

"Boom--!"

As the sword fell, Hanatarō closed his eyes and accepted his impending death, but felt no pain.

He looked up and saw a huge purple eye hovering above his head. The King of Wisdom King's greatsword struck the eye as if it were hitting an indestructible wall.

Before Hanatarō could even be surprised, a strong Reiatsu emanated from him, and a white-haired figure slowly walked past Hanatarō and Marechiyo Ōmaeda.

"I'm sorry to have put you in such a difficult situation. Leave the rest to me."

The speaker was Sylvan, who had just woken up. His hair had turned white, and the cane he held in his right hand had transformed into a jet-black one-handed knight's longsword.

The longsword was adorned with flowing, pale blue light patterns, and the ancient inscriptions on its spine shone faintly in the light.

"Rook!"

As soon as Sylvan finished speaking, the eye in the sky burst forth with purple light, and dark purple particles surged from the ground, gathering like a spring beneath the eye.

The particles stacked, accumulated, and shaped layer by layer. Arms stretched out from the particles, muscles taut in the light, and Rook's body reformed.

This time, it is taller, more majestic, and more complete than before.

A black body rose from the ground, its texture more intricate and solid than before. Purple light flowed between each joint, forming an "R". Its body grew to half the height of the Tenken Wisdom King, and its strength was so great that it could parry the Wisdom King's great sword with a single arm.

Particles simultaneously erupted from the tattoos on Sylvan's arms.

"Oren!"

Black and red particles landed and formed Oren's shape. This Oren was closer to a tiger than a leopard. The red stripes on its streamlined body were more intricate, and its size was also larger. Its four paws landed, and a black and red ripple spread across the ground.

Blue-Violet particles erupted from Sylvan's other arm, and Rain spread her wings and took to the air. This time, her feathers not only had bright patterns, but also a very faint metallic texture. The edges of each feather shimmered with a fine silver light, like flowing liquid metal in the sunlight.

Sylvan stood between the three beasts, his white hair fluttering in the wind. He twirled the Blade of Power, its tip aimed at the Wisdom King.

Rook charged forward first, his massive body cracking the rocky platform as he sprinted. His enormous fist slammed into Wisdom King's greatsword, the collision of blade and fist producing a deafening roar. Wisdom King was pushed back a step by the punch.

Oren cut in from the side, the black and red blade tail slashing towards the Wisdom King's knee. This time, the cut didn't just leave a shallow mark on the armor; the blade tail sliced through the armor, revealing the Wisdom King's orange-red skin underneath.

Rain circled at the highest point, constantly gathering points of Kidō light between his wings. These points of light rained down on the Wisdom King's head and shoulder armor, each one exploding with several times the power of the previous one.

Wisdom King tried to raise his hand to defend himself, but Rook broke it off, and Oren cut numerous wounds into his legs, making it impossible for him to support his enormous size. He was forced to kneel on the ground.

Oren flung Sylvan with his tail, sending him swiftly aboard Rook's body. Sylvan then rode up Rook's arm toward the head of the Wisdom King. Rain swooped down, his claws grazing the Blade of Power in Sylvan's hand, and a purple flame flared from the sword.

With a swift movement, a purple, burning blade mark appeared on the neck of the Wisdom King. Sylvan landed gracefully on the ground, and the head of the Tenken Wisdom King also fell to the ground with a thud. His body disintegrated, turning into an Asauchi broken in two.