The Meat Grinder Battlefield: Not Enough Shinigami

The moment Siwei Yan stepped out of the Senkaimon, a thick, pungent stench slammed into his nostrils.

Burnt wood mixed with dust kicked up from repeatedly trampled soil, along with an even more unpleasant, rust-like tang of blood.

His ears were instantly flooded with sound: the piercing screech of clashing metal, the incoherent screams of dying men, the dull pounding of war drums, and the roars and battle cries of countless people.

He steadied himself and swiftly surveyed his surroundings.

They had arrived on a battlefield.

Either the Senkaimon's coordinates had not deliberately avoided it, or the battlefield was simply so vast that the gate had opened right at its edge.

As far as the eye could see stretched a wilderness trampled beyond recognition.

Broken banners, damaged armor, arrows buried deep in the mud, and even more black, unidentifiable lumps lay scattered across the ground.

Figures crashed into one another madly across the battlefield. Blades flashed beneath the faint early morning light, every strike carrying unmistakable killing intent.

Among the human soldiers locked in battle, bewildered souls slowly emerged from beside fallen bodies.

A faintly glowing chain connected each soul's chest to the corpse on the ground.

But those chains were incredibly fragile. Often, the moment a soul floated only a short distance upward, the chain snapped on its own with a sharp crack.

Then those souls, their faces still bearing the savagery or terror of their final moments, would turn and see the souls of the enemy soldiers who had just killed them—and hurl themselves at them again without hesitation!

Both sides continued grappling and tearing at each other, carrying on their "battle" in an even crazier fashion than they had while alive.

During his internship, Yan Si had performed Soul Burial missions as well, but he had mostly dealt with relatively peaceful souls lingering in the Human World. When had he ever seen souls who had just died, their resentment soaring to the heavens, immediately "resuming the fight" on the spot?

"Everyone! Begin Soul Burial guidance immediately! Don't let them keep fighting! Once their resentment accumulates, they'll quickly fall into Hollows!"

Shiba Kaien, Third Seat of the Thirteenth Division, called out across the battlefield. His loud voice overwhelmed part of the din as he issued rapid orders with a grave expression.

"Yes!"

The Shinigami of the Thirteenth Division answered in unison, swiftly spreading out with practiced efficiency. In groups of three or five, they rushed toward the areas where the souls were fighting most fiercely.

Ashido stood beside Yan Si.

The Eleventh Division's vice-captain remained motionless, his calm gaze sweeping over the entire battlefield as though he had not noticed the Thirteenth Division's frantic activity.

Yan Si looked at him in confusion. "Vice-Captain Ashido, aren't you going to help guide them? It looks like they're severely short-handed."

At that, Ashido calmly raised his right hand and pointed toward the distant sky over the battlefield, shrouded in faint smoke and the stench of blood.

Yan Si followed the direction of his finger.

At the edge of the battlefield, the previously calm air would occasionally twist without warning, splitting open into irregular black cracks.

Chaotic Reiatsu fluctuations seeped from those cracks. Then, one after another, grotesquely shaped monsters with pale masks covering their faces struggled out of them.

Hollows.

Monsters formed from fallen souls, feeding on other souls.

They came in all manner of bizarre forms. Some resembled enlarged insects, some twisted beasts, while others were simply writhing heaps of rotten mud. Only those identical masks revealed their true nature.

The moment they appeared, they were drawn by the dense spiritual presence and negative emotions below. With shrill or low howls, they lunged toward the areas packed with souls.

Ashido lowered his hand, his voice as level as ever.

"The Eleventh Division's mission is to eliminate these Hollows, stop them from devouring souls, and prevent the chaos from spreading."

The instant he finished speaking, a white figure shot past him!

"Hahaha! They're here, they're here! First come, first served!"

Kurayashiki Kenpachi's hearty laughter exploded across the battlefield.

He did not even draw his Zanpakutō. He charged straight into a small group of newly emerged Hollows, Reiatsu roaring around his fist as one punch blasted a Hollow attempting to pounce on a soul into scattered Reishi!

"Captain! Wait for us!"

"Charge! Whoever kills the fewest is buying the whole division drinks tonight!"

"Bullshit! You're definitely the one paying!"

Seeing this, the Eleventh Division members howled, brandishing their Zanpakutō as they raced to be the first to reach the Hollows appearing all around.

There was not the slightest sympathy or discomfort in their eyes at the battlefield's misery—only the excitement of finding "prey" and the competitive urge to compare their kills.

To them, this was the best kind of "mission."

Ashido watched his subordinates rush away, silently lowering the hand he had originally raised to command them. His expression seemed to grow a little colder.

Yan Si looked at him. "You're not going?"

Ashido turned around, his calm, unreadable eyes settling on Yan Si. "My mission this time is to watch you."

He paused, then added, "Captain Kurayashiki's order: ensure the safety of Fifth Seat Yan Si of the Ninth Division during his 'field research' and avoid unnecessary casualties."

There was little emotion in his tone, but Yan Si keenly sensed the dissatisfaction hidden beneath it.

"Although I don't really understand why someone who is a Fifth Seat of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads needs dedicated protection in a situation like this."

Ashido continued, speaking bluntly. "But since it is an order, I will obey."

His implication was obvious: if even a Fifth Seat needed a vice-captain assigned as a bodyguard, what about ordinary Division Members?

This arrangement not only wasted the Eleventh Division's combat strength, but was also somewhat insulting. At least, that was how Ashido saw it.

Yan Si was actually a little surprised.

He truly had not expected Kurayashiki Kenpachi, that seemingly carefree battle maniac, to make such a meticulous arrangement.

Was he afraid something would really happen to this "frail author," or was there some other reason?

Honestly, while the situation was chaotic, Yan Si had more than enough ability to protect himself.

Making him stand here and watch, with a vice-captain "supervising" him at his side, made even him feel a little embarrassed. It was far too wasteful of their combat strength.

After thinking it over, he neither explained nor argued.

He merely raised his right hand calmly, extending his index finger toward a spot not far to his front-right.

There, the soul of a soldier who had just "strangled" an enemy soul with his spiritual arms raised his head. A meaningless rasp came from his throat, and his mouth slowly opened.

It looked as though he was about to spew out some grayish-white substance—a sign that he was about to fall into a Hollow.

Yan Si's lips moved slightly, his voice soft.

"Way of Destruction Number Four: White Ray."

A slender yet incomparably condensed silver-white bolt of lightning burst from his fingertip, slicing through the air with a faint crackle and piercing straight through the soldier soul's head.

The soul's movements abruptly froze, the savage expression on his face solidifying. Then his entire spiritual body turned into specks of light and swiftly dissipated into the air.

There had been no lengthy incantation, no buildup—everything happened as naturally and swiftly as breathing.

Beside him, Ashido's eyebrow twitched.

He turned back to Yan Si. "An incantationless White Ray with this kind of power and speed."

"It seems you truly have enough ability to protect yourself. With this level of Kidō mastery, you are already qualified to serve as a vice-captain."

"Since that's the case," Ashido said without further hesitation, turning toward the battlefield, "watch yourself while you conduct your 'field research.' I'm going to carry out my mission."

"Please, Vice-Captain Ashido." Yan Si nodded.

Ashido said nothing more. His figure blurred, and he appeared dozens of meters away. His Zanpakutō left its sheath, and with a flash of steel, he cleanly cut a Hollow in half as it lunged toward a Thirteenth Division guidance team.

Watching Ashido depart, Yan Si turned his gaze back to the battlefield.

This was clearly a decisive battle. Both human sides had committed all their strength.

By rough estimate, there were likely tens of thousands of human soldiers fighting across the battlefield.

Even if only one-third died, that would still mean several thousand fresh souls brimming with resentment.

On their side, the entire Thirteenth Division plus the supporting Eleventh Division totaled only around two hundred people.

And they still had to guard against Hollows emerging from spatial cracks from time to time. The pressure was obvious.

His gaze slowly moved across the chaotic battlefield, over the fighting Shinigami, the struggling souls, and the ugly Hollows.

Then suddenly, his eyes stopped on the left side of the battlefield, in an area that appeared to be one side's main camp—the command center.

There stood a cluster of relatively intact tents and banners.

At the edge of that area, a little farther from the main battlefield, he saw two people dressed in white.

At that moment, each of them was gripping the Chain of Fate attached to the chest of a newly dead soldier soul. Their heads were lowered, their lips moving as though they were conducting some sort of ritual.

The Reiatsu fluctuations coming from them were strange, different from both Shinigami and Hollows.

"What are those?"

Yan Si narrowed his eyes.

Without alerting anyone, he gathered Reishi beneath his feet and silently made his way in that direction.