Value Exceeds Price, Miraculous Hands!

The chaotic battlefield fell into a deathly silence.

Terrified gazes were fixed upon the ink-black arm standing in the center.

A situation beyond all comprehension had emerged.

No one knew exactly what had happened; even Kuchiki Sojun could not fathom the current state of affairs.

He stared blankly at that god-like figure, where countless fine, dark shadows slithered across its profound body like winding black snakes.

Countless branches, resembling tree limbs, greedily absorbed the chaotic, overlapping spiritual pressure in the air, crawling amidst the charred earth and blood, reflecting the horrified faces of the Soul Reapers.

"Steady!"

A roar from within the rebel ranks shattered the deathly silence.

"It is merely an illusion, nothing to fear!"

"I, Morishita Katsuya, shall be the one to shatter it!"

"Crush him, Thorn Maru!"

The rebel leader held his Zanpakuto horizontally before him; the moment his spiritual pressure erupted, a massive surge of white light exploded outward.

Immediately following, countless black vines covered in sharp thorns shot forth from the hilt, heading straight to envelop the black shadow's right arm in the center of the battlefield.

Seeing this, Morishita Katsuya wore a cruel grin, his arrogant voice echoing across the field:

"This is the end, monster."

"No one can escape the bindings of Thorn Maru, not even a captain."

"Now, go to hell!"

As he spoke, his spiritual pressure flared. The black vines shimmered with a strange light, and the countless thorns upon them grew and contracted frantically, attempting to grind the black shadow's right hand to pieces!

Witnessing this, the rebels regained their courage. Excited expressions appeared on their blood-stained faces as clamorous shouts rang out one after another:

"That's right, just like that!"

"As expected of Lord Morishita, truly invincible!"

"Kill this guy, the final victory belongs to us!"

Hearing these clamors, Kuchiki Sojun felt a twinge of panic, for he had finally recognized what the right hand standing in the center of the battlefield was.

Some time ago, he had spent one thousand kan at the Spiritual Arts Academy to purchase an amulet.

The pattern on the amulet was identical to that massive, shadowy right hand.

To be honest, the fact that this amulet could block a single fatal blow for him was already worth far more than the price he had paid.

Therefore, even if the shadow's right hand were shredded to pieces now, he would not feel the slightest bit disappointed.

However, the scene that followed redefined Kuchiki Sojun's understanding of the phrase "worth more than the price."

A teeth-gritting creaking sound rang out continuously from the shadow.

One by one, the thorns snapped, signaling that the scales of victory were beginning to tilt.

The tree-like branches of the shadow clung to the bodies of the Soul Reapers, drawing in the chaotic spiritual pressure drifting in the air and instantly crushing their external defenses.

The next moment.

A mist surging like a tidal wave erupted, and everything on the battlefield froze for an instant.

The expressions and movements of the Soul Reapers were petrified, as if a pause button had been pressed.

Pop, pop, pop...

Bursting sounds echoed from the bodies of the Soul Reapers entangled by the shadow, as if something were shattering.

There was no spray of blood, nor any sharp, piercing screams.

The moment the mist dissipated, thirty-seven Soul Reapers had been reduced to withered skeletons.

The Soul Reapers of the Kuchiki Clan, staring at the hellish scene before them, instinctively fell into a daze.

Everything had unfolded with such lightning speed that before they could even grasp what had happened, the scales of victory had already tipped.

The remaining rebels shuddered at the sight and, without any unified command, turned and fled.

Their leader, Morishita Katsuya, who possessed the strength of a high-ranking seated officer, was dead; were they supposed to stay here and be buried with him?

Watching the rebels flee, the Soul Reapers of the Kuchiki side exchanged a shout and immediately began their pursuit with excitement.

Kuchiki Sojun, however, remained standing in a daze, still unable to recover from the shock.

Soon, he was the only one left on the vast battlefield.

Sojun walked to the spot where the shadow's right hand had stood; some pure black dust remained on the grass.

He took the completely shattered amulet from his neck and muttered blankly:

"This seems to be beyond the point of being described as 'worth more than the price'."

"A thousand rings to decide the course of a war—there is no better bargain than this!"

Spiritual Arts Academy, Kaido classroom.

At the front of the podium, a student stared nervously at the white mouse before him, pale green light blooming from his hands.

As his spiritual pressure was injected, the bone-deep wound on the mouse's back healed at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Countless granules of flesh sprouted, purging the residual blood and weaving together new tissue.

The essence of Kaido is, in fact, extremely similar to the medical ninjutsu of the neighboring village, using spiritual pressure to stimulate cells to achieve a healing effect on the wounded.

"Hmm, a perfect demonstration."

The Kaido instructor inspected the mouse's back and nodded in satisfaction.

"Everyone may follow the process I just demonstrated, inflict varying degrees of injury upon your white mice, and then use the Kaido techniques I have taught you to treat them."

"The more severe the injury, the more difficult it will be to heal."

"Naturally, he will also receive a higher score in this Kaido course."

"Very well, you may begin your attempts now; I will be monitoring the precision of your movements at all times."

Below the podium.

Kisaragi Akira rubbed his chin, nodding thoughtfully before looking toward Aizen beside him and asking point-blank:

"Sosuke, I don't quite understand this Kaido stuff."

"Do you have any tips for improving healing efficiency?"

Although in the eyes of others, Aizen was unremarkable, possessing average talent and ranking in the middle of the class.

Yet in Kisaragi Akira's view, this guy's level of genius was no less than his own.

One could see as much just from the fact that he could easily achieve full marks in his academic subjects.

"None."

Aizen shook his head. "Kaido is, in essence, the precise control of one's own spiritual pressure; it requires diligent study and hard practice. There are no shortcuts."

Kisaragi Akira sighed helplessly and turned his gaze to the white mouse on the table.

He picked it up by its slender neck with his left hand and held a scalpel in his right, pondering where it would be best to make an incision.

But just then, an inexplicable tremor surged from the depths of his heart.

Kisaragi Akira shivered instinctively.

Then, a snapping sound rang out, and the white mouse's neck was broken clean.

Seeing this, Aizen shook his head and sighed.

Even in the safest Kaido class, this guy could still find a way to cause trouble.

Seemingly noticing Kisaragi Akira's actions, the Kaido instructor furrowed his brows and strode toward him in two or three steps.

Seeing this, Kisaragi Akira backhanded the mouse onto the table for a final struggle.

Emerald light of Kaido bloomed, enveloping the "corpse" that seemed to have lost all vitality.

[Miraculous Hands] activated!

The next moment.

Under the stunned gaze of the Kaido instructor, the broken neck snapped back into place, and the white mouse actually regained its vitality.

In this moment, the dead were resurrected!