Lille Barro

East District One

Fourth Division Headquarters

The battle here was nearing its end.

Chikiri Shijima stood in the middle of the street, his Zanpakutō, Shinkirō, held horizontally at his side. The mist on the blade was slowly dissipating.

Dozens of Holy Soldiers lay dead at his feet and around him. Their white Reishi armaments had been torn apart by mist and sword slashes, scattered across the ground.

The Fourth Division members were clearing out the last remnants of the enemy. Several Holy Soldiers had been cornered in an alley, their arrows exhausted and the glow of their Reishi bows dim. The Fourth Division members dealt with them in a few swift moves.

Chikiri Shijima sheathed his sword and turned, preparing to check on his members' casualties.

Then his chest opened up.

A beam of light shot down from a distant height, piercing through his chest. Blood sprayed from both ends of the wound at once, forming a red mist in the air.

Chikiri Shijima looked down at his chest, his eyes widening.

The members froze for an instant, then moved at the same time.

"Captain!"

The two members closest to Chikiri rushed forward. Each grabbed one of his arms and dragged him from the center of the street toward the cover of a nearby building. Chikiri's feet left two bloody trails across the ground. He remained conscious, but his body no longer had any strength, and blood kept pouring from his chest.

"Take cover! Everyone, take cover!" the vice-captain's voice exploded across the street.

The Fourth Division members immediately scattered, hiding in buildings, behind walls, and in the shadows of doorways. They were well-trained and reacted with incredible speed.

But in those few short seconds, two more beams of light descended from above.

The first beam pierced through the abdomen of a member trying to block the captain from that direction with his body. His intestines spilled from the wound. He looked down once and did not scream. He merely stood there rigidly, using his final strength to remain upright and keep blocking that direction.

The second beam entered through his temple and passed through his skull.

He fell.

The second beam did not stop. After passing through the first member's head, it continued onward and struck the shoulder of another member dragging Chikiri away. Her entire left arm was blown off, fragments of bone and muscle splattering across Chikiri's back.

But she did not let go. Using her remaining right arm, she continued dragging Chikiri with the other member, pulling their captain into the narrow gap between two buildings.

"Medic! Medic!" the vice-captain roared.

A medic rushed over and threw herself beside Chikiri. She pressed both hands against the wound in his chest, gathering Reiatsu in her palms as she tried to stop the bleeding. But the wound was too large. His entire chest cavity had been pierced through. She could feel that her fingers could almost touch the fingers on the other side through the wound.

"Captain... Captain, look at me!"

The medic's voice trembled. "Don't close your eyes!"

Chikiri Shijima lay on the ground, his lips moving without sound. Yet he still released his Zanpakutō, and a thick mist began to obstruct their sight.

The vice-captain crouched beside Chikiri, raised his head, and looked into the distance past the edge of the building, gritting his teeth.

"Everyone, listen up! Don't expose yourselves! Use the buildings and walls to move! Medical team, pull the captain back!"

The members began moving. Some crouch-walked, some slid along the walls, and some crawled across the ground. They used every possible method to stay low and avoid exposing themselves to the sightline of that light.

Another person went down.

He had not been pierced through. He had been grazed. While a member dashed from one doorway to another, the beam skimmed his thigh. A huge chunk of muscle above his knee was sliced away, exposing bone, and blood gushed out like a fountain.

He gritted his teeth and did not cry out. Supporting himself with his hands, he dragged his ruined leg into cover.

The vice-captain watched his members fall one after another, his eyes reddening.

But he could not rush out. He knew that going out meant death. That enemy was too far away, his attacks too fast and too powerful. He could not even see the enemy's face, nor could he detect the enemy's Reiatsu. How was he supposed to fight?

All he could do was hide.

Atop the watchtower.

Lille Barro stood at the tower's edge. Faint Reishi smoke still curled from the muzzle of Diagramm in his hand. He wore a standard Quincy uniform beneath a hooded cloak, his expression indifferent.

He looked down through his scope.

Chikiri Shijima had been dragged away, and Lille could not confirm whether he was dead. He could not tell whose Zanpakutō that mist belonged to either. The division members had also vanished into the shadows of the buildings. The street was empty, save for a few corpses still lying there.

Lille lowered his gun, expressionless.

"He ran."

His voice was quiet, as if he were talking to himself.

He did not pursue. There was no need. His mission was not to hunt down an already heavily wounded captain, but to eliminate threats. Chikiri Shijima's chest had been pierced through. Even if he did not die from such an injury, he would absolutely be unable to fight for some time.

That was enough.

Lille raised his gun. The scope swept across other parts of East District One as he began searching for his next target.

North District One

Third Division Headquarters

The battle here had been going on for some time.

Yanyuan Jinle stood in the middle of the street, his Zanpakutō, Kakafūrō, held horizontally at his side. Faint Reishi sparks were still drifting down from its blade. Dozens of Holy Soldiers lay dead at his feet and around him. His Zanpakutō, Kakafūrō, could blast enemies apart with explosive light particles.

Paula Edema and Otto Fromm stood side by side at the other end of the street, neither of them looking pleased.

Paula's corrosive Reishi mist permeated the area around her, slowly dissolving the Reishi in the air, on the ground, and along the walls. Her Schrift was Psen—Corrosion.

During the first few minutes of the battle, her mist had indeed caused the Third Division considerable trouble. Several members' Zanpakutō had been corroded by the mist, their Reishi structures damaged and unable to undergo Shikai.

Otto's rapid-fire ability had flourished beneath the cover of Paula's mist. His Schrift was Ordonnanz—Rapid Fire.

Whenever he or nearby allies launched an attack, an extra Holy Arrow would gather beside him. Covered by Paula's mist, the Third Division members could not see where the attacks were coming from and could only defend passively. Meanwhile, more and more Holy Arrows gathered around Otto, like a cannon turret that never stopped charging.

But that had been at the beginning of the battle.

Now, the situation was completely different.

Not long after the battle began, Yanyuan Jinle had released Kakafūrō into Shikai.

After every slash, fine, nearly invisible Reishi light particles remained along its trajectory. They floated in the air like dust, like shattered gold—beautiful and harmless.

Until Yanyuan Jinle altered his Reiatsu.

The entire street was blasted into the sky.

The explosive force of the light particles did not come from the intensity of Reiatsu, but from their density. In the minutes after releasing Shikai, Yanyuan Jinle had continuously slashed, scattering countless light particles around Paula and Otto. They clung to the walls, the ground, the air, and even Paula's corrosive mist. The mist could corrode Reishi, but the particles themselves were vessels for Reishi explosions. Corrosion only made them more unstable.

Although Shikai's suppressive power was strong, it depended on Yanyuan Jinle's own attack frequency. Shikai alone could not kill two Schrift users.

So—

"Bankai."

"Kumogiri Kakafūrō."

Yanyuan Jinle's Bankai did not alter the sword's appearance, but it completely transformed the battlefield. Thick clouds and mist spread outward from him, blanketing the entire block.

This was no ordinary fog. Explosive Reishi light particles continuously formed within it, dozens of times denser than during Shikai. Every inch of air contained thousands upon thousands of particles, like countless eyes watching every enemy inside the mist.

Within the fog, Yanyuan Jinle did not need to slash to scatter particles. The fog itself was made of particles. With a flick of his finger, the entire mist could become one enormous bomb.

Paula's corrosive mist was suppressed by Kumogiri Kakafūrō's fog to the point that it could barely spread. For every light particle her mist corroded, ten more formed within the fog. Her Reiatsu was being rapidly drained.

Otto's rapid-fire ability was even more useless in the mist. Every time he formed a Holy Arrow, light particles clung to it and exploded the instant it was fired, blasting it apart in midair. His rapid fire became rapid explosions. Not only could he not hurt Yanyuan Jinle, he also blew himself into a filthy, battered mess.

The two barely held on beneath Kumogiri Kakafūrō's suppression for a while.

But only barely.

Paula's left arm was injured by one light-particle explosion. The sleeve of her white uniform was scorched, and the exposed skin was covered in blisters and cracks. Otto had a deep gash on his forehead. Blood streamed down from his brow ridge, blurring his left eye. He could only aim with one eye, and the accuracy of his rapid fire dropped sharply.

It was not as if they had not tried to counterattack.

Paula tried to compress her corrosive mist into a single line, piercing through Kumogiri Kakafūrō's fog zone to directly attack Yanyuan Jinle himself. But her mist was consumed by light-particle explosions while passing through the fog. By the time it reached Yanyuan Jinle, only a faint, harmless wisp of white smoke remained.

Otto tried to use Hirenkyaku to rapidly close the distance and attack at close range. But he could not see his direction at all within the fog. The faster he moved with Hirenkyaku, the more likely he was to collide with a light-particle explosion. He charged in three times and was blown back three times, gaining three more burns across his body.

The two looked at each other.

Paula nodded.

Otto gritted his teeth, put away his Reishi bow, and turned around.

There was no farewell, no threats, not even an extra glance. They simultaneously activated Hirenkyaku and retreated from the mist.

Yanyuan Jinle stood inside the fog, watching them leave without pursuing.

He sheathed his sword, and the clouds and mist slowly dispersed.

Behind him, the Third Division members were clearing the battlefield, counting casualties, and treating the wounded. The vice-captain came over and quietly reported their losses. Yanyuan Jinle listened, nodded, and said nothing.

His gaze remained fixed in the direction where Paula and Otto had disappeared.

Somewhere in Seireitei

As Seireitei's emergency responder, Shihōin Qianri had been constantly rushing around to rescue the nobles.

Immediately after the attack began, Qianri made his judgment: noble forces were the foundation of Seireitei. If the nobles suffered mass casualties, Seireitei's command and logistical systems would face collapse in the future. He led the main force of the Second Division outward from Seireitei's center, rescuing besieged noble estates district by district.

At the west gate, they rescued a family of Upper Nobility besieged by three vice-captain-level Quincy. Qianri released Shiranui into Shikai, red flames burning around his fists. One punch shattered a Quincy's Reishi shield, and the second punched through his chest. The remaining two tried to flee, only to be intercepted by Second Division members emerging from the shadows. A flash of Zanpakutō, and their heads fell to the ground.

At the south gate, they broke the siege around a lesser noble's estate. The battle there was already nearing its end. More than half of the noble forces had been killed or wounded, the estate gates had been blasted apart, and Holy Soldiers were pouring into the courtyard. Qianri leaped down from the rooftop, several floating red flames shooting out at once beside him and striking every Holy Soldier in the head with the precision of tracking missiles.

At the east gate, at the north gate, Qianri led the Second Division through Seireitei at high speed, like a mass of red flame, appearing wherever he was needed before vanishing again.

Shihōin Qianri's Shunpo was fast.

Within Seireitei, he had virtually no rivals. He crossed from one block to another in only a few breaths. His members could not keep up with his speed, so he often charged into battle alone, finished it, and rushed off again. By the time his members arrived, the battle was already over. The Second Division members simply began forming teams and fighting on their own.

This was the first time Qianri felt uneasy.

Because of that Reiatsu.

For the past few minutes, he had felt a Reiatsu constantly locked onto him.

Qianri knew someone was aiming at him.

He did not know where that person was.

There were too many high places to hide in throughout Seireitei and the surrounding Rukongai. But Seireitei's Reiatsu was too chaotic. It was possible to lock onto someone, but it required time and a stable state.

Qianri did not slow down.

He could not stop. If he stopped, those besieged nobles would die. All he could do was keep running, keep charging, keep fighting, and hope that sniper lost patience before he exposed an opening.

Then the attack came.

Qianri was racing down a street in North District One, heading toward a noble estate ahead that Holy Soldiers were attacking. He had pushed his Shunpo to its limit, his figure leaving a string of afterimages in the air. Ordinary people could not see where he was at all.

The attack did not target his afterimages.

It targeted a spot three meters in front of him.

His landing point.

Qianri's pupils suddenly contracted.

He forcibly twisted his body in midair, trying to evade the beam. The defensive radiance of the Heaven-Bestowed Divine Armament flared around him—the Reishi armor passed down through generations of the Shihōin Clan, capable of instantly blocking a captain-class Zanpakutō's full-force strike.

The light pierced through the Heaven-Bestowed Divine Armament's defense.

It pierced through his left shoulder.

Qianri felt as though an invisible giant hand had crushed his left shoulder. The Heaven-Bestowed Divine Armament's defensive radiance was as thin as paper before the attack. The beam barely slowed as it pierced his shoulder and flew out through his back, bringing a spray of blood mist with it.

Qianri clenched his teeth and did not make a sound.

His body lost balance in midair, and he tumbled to the ground, smashing through a low wall. Rubble and dust buried half of him. Blood poured from the wound in his shoulder, soaking through his Shihakushō and the lining of the Heaven-Bestowed Divine Armament.

He immediately crawled out of the rubble. His left arm hung at his side, completely powerless, cold sweat covering his forehead.

He raised his head and looked in the direction from which the attack had come.

He activated Shunpo again.

This time, he moved in an irregular, unpredictable pattern. Three steps left, five steps right, two steps forward, four steps back—sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes high, sometimes low. His figure moved through the street like a fallen leaf tossed by the wind, without any pattern at all.

Atop the watchtower.

Lille Barro watched the figure below through his scope.

His finger rested on the trigger, the scope's crosshairs following Qianri's movements. Three steps left, the crosshairs followed. Five steps right, followed. Two steps forward, followed. Four steps back, followed.

But every time he locked onto Qianri, the other man changed direction. That utterly random change in movement made it impossible to lock onto him again in a short time.

Lille's brow furrowed slightly.

He fired.

The beam shot out and pierced through an afterimage Qianri had left behind.

Qianri himself was already three meters away.

Lille lowered his gun and watched that figure disappear at the end of the street. He did not pursue further.

He turned the barrel, and the scope began sweeping toward his next target.

Qianri rushed through the gates of an estate, his steps finally slowing. His left shoulder was still bleeding, and his entire left arm had gone completely numb.

Qianri leaned against the gate, breathing heavily as he looked up toward the sky in that direction.