Lille Barro

East District One

Fourth Division Garrison

The battle here was already drawing to a close.

Chikiri Shijima stood in the middle of the street, his Zanpakutō, Shinkirō, held at his side as the mist clinging to its blade slowly dissipated.

Dozens of Holy Soldiers' corpses lay at his feet and around him. Their white Reishi armaments had been torn apart by the mist and sword strikes, scattered all over the ground.

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

Chikiri Shijima sheathed his sword and turned, preparing to assess his men's 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 division members froze for an instant, then moved all at once.

"Captain!"

The two members closest to Shijima rushed over. Each grabbed one of his arms and dragged him from the middle of the street toward the cover of a nearby building. Shijima's feet scraped two bloody trails across the ground. He was still conscious, but his body had no strength left, and blood continued gushing from his chest.

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

The Fourth Division members immediately scattered, ducking into the shadows of buildings, walls, and doorways. They were well-trained and reacted swiftly.

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

The first beam pierced the abdomen of a member who had tried to use his body to block the captain from the shooter's view. His intestines spilled from the wound. He looked down once and did not cry out. He simply stood there stubbornly, using his last strength to maintain his stance 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 Shijima away. Her entire left arm was blown off, fragments of bone and muscle splattering across Shijima's back.

But she did not let go. With her remaining right arm, she kept dragging Shijima alongside 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 Shijima. She pressed both hands over the wound through his chest, gathering spiritual pressure 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 of her other hand 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 producing a sound. Yet he still released his Zanpakutō, and a thick mist began to obstruct their vision.

The vice-captain crouched beside Shijima, raised his head, and looked beyond the edge of the building toward the distance, gritting his teeth.

"Everyone, listen up! Do not expose your bodies! Move using the buildings and walls for cover! Medical team, withdraw the captain to the rear!"

The members began moving. Some crouched as they walked, some slid along the walls, and some crawled across the ground. They used every possible method to keep low and avoid exposing themselves to that light's line of sight.

Another person fell.

Not from being pierced, but from being grazed. A member had been rushing from one doorway to another when the light grazed his thigh. A massive chunk of flesh above his knee was sheared away, exposing bone, and blood burst forth like a fountain.

He clenched his teeth and made no sound. 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 dying. That enemy was too far away, the attacks too fast, and their power too great. He could not even see the enemy's face or sense the enemy's spiritual pressure. How was he supposed to fight?

He could only hide.

At the observation tower.

Lille Barro stood at the edge of the tower's summit. Faint Reishi smoke still drifted 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 the scope.

Chikiri Shijima had been dragged away, and Lille could not confirm whether he was dead. He could not tell whose Zanpakutō had created that mist either. The division members had vanished into the shadows of the buildings, leaving the street empty except for several corpses.

Lille lowered his gun, expressionless.

"He ran."

His voice was soft, as though speaking to himself.

He did not pursue. There was no need. His mission was not to hunt down a captain who was already severely wounded, but to eliminate threats. Chikiri Shijima's chest had been pierced through. Even if he did not die from that wound, he would absolutely be unable to fight again anytime soon.

That was enough.

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

North District One

Third Division Garrison

The battle here had already been going on for some time.

Yanyuan Jinle stood in the middle of the street, his Zanpakutō, Kakafūrō, held at his side. Reishi sparks still drifted slowly from its blade. Dozens of Holy Soldiers' corpses lay at his feet and around him. His Zanpakutō, Kakafūrō, could blast enemies apart through explosive light particles.

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

Paula's corrosive Reishi mist spread 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 so badly that they could not use Shikai.

Under the cover of Paula's mist, Otto's Rapid-Fire ability had been brought fully into play. His Schrift was Ordonnanz—Rapid-Fire.

Whenever he or nearby allies launched an attack, an additional Holy Arrow would form at his side. 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 constantly charging up.

But that had been at the start of the battle.

Now, the situation was completely different.

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

After every swing of his blade, dense, nearly invisible Reishi light particles remained along the path of the slash. The particles floated through the air like dust, like shattered gold—beautiful and harmless.

Until Yanyuan Jinle altered his spiritual pressure slightly.

The entire street was blasted into the sky.

The power of the light-particle explosions did not come from the intensity of spiritual pressure, but from the density of the particles. In the minutes after releasing Shikai, Yanyuan Jinle had laid countless particles around Paula and Otto through continuous sword strikes. They clung to the walls, the ground, the air, and even Paula's corrosive mist. The mist could corrode Reishi, but the light particles themselves were carriers for Reishi explosions. Corrosion only made them more unstable.

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

So—

"Bankai."

"Kumogiri Kakafūrō."

Yanyuan Jinle's Bankai did not alter the appearance of his blade, but it completely changed the battlefield. Centered on him, dense clouds of mist spread outward, shrouding the entire district.

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

Within the mist, Yanyuan Jinle did not need sword strikes to scatter particles. The mist itself was made of particles. All he needed to do was move a finger, and the entire fog would become one enormous bomb.

Paula's corrosive mist was suppressed by Kumogiri Kakafūrō's fog until it could barely spread. For every particle her mist corroded, ten times as many formed in the fog. Her spiritual pressure was being drained at a terrifying rate.

Otto's Rapid-Fire ability was even more useless in the mist. Every time he formed a Holy Arrow, particles clung to it and exploded the instant it was fired, shattering it in midair. His Rapid-Fire had turned into rapid explosions. Not only could he not harm Yanyuan Jinle, he had also blasted himself into a miserable state.

The two barely held out under Kumogiri Kakafūrō's suppression for some time.

But only barely.

Paula's left arm was wounded by one light-particle explosion. The sleeve of her white uniform was scorched away, revealing skin covered in blisters and cracks. Otto had a deep gash on his forehead, blood running down from his brow and blinding his left eye. He could only aim with one eye, and the accuracy of his Rapid-Fire dropped drastically.

It was not as if they had never tried to counterattack.

Paula tried to condense her corrosive mist into a single line, piercing through Kumogiri Kakafūrō's fog zone to attack Yanyuan Jinle's body directly. But her mist was exhausted by the light-particle explosions before it could cross the fog. By the time it reached Yanyuan Jinle, it was nothing more than a faint, harmless wisp of white smoke.

Otto tried to use Hirenkyaku to charge in at high speed and attack at close range, but he could not see his direction at all within the mist. The faster his Hirenkyaku, the greater his chance of colliding with a light-particle explosion. He charged three times and was blasted back three times, gaining three more burns across his body.

The two exchanged a glance.

Paula nodded.

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

There were no farewells, no threats, not even an extra glance. The two activated Hirenkyaku at the same time and retreated from the mist.

Yanyuan Jinle stood in the fog and watched them leave without pursuing.

He sheathed his sword, and the clouds slowly dispersed.

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

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

Somewhere in Seireitei

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

Qianri had made his judgment immediately after the attack began: the Noble Armed Forces were Seireitei's foundation. If the nobles suffered mass casualties, Seireitei's command and logistical systems would face collapse in the future. Leading the main force of the Second Division, he used Seireitei as the center and rescued besieged noble estates district by district.

At West Gate, they rescued an Upper Nobility household surrounded by three vice-captain-class Quincy. Qianri released Shiranui with Shikai, red flames burning around his fists. One punch shattered a Quincy's Reishi shield, and the second pierced 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.

At South Gate, they relieved a Lower Nobility estate. The battle there was already nearing its end. More than half of the Noble Armed 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, and several floating red flames shot out beside him at once, striking every Holy Soldier's head with the precision of tracking missiles.

East Gate, 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 very fast.

He had almost no opponents within Seireitei. He could move from one district 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 away again. By the time his members arrived, the battle was already over. The Second Division members eventually began forming their own teams to fight.

This was the first time Qianri felt uneasy.

Because of that spiritual pressure.

For the past few minutes, he had sensed a spiritual pressure constantly locking onto him.

Qianri knew someone was aiming at him.

He did not know where that person was.

There were too many elevated positions in Seireitei and the surrounding Rukongai where someone could hide. But Seireitei's spiritual pressure was too chaotic. Locking onto a target was possible, but it required time and a stable state.

Qianri did not slow down.

He could not stop. If he stopped, the besieged nobles would die. He could only keep running, keep charging, keep fighting, hoping that sniper would lose patience before he exposed an opening.

Then the attack came.

Qianri was speeding along a street in North District One, heading toward a noble estate ahead that was being besieged by Holy Soldiers. His Shunpo had reached its limit, leaving a string of afterimages in the air. Ordinary people could not even see where he was.

That attack did not target his afterimages.

It targeted a point three meters ahead of him.

His landing point.

Qianri's pupils suddenly constricted.

He forcefully twisted his body in midair, trying to evade the beam. The defensive spiritual light of the Heaven-Bestowed Divine Armament flared around him. Passed down through generations of the Shihōin Clan, this Reishi armor could instantly withstand the full-force strike of a captain-class Zanpakutō.

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

And through his left shoulder.

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

Qianri gritted his teeth and did not cry out.

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 gushed from the wound through his shoulder, soaking his Shihakushō and the lining of the Heaven-Bestowed Divine Armament.

He immediately climbed out of the rubble. His left hand hung at his side, completely useless, and cold sweat covered his forehead.

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

He activated Shunpo again.

This time, he moved in an erratic, unpredictable pattern—three steps left, five steps right, two steps forward, four steps back. He shifted between fast and slow, high and low. His figure moved through the street like a fallen leaf tossed by the wind, without any discernible pattern.

At the observation tower.

Lille Barro watched the figure below through his scope.

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

But every time he locked onto Qianri, Qianri changed direction. Those random shifts made with everything on the line made it impossible to lock onto the target again in a short time.

Lille's brow furrowed slightly.

He fired a shot.

The light shot out and pierced through the 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 without pursuing further.

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

Qianri rushed through the gate of an estate, his pace finally slowing. His left shoulder was still bleeding, and his entire left arm had completely lost feeling.

Qianri leaned against the gate, panting heavily as he raised his head to look toward the sky in that direction.