The Quincy had come again.
The battlefield lay in Withered Field on the border, a stretch of wasteland plowed over again and again. The grass roots had long since rotted away, leaving only cracked earth and gravel. Quincy Reishi arrows rained down from every direction, blue-white streaks tearing through the gloomy sky and blasting patches of scorched earth wherever they landed.
The Quincy's Reishi arrows rained down from every direction.
The Tenth Division could not even lift their heads under the barrage. Their line had been thin to begin with, and after several volleys, they could only retreat in a panic. Their swords were still in their hands, but their feet were already moving backward.
Soon
The Eleventh Division and Eighth Division swiftly assembled as the main force, while the Third Division, Fourth Division, and Fifth Division were deployed to either side to provide supporting cover on the flanks.
The Third Division's Seated Officers led their Squad Members into position on the left flank. Although Rose Ōtoribashi was absent, Iba Chitetsu held the line steady; the Fourth Division set up a first-aid station in the rear, where Yamada Kiyonosuke stood beside the stretchers, his expression grim; the Fifth Division's Squad Members spread out on the right flank, working with the Eighth Division to fill the gaps.
Under the cover of Shibata Takanobu's gravity, the Eleventh Division's Squad Members braved the rain of arrows and pushed forward inch by inch.
But as the fighting went on, something began to feel wrong.
Shibata Takanobu had indeed taken the field.
Holding that black ōdachi wrapped in shimenawa rope, he stood in the middle of the formation. As he released his Reiatsu, the ground around him sank a little. When the Quincy's arrows drew near him, that gravity forced them off course.
But