To kill a powerful figure when you are just an unknown nobody is one of the greatest joys in life.
Miyamoto Musashi delayed making a name for himself in Soul Society, instead honing his skills in the Outer Rukongai, hoping to find the right opportunity to kill the right enemy and make his name resound Soul Society.
The captain of the 11th Division clearly meets this criterion.
Miyamoto Musashi frequented the Outer Rukongai and often heard of Kenpachi Zaraki's great name.
The undefeated strongest Shinigami.
If he manages to kill his opponent, the battle will become a legend, quickly spreading throughout the entire Rukongai.
Just like his battle where he killed Sasaki Kojirō, it only took him one night to go from being unknown to being famous all over the world.
" Musashi, suppress your Reiatsu."
Oda Nobunaga immediately reminded him that his subordinate was getting a little too excited.
"Sorry." Miyamoto Musashi snapped out of his daze, suppressing his intense excitement. Realizing someone was missing, he asked curiously, "Where's that guy?"
Shiraishi ran away.
Oda Nobunaga's first reaction was that he had been betrayed again, and he immediately dismissed that possibility.
Shiraishi really wanted to harm him, there would be no need to wait until now.
His eyes darted around, then another possibility occurred to him. He cursed himself for being careless and said in a deep voice, "Our whereabouts have been exposed. You lure Kenpachi Zaraki, I'll go to Ryūgetsu Castle!"
Exposure?
Miyamoto Musashi looked towards Ryūgetsu Castle. It was at least tens of kilometers from there!
The Reiatsu released due to a momentary emotional outburst, falling over such a distance, was like him farting.
It's fine at close range, but at such a distance, that's impossible.
Miyamoto Musashi wanted to object, but he didn't speak. His lifelong habit led him to obey Nobunaga's order and leap from the mountaintop, leaving the mountain behind.
Meanwhile, in Ryūgetsu Castle, thirty kilometers away.
A tinkling sound rang out as the wind swept across the city wall, jingling the bells tied to the tips of hair.
Kenpachi Zaraki opened his left eye, a sinister smile gradually spreading across his lips, even his breath reeking of blood. "Found them. There are four of them. Who's the strongest?"
The bell started to ring; this guy isn't him, and this guy isn't him either.
Is that you...?
A deep, beast-like voice whispered in my ear.
Miyamoto Musashi felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He twisted his foot and landed on the ground covered with fallen leaves. He looked around but saw no one.
Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the trees, creating beams of light visible to the naked eye.
It was eerily quiet, yet also deafeningly loud.
The deafening roar of the Reishi turbulence cannot be heard with the ears, but with the Spiritual Sense.
"Here it comes! "Miyamoto Musashi's eyes darkened. He gripped the two swords at his waist and assumed the starting stance of the Niten Ichi-ryū style.
With a bang, the tree that took three people to encircle exploded, and a tall and slender figure rushed out. Beneath the white haori was a black Shihakushō, indicating the identity of the newcomer.
11th Division Kenpachi Zaraki.
A fierce gust of wind whipped up fallen leaves, which crashed against Miyamoto Musashi's feet, waist, and chest like a tidal wave.
He sized up the man in front of him, whose hair was as sharp as a prickly pear and who wore a black eye patch over his right eye.
The saying goes that one's appearance reflects one's heart; this was the first time he had ever seen such a monstrous face.
" Yachiru, step back."
The moment Kenpachi Zaraki saw Miyamoto Musashi, his eyes lit up, and he gripped the bandaged hilt of his sword with his right hand.
"Hi." Yachiru Kusajishi responded with her small hand, her little feet stepping on his broad back, and she leaped over Zanpakuto.
Miyamoto Musashi narrowed his eyes slightly and said, "Before the battle, I'd like to ask, how did you find my location?"
Kenpachi Zaraki would still grant the enemy's request, pointing to the bell at the tip of his hair, "This is a small device the Research and Development Institute made for me. It exposes my position while also allowing me to detect the enemy's location."
"So that's how it is. I was just being narrow-minded."
Miyamoto Musashi sighed. He never expected that even a place like Soul Society would have scientific creations.
"If you're satisfied, let's start the fight!" Kenpachi Zaraki had been really pent up lately.
Or perhaps they were simply craving it.
He had always wanted to fight Shiraishi, but he could never get the satisfaction. He searched in vain, and the others were the kind of people who couldn't even hurt him.
The surging fighting spirit within him had nowhere to be released.
Just then, the Captain-Commander received information that the Owari Group would be robbing the tax collection team in the West District 15.
Kenpachi Zaraki, with the spirit that even a small mosquito is meat, volunteered. He never expected to encounter a worthy enemy here. "I'm very happy."
"I agree. After killing you, Miyamoto Musashi's name will be known throughout the world."
He lowered his center of gravity, like a tiger pouncing on its prey, but did not strike first.
His favorite thing to do is to strike back after the opponent has acted.
"Haha," Kenpachi Zaraki.
For him, killing or being killed was merely a pastime to pass the time.
If the opponent's blade can truly kill him, that wouldn't be so bad.
Kenpachi Zaraki drew his sword.
Unlike a normal blade, his blade was pitted and uneven, resembling a row of serrated teeth at first glance.
If you look closely, you can see that the dented blade has become dull, which shows how brutal the knife's owner was.
"As a master swordsman, he doesn't even cherish his sword."
Miyamoto Musashi frowned and couldn't help but utter a rebuke.
Kenpachi Zaraki laughed, " Zanpakuto is a tool for killing; as long as it can cut people, that's enough!"
Boom! There were no fancy moves whatsoever; he simply raised and swung his sword, his movements riddled with flaws.
Is this the power of the one hailed as the strongest Shinigami?
Miyamoto Musashi disregarded his doubts, took advantage of the height difference, and lunged forward, drawing both swords simultaneously.
The so-called "Niten Ichi-ryu" ( Niten Ichi-ryū) means attacking while defending, and defending while attacking.
It's easier said than done.
He spent his entire life just organizing the concepts of the Niten Ichi-ryū. After his death, he went to the Soul Society and fought and killed others.
It took another two hundred years for the Niten Ichi-ryū to truly transform from a concept into a real-world technique.
They were close, within striking distance of each other.
Miyamoto Musashi's Reiatsu descended from his shoulders, and his right arm, seemingly boneless, lashed out like a whip.
The tightly gripped katana struck the junction of the hilt and blade with skillful force, unleashing layers of power that prevented Kenpachi Zaraki from swinging the sword with his full strength.
With his left hand, he slashed his throat with a small katana.
It happened in the blink of an eye.
A brief exchange of blows, barely a breath away.
Kenpachi Zaraki quickly took two steps back, his left hand touching his throat, his fingers able to feel the warmth and viscosity of the blood.
"He managed to dodge it once thanks to his animal instincts."
Miyamoto Musashi flicked the blood off his shojiro, a leisurely expression on his face. "No matter how ferocious the beast, it only has one fate when facing an experienced hunter: death."
Kenpachi Zaraki glanced at the blood on his palm. He'd almost been cut in the throat; had he retreated any slower, he really would have been. "Tsk."
"Are you scared?" Miyamoto Musashi asked.
"Idiot, you're either scared or bored because the battle is about to end."
Kenpachi Zaraki despises these kinds of swordsmen the most. Fighting with their blindfolds on is disgusting, but once they take it off, they quickly end the fight. "Please, you have to last as long as you can!"
As he spoke, he removed his blindfold, allowing his right eye to see the scenery again after a long time.