In a hidden chamber deep beneath Karakura General Hospital, within a space dense with concentrated Reishi, the air hummed with latent power.
"The Quincy arts… While I do not know where you heard of this specific technique," Ishida Ryūken stated coolly, adjusting his glasses with a precise motion, "I gave you my word. I will now teach you the training method for Ransōtengai."
He spoke with the detached air of a lecturer. "What is called Ransōtengai is, in essence, an advanced method of Reishi manipulation, developed and refined by the Echt Quincy of the Ishida family. Its purpose is to elevate one's control over spiritual particles to its absolute peak, theoretically approaching the sublime mastery exhibited during a Quincy's… Letzt Stil."
"You are aware of why Uryū lost his powers, correct?"
"The Sanrei Glove," Amamiya Miyako answered promptly.
"Precisely. The Sanrei Glove. The training regimen following its use shares conceptual similarities with Ransōtengai. However, the Glove's function is too extreme, too absolute. It is a pass/fail test with no middle ground. Therefore, the Echt devised Ransōtengai as a more gradual, controlled path—a means to approach the Reishi dominion of the Letzt Stil through dedicated cultivation."
A hint of something bitter touched Ryūken's voice. "Yet, despite centuries of refinement, no Quincy has ever truly replicated the Letzt Stil's perfect control through Ransōtengai alone. It remains an ideal, just out of reach."
Amamiya listened intently, analyzing every word. If this was the pinnacle of Quincy training and yet no one had reached the promised peak, what crucial element was missing? Was it a flaw in the method, or a limit of the practitioner?
"First, demonstrate the current level of your Reishi manipulation. Show me your foundation."
Nodding, Amamiya summoned his Quincy Cross. In a flash of blue light, his Spirit Bow materialized in his hand. He nocked a Heilig Pfeil, took aim at a nearby structure within the Reishi-constructed training room, and fired.
The arrow struck true, shattering the simulated building into a cloud of glittering spiritual particles.
"Swing the silver whip, strike the five-handed stone bed!Gritz!" Amamiya intoned, his will extending outward.
The scattered Reishi did not simply dissipate. Instead, it swirled and condensed, reforming not into the original structure, but into several solid, star-tipped pillars of light that shot from the debris, pinning nothing to the empty air—a flawless manifestation of the Quincy binding technique, Gritz.
Ryūken's eyes narrowed imperceptibly behind his lenses. This level of proficiency was remarkable. To not only gather ambient Reishi but to forcibly restructure it into a complex, pre-determined form… It was on par with what he had witnessed from Amamiya during their first encounter. His surprise, however, remained locked behind an impassive face, replaced by a piercing, analytical stare.
This was indeed the first time Amamiya had attempted such a direct, external transformation. Previously, his manipulations were mostly internal—altering the form and property of the arrows generated by his own Spirit Bow and Zanpakutō, Zetsunen. Manipulating his own spiritual energy was one thing; coercing external, ambient Reishi to obey a new, foreign pattern was exponentially more difficult.
The trick, Amamiya had discovered, lay in the arrow itself. Each Heilig Pfeil he fired was imbued with a fragment of his consciousness and intent. Upon impact, that intent could briefly overwrite the 'wild' state of the ambient Reishi, forcing it to comply. It was a clever workaround, a medium-based control.
But true, effortless mastery—the ability to simply will solid or liquid Reishi from the air into any desired form, like a master Quincy shaping Seele Schneider or a Heilig Bogen from nothing—that still eluded him. His intensive underwater training in Soul Society had forged his control to a fine edge, but it was, at best, a half-measure. He still required a conduit, a catalyst.
"Your foundation is sufficient. You may proceed directly to the advanced stages of Ransōtengai training," Ryūken declared after a moment's consideration. "This place is no longer suitable. Follow me."
Without another word, Ryūken turned and led Amamiya out of the large training chamber, through sterile hospital corridors, to a nondescript, blank wall. He placed his palm flat against the white surface. There was no flashy light or sound, only a subtle warping of the air, and a seamless door irised open in the solid concrete.
'A barrier keyed to his Reishi signature… So meticulous,' Amamiya noted, impressed by the security.
Upon entering, the difference was immediate and palpable. The Reishi density here was not merely high; it was viscous, oppressive. The room was small, pure white, and utterly featureless—a stark cube of concentrated spiritual energy. Its sole defining characteristic was the overwhelming, turbulent pressure of the Reishi that filled it.
"Attempt to form your Spirit Bow here," Ryūken instructed, his voice echoing slightly in the sterile space.
Amamiya raised his hand, focusing. His Quincy Cross glowed… but no bow formed. The Reishi in the room resisted him actively. It felt less like gathering sand and more like trying to mold rushing water with his bare hands; it slipped through his spiritual grasp, inherently unstable and rebellious.
"This chamber was constructed using unique family artifacts. The Reishi here is not only dense but imbued with a powerful diffusive force. It actively resists cohesion, making it nearly impossible for any but the most skilled Quincy to manipulate. This is the crucible for the final stage of Ransōtengai."
"Your task is to conquer this diffusion. You must condense this resistant Reishi into a stable Spirit Bow and focus it into viable arrows. When you can fire a Heilig Pfeil in here as easily as in the outside world, your Reishi manipulation will have undergone a qualitative transformation."
His tone grew graver. "However, this environment is a double-edged sword. Prolonged exposure while failing to exert control will cause irreparable degradation to a Quincy's core abilities. The diffusive force doesn't just resist you; it erodes your connection to Reishi itself."
"You have two outcomes here: conquer the Reishi and evolve… or fail repeatedly and watch your Quincy powers atrophy until they are gone."
A cold, logical light shone in Ryūken's eyes. "But you are a Shinigami. The loss of Quincy abilities is not a mortal blow. Therefore, the choice to proceed is yours." His meaning was clear: he would fulfill his promise to teach, but he bore no responsibility for the consequences.
Amamiya was silent for a long moment, feeling the turbulent energy push against his senses. Then, his expression solidified into one of unwavering resolve. "…No. I will train here. Thank you, Ishida-san, for showing me the path to a higher plateau."
Ryūken frowned. "You understand the difference between Echt and Gemischt, yes? The Echt possess the hereditary technique, Blut. The defensive form, Blut Vene, can protect the body even in this environment, shielding the Quincy powers from erosion. You are Gemischt. You cannot use Blut. The only result for you here will be loss."
He had said all that needed to be said. 'If you still insist on this folly, the responsibility is yours alone.'
"I understand. Thank you for the warning, Ishida-san," Amamiya replied, his voice steady.
"Good. Then let us depart." Ryūken assumed the matter was settled, that Amamiya had seen reason. No sane Quincy, especially a Mixed-Blood, would willingly risk their power in such a gamble.
"Wait, Ishida-san," Amamiya said, a faint, determined smile on his lips. "I didn't say I was leaving."
Ryūken turned back sharply, his stern gaze boring into Amamiya. "Are you certain?"
"More certain, and more… excited, than I have ever been," Amamiya stated, his hand drifting unconsciously to his chest, where the Hōgyoku lay dormant within his soul.
Ryūken studied him for another tense second before the clinical mask returned. "…Very well. I will show you how to access this chamber. You may come and go as you please from now on." He was a man of his word, not a nursemaid. Amamiya's success or failure was his own affair. If he lost his Quincy power, he would still be a Vice-Captain—a capable enough ally for Uryū in a future crisis.
But Ishida Ryūken could never have guessed Amamiya's greatest asset was not his Shinigami prowess, nor even his Quincy potential.
It was the limitless catalyst nestled within his soul—the Hōgyoku. And it would resonate with his desperate desire, forging a path where none should exist.