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"So strong!"
"He took down a Sternritter with one slash!"
"The Zero Division is terrifying!"
"One swing, one kill. He really lives up to the legend!"
"The God of the Blade is insane! Do another rap!"
…
As the battle footage spread, the Soul Society was shaken once again.
Ōetsu Nimaiya's effortless control when he swung his blade, the relaxed grin on his face, and his flashy hip-hop style instantly won over a huge number of viewers.
The title "God of the Blade" suddenly carried real weight.
And in no time at all, it spread throughout the Shinigami world, stirring up a brand-new storm.
Fifth Division.Underground base.
"Well, well…"
Ichimaru Gin's half-lidded eyes fixed on Ōetsu. Speaking in his smooth Kyoto dialect, he sounded genuinely amazed. "That slash was terrifyingly sharp. It doesn't lose to my Kamishini no Yari at all."
This wasn't sarcasm. He meant it.
During that moment, Gin had watched Ōetsu's swing with absolute focus.
And yet…
Until Gerard Valkyrie's hulking body collapsed into a lifeless corpse on the ground, the only thing Gin could see was the jet of blood erupting from the wound on his neck.
As for when Ōetsu actually struck him—
He couldn't see it at all.
"Killing someone above captain level so casually with nothing but a standard asauchi…"Aizen's dark eyes flashed with unmistakable caution. "That kind of power makes it hard to stay indifferent."
All this time, Aizen believed that the power and lethality of a sword strike ultimately came down to the wielder's spiritual pressure.
Yes.
In his worldview, every battle in the Shinigami world was fundamentally a clash of spiritual pressure. That was beyond doubt.
Scenes like the one in the video, where an enemy was cut down in a single blow, were something Aizen himself could also achieve.
But the difference was that he relied on spiritual pressure infused into his slash, not the slash itself.
That distinction was enormous.
And that was precisely why Aizen felt wary.
After all…
From the title "Blacksmith of the Royal Palace" alone, Aizen had already deduced that Ōetsu was the man who forged every Zanpakutō, one of the most ancient beings in Soul Society.
Someone who had existed for over two thousand years.
A person like that… would possess spiritual pressure so vast it was almost unimaginable.
If Ōetsu could layer spiritual pressure into his sword strikes, wouldn't that mean he could cut down anything in his way? Gods, Buddhas, all of it.
Just thinking about it made one's scalp go numb.
"Yeah… and it wasn't just us," Ichimaru Gin said, glancing toward the other side of the video. "The three pure-blood Quincies in the back were so scared they couldn't even move."
At that moment, aside from the left arm of the Soul King, still hidden beneath a black robe and yet to fully reveal itself, both Lille Barro and Askin Nakk Le Vaar had gone pale.
Ōetsu's swordsmanship had completely bluffed them.
"Interesting…"
Aizen's lips curled into a knowing smile. "If that were all the strength the king's personal guards had, there'd be no reason for the Quincy King to bother bringing them to the Soul King Palace. Yet here they are."
"Oh?" Gin squinted, smiling as if enjoying a show. "What are you getting at, Captain Aizen?"
"Whether human or Shinigami, people love celebrating early. They pop the champagne before the curtain falls," Aizen replied calmly. "And more often than not, the ending takes a sharp turn."
"So…"
"Let's keep watching. I have a feeling this fight may still flip on its head."
It wasn't that Aizen wanted to side with the pure-blood Quincies.
It was simply habit. Centuries of caution told him that the royal guard could not possibly be this weak.
And yet—
What followed slapped him in the face again and again.
Back to the footage.
"Damn it… is Valkyrie really not acting?"
Askin Nakk Le Vaar, hiding at the very back, stared at the Miracle man collapsed in a pool of blood, a fountain gushing from his throat. His face drained of color.
Killed in a single exchange?
You had to be kidding.
"Hmph…"
"Hip-hop punk, no matter how weird your tricks are, nothing escapes my eyes," Lille Barro snarled as he hoisted his sniper rifle.
Aim. Lock on. Fire.
A thunderous bang rang out.
A piercing bullet made of pure reishi tore through the air faster than the eye could track, zeroing in on Ōetsu's head.
Less than a hundred meters apart.
Dodging was no longer an option.
And yet—
"Pure-blood Quincies…"
Facing certain death, Ōetsu showed not the slightest hint of panic. Under Lille's furious glare, he calmly turned around and slid his blade back into its container, rinsing it clean.
The arrogance of the gesture was unmistakable.
As if to say their filthy blood wasn't worthy of staining his sword.
Even if that sword was nothing more than a failed creation.
Second Division barracks.
"Whoa! That's insane!"
"Turning his back on a sniper shot just to clean his sword? No wonder they call him the God of Blades. That hip-hop guy Ōetsu is the real deal…"
Ōmaeda stared at Ōetsu's carefree silhouette like a starstruck fanboy, practically sparkling with admiration.
"I'll admit it," Soi Fon said, arms crossed, nodding. "His swordsmanship has reached a level beyond comprehension. I couldn't even see the strike."
When Valkyrie went down, even Soi Fon had been shaken.
Through the lifelike footage, she could feel the explosive force behind the Miracle man's attack. It was easily on par with her own assassination techniques.
And yet Ōetsu not only reacted in time, he killed him in one smooth motion.
Absurd didn't even begin to cover it.
"Captain, do you think the Blade God can dodge a sniper round like that?" Ōmaeda asked nervously as he watched the bullet create a sonic boom.
If he got his head blown off, that legendary reputation would be ruined.
He had just found a new idol. The last thing he wanted was to see him lose his head.
"Is that even a question?" Soi Fon rolled her eyes, her voice tinged with admiration. "To expose your back in the middle of a fight like that, completely defenseless… that takes unbelievable confidence. Or madness."
Her words carried genuine awe.
No matter how confident she was in her own speed and perception, she would never dare pull something like that.
Meanwhile.
When the bullet was less than ten meters from the back of his head, Ōetsu's relaxed voice rang out as he faced away from the camera.
"Pure-blood Quincies. Since you're kind enough to serve as my whetstones, I suppose I'll reward you with a little story…"
"For over two thousand years, I've personally forged tens of thousands of Zanpakutō. Too many to count."
As he spoke, Ōetsu gripped the hilt and washed away the last traces of blood from the blade's tip. "But this one here, Sayafushi, is the failure that breaks my heart."
"It's too sharp. Too smooth. No matter how I swing it, it never chips or dulls. Even attacks made of the densest reishi can be split apart with ease."
"Just like this."
The moment the words left his mouth, Ōetsu turned around with perfect timing, calmly raising Sayafushi in front of him.
What happened next left countless viewers stunned.
Clang!
A sniper round powerful enough to annihilate an entire Zero Division palace was sliced cleanly in half just before impact, instantly rendered harmless.
Tinkle.
Only when the shell casings hit the ground did anyone fully grasp what had happened.
Lille Barro's face twisted in shock, his eyes bulging. "That's impossible! Ōetsu! What did you just do?!"
"Yo, getting flustered already? Your mental game's pretty weak," Ōetsu said lightly, meeting his venomous stare. He rolled his wrist and grinned. "I didn't do anything special. I just held my sword up. Your so-called 'guaranteed hit' bullets naturally split in two."
Silence.
Lille's expression darkened.
His ability, The X-Axis, ensured absolute penetration once a target was locked. Nothing should be able to block it.
And yet Ōetsu had shattered it effortlessly.
"Oh, and one more tip," Ōetsu added with a playful raise of his brow. "If you don't believe me, feel free to try again."
"Tch. I don't need advice from you," Lille snapped.
Completely enraged, he pulled the trigger again and again.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
More than a dozen explosive rounds screamed toward Ōetsu.
But nothing changed.
Slash.
Still just one swing.
Ōetsu cut them all in half.
And then—
Before the shell fragments even hit the ground, the body wrapped in a gray vest vanished from the container, moving at a speed beyond words.
In an instant, he was standing right in front of Lille Barro.
"Sniper, thanks for those shots. You gave me some great inspiration mid-fight," Ōetsu said casually. Only then did Lille barely manage to react.
Too late.
Sayafushi flashed again.
And with it came Ōetsu's mocking, almost gentle voice.
"Don't worry. As a reward for being my second whetstone, I'll write your name into my next hip-hop track."
Slice.
A pillar of blood shot dozens of feet into the air.
Lille's expression froze, his eyes rolling wildly.
Across his neck, in the exact same spot as Valkyrie's, a clean, unmistakable line of red appeared.
"D-damn it…"
He squeezed out the last of his strength and forced out those final two words.
Lille Barro collapsed to the ground with a thunderous crash, his face twisted with venom and unwillingness.
Captain of the Schutzstaffel—
Killed once again.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk…"
"I was being nice, you know. Sending you straight to Soul Society for reincarnation. Why'd you have to curse me with your dying breath? Honestly, no good deed goes unpunished…"
The words were chilling enough to raise goosebumps.
Yet Ōetsu's expression was as cheerful as ever, just as he always claimed—
Killing two members of the Royal Guard in a row was, to him, nothing more than sharpening his blade.
"Alright then, that makes two left…"
He flicked the blood from the tip of Sayafushi, lifted his head, and raised the sword once more, pointing it at the remaining enemies.
His confident voice rang across the sky.
"So? Who's next? If you wanna die, step up on your own."
"I, Ōetsu, believe in seeing good deeds through to the end! I'll send all of you on your way in one go!"
When those words were broadcast clearly into Silbern through the recap video—
Every member of the Sternritter watching shared the exact same thought.
"It's over."
"Haschwalth! Hurry up and convince His Majesty to surrender!"
"..."
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