"Genryū?!"
Kuchiki Kōga repeated Naraku Sora's words, a look of realization dawning on his face.
"So it was the Head Captain's technique."
The predecessor of the Shin'ō Academy was the Genji Juku, which served as Yamamoto's teaching grounds in the early years. The curriculum taught there was the very school he had founded—"Genryū."
Many within the Gotei 13 were aware of this history.
"Old Man Yamamoto once said that the cultivation of a Zanpakutō should be the cultivation of the Soul Reaper themselves."
Naraku Sora spread his arms as a scorching Reiatsu surged forward, sweeping across the vast dojo. The environment instantly grew heavy and oppressive, as if an invisible weight had been pressed against everyone's hearts.
Kuchiki Kōga's expression immediately became much more serious.
He had originally thought he had simply been caught off guard when Naraku Sora punched him into the wall earlier, but looking at him now, this guy seemed even stronger than he had anticipated.
This outward release of Reiatsu alone was already infinitely close to that of a Captain-level Soul Reaper.
"When one's own cultivation is insufficient, they develop an over-reliance."
"And the consequences of doing so are usually not very good. So, Kōga, do you want to learn Genryū from me?"
Hearing this, a hint of hesitation appeared on Kuchiki Kōga's face. "Shouldn't we ask for the Head Captain's opinion on such a matter?"
"Ask him for what?"
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"I mean, the teacher said that as long as it isn't taught to those with wicked hearts, it's fine. For someone like you, a meritorious person who has sacrificed so much for the Soul Society, he would be more than happy to teach you himself. Why would he disagree?"
Kuchiki Kōga nodded, deeply convinced.
He was beginning to appreciate this new friend more and more; he was completely different from his father-in-law. Almost every word hit home, making him feel a sense of warmth in his heart.
"Since you put it that way, I won't stand on ceremony."
Kuchiki Kōga nodded readily. He went as far as unbuckling the Zanpakutō from his waist and placing it against the wall.
"Where do we start?"
Naraku Sora grinned, revealing a kind smile. "With a baseline assessment, of course."
"Old Man Yama used to say, how can you start teaching without determining the student's true level?"
"Whether it's Hakuda or Kidō, show me your full strength."
The moment the words left his mouth, Kuchiki Kōga's body suddenly tensed, and he reflexively exploded with his full Reiatsu.
A fist wrapped in a blood-red mist, radiating a scorching heat like a volcano about to erupt, arrived instantly.
There were no flashy displays.
Extreme power and speed, combined with appalling force-delivery techniques, merged into one, presenting itself before Kuchiki Kōga in a near-perfect form.
"Enmetsusen!"
Without any hesitation or delay, he pressed his fingers together. A thick, oval-shaped light shield solidified instantly, blocking the way like a sturdy city wall.
CRACK!
A massive boom echoed as a shockwave erupted from the collision, surging outward in all directions. Countless fragments of light scattered, embedding themselves deeply into the dojo's floor and walls, leaving behind hideous fissures.
Kuchiki Kōga's Kidō proficiency was still very high.
Even an incantation-abandoned Enmetsusen managed to withstand the essence of Naraku Sora's Genryū. Though it was only for a fleeting moment, it was enough to buy Kuchiki Kōga the necessary reaction time.
Shunpo.
The red Ginsekka fluttered in the air, and purple light gathered between his hands, aiming at the figure below.
A flash of fanaticism flickered in the depths of Kuchiki Kōga's eyes; he had looked forward to an evenly matched battle for a long time. In the past, those rebellious Soul Reapers would fall within seconds under the influence of Muramasa's ability.
Now, by temporarily discarding that power, he had instead rediscovered the original intent of combat from his days at the Academy.
"Hadō #63: Raikōhō!"
A brilliant golden glow erupted within the dojo as distorted, hideous arcs of electricity poured down, completely illuminating the entire hall and reflecting the ferocious smile on the man below.
The grand lightning fell instantly, carrying an unstoppable momentum that completely swallowed Naraku Sora's body.
Kōga thought this strike would secure victory, but to his surprise, a figure charged out from the crackling lightning in the next moment.
Cloaked in a blood-red mist, Naraku Sora tore through the electrical arcs clinging to his body like a meteor. With a terrifyingly grim smile hanging on his lips, he drove a straight punch toward Kuchiki Kōga.
Ikkotsu!
There was no time left to prepare a defensive Bakudō.
Kuchiki Kōga held his breath and squeezed out every drop of his Reiatsu, concentrating it into his right fist before meeting the attack with the same posture.
The moment their knuckles met, a power as vast as the sea surged forth.
That instantaneous collision made Kuchiki Kōga understand the meaning of Genryū. When that majestic power poured into his frame, it instantly filled his limbs and bones.
As if a pause button had been pressed, Kuchiki Kōga's expression froze completely. In a daze, his entire body spun through the air, tracing a nearly perfect parabola.
Crossing a distance of dozens of meters, he flew straight from the center of the dojo, carving a human-shaped indentation into the hard wall before sliding down from the mark like a pile of mud.
Lying flat on the cold ground, countless images seemed to flash before Kuchiki Kōga's eyes.
The youthful vigor of his Academy days, the high spirits when joining the Kuchiki family, the sweetness of his marriage, and his invincibility on the battlefield...
When he finally managed to wake from his stupor, Kuchiki Kōga couldn't even feel his limbs. Only intense pain radiated throughout his body, as if every single bone had been crushed.
Naraku Sora looked at the "mud" on the ground and then at his own fist, nodding with satisfaction.
Compared to when he was being beaten by Yamamoto, he had indeed become much stronger.
In truth, Kuchiki Kōga wasn't that weak. Even without his Zanpakutō, his strength was firmly at a Captain's level. The reason he was beaten so helplessly was entirely because he didn't understand his opponent and was caught off guard in the heat of the moment.
The Raikōhō from earlier was proof of his skill.
If Naraku Sora hadn't been wearing the Shihakushō specially customized for him by Shutara Senjumaru, his outer Hierro might have been pierced.
Naraku Sora crouched in front of Kuchiki Kōga, meeting his gaze.
"Kōga, you should understand my good intentions now, right?"
Kuchiki Kōga nodded with some difficulty, using Kaidō to soothe the sharp pain wracking his body.
Although he had been beaten miserably, not only did he feel no resentment, but he was actually filled with gratitude.
Aside from his wife, this was the first time someone had treated him with such sincerity. Not only was Sora willing to point out the flaws in his cultivation, but he had even shared the Genryū techniques that ordinary Soul Reapers would treat as priceless treasures.
To have such a friend—this life was enough!
Kuchiki Kōga's lips curled into a smile. Looking at the youth before him, he said solemnly:
"Thank you, Sora."
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