In the 80th District of North Rukongai, Kenpachi District, a monstrous clash was unfolding.
But unfortunately, aside from the two combatants, no one was there to witness it.
Perhaps that was for the best. Anyone caught up in this battle wouldn't have lived to tell the tale.
The sharp, chaotic clashing of blades rang out without end, as volatile energy erupted and collided in an endless storm.
The earth, fragile as brittle glass, shattered again and again under the strain, exploding into clouds of dust and smoke that rose high into the sky.
Within that swirling haze, two blurred figures danced in lethal motion.
"Hahahahahahaha!!"
The beastlike man laughed wildly, swinging his jagged blade with each strike.
He cleaved through every flash of silver that came his way. But when one slipped past his defenses, it carved a new wound into his body, sending fresh blood spraying across the battlefield.
Yet rather than fear or frustration, the man's blood only made him feel more alive. His veins burned with excitement.
This was a sensation he hadn't felt in ages.
The countless challengers who'd come before, none of them could even break his skin, even when he stood still and let them try.
But now, he was bleeding. Now, he could die.
And it was exhilarating.
Meanwhile, his opponent, the silver-haired swordsman, moved like a phantom. His blade carved black arcs through the air, ripping through the smoke and materializing right in front of the berserker.
The man laughed again, unflinching.
He didn't dodge.
He met the attack head-on.
Their blades clashed, not with a single strike, but in a storm of slashes. It was as if silver flowers were blooming in the space between them, hundreds of strikes overlapping in a flurry.
What looked like one slash was, in truth, dozens, maybe hundreds. That was the pattern the man had come to recognize in his opponent.
Under that relentless barrage, even he had no choice but to retreat. Step by step, he was driven back until one heavy blow finally sent him flying.
But the silver-haired swordsman, who had clearly held the advantage, was no less bloodied.
His attire, once elegant and pristine, was now soaked with crimson, his own and his opponent's.
His silver-white hair, matted with streaks of red, clung to his face.
And yet… he never once roared or howled like the other man. His smile remained, a soft, unshakable smirk.
Calm, composed, precise. That was how Seff fought.
The beast staggered to a halt and prepared to charge again, only to see wave after wave of black-violet slashes tear through the lingering smoke.
He had no choice but to block or deflect them with his own blade.
But then, he felt it.
A mortal threat.
His instincts screamed.
Before his mind could catch up, his body moved. He abandoned his swing, let the strike land across his chest, and leapt away.
A beat later, a blade came crashing down where he had just stood, so clean and silent it cut through the ground like tofu, leaving a deep trench in its wake.
Had he hesitated for even a moment, he'd have been split in two.
But it wasn't over.
The silver-haired swordsman appeared again, slicing through space itself, like a phantom echo.
Their blades collided once more.
Seff didn't shout or laugh, but it was clear, he was enjoying himself just as much as his opponent.
It was a refreshing, visceral joy, like stepping into an air-conditioned room on the hottest day of summer. The clash of equals, that's what Seff had longed for.
And this man… he was perfect.
Seff could feel it. With every clash, the wall that had long held his strength in check was starting to crack.
And then, just like that, it shattered.
In an instant, his growth surged forward like an explosion.
Until now, all of Seff's so-called "battles" had been mere executions. One swing, maybe two, never more.
That wasn't battle. That was routine.
But this, this was war.
At first, he'd still been thinking tactically, planning combos, seeking angles.
But soon, all of that faded. The only thing that mattered was delivering the right slash at the right time.
This man was both a whetstone and a furnace, tempering every ounce of Seff's accumulated skill into something lethal and real.
Because the truth was simple: if Seff didn't grow fast enough, he'd die, just like all the other corpses they'd passed on the way here.
All his prior experience had been child's play. Only this counted as real combat.
And then, for the first time… Seff grew afraid.
What if he outpaced this man too quickly?
What if he killed him, before he'd had the chance to enjoy it fully?
Where would he ever find another like him?
But the fear was unfounded.
No matter how fast Seff evolved, no matter how much stronger he grew, this man kept up.
He was like a beast with its jaws locked on a prey it refused to release. No matter how far Seff climbed, this monster clawed his way up right behind him, dragging him back into the chaos again and again.
So Seff let go of everything else.
There was no need to hold back. No need to think ahead.
All that mattered was this fight.
How long had they been fighting? How many times had their blades clashed?
No one knew.
All that existed in their world now was each other, nothing but them, and the endless spiral of battle.
<><>---------------------------------------
200 P.S = 1 Extra Chapters
Add to Collection!
🚨 TL/N 💥
Hello guys Fanfic recommendation!
Check out my other work:
💥> Naruto: Mind Control
If you like smart and strong MC, this fanfic is for you.
It's Peak.
Give it a chance and you won't be disappointed