Whoosh!
After chaining together several bursts of movement, Ling Qing finally escaped the suffocating crowd.
"Ha—"
Cold air rushed down his throat as he inhaled sharply.
He tried to take another step forward, but a wave of weakness surged from his knees down to his ankles, nearly sending him stumbling to the ground.
"As expected…"
Ling Qing took two steps toward the exit, leaned against the outer wall of the Grand Martial Arena, and slowly crouched down, rubbing his calves as if they barely belonged to him anymore.
"My Shunpo isn't much better than Mikazuki's."
He had left the arena looking effortless, but anyone with real experience could tell there were serious flaws in that so-called Shunpo.
To truly master Shunpo, three elements were required:
Speed.
Concealment.
Control.
In simple terms—move fast, leak minimal spiritual pressure, and be able to start and stop at will.
During the True Blade Trial, Mikazuki's Shunpo had only satisfied the first condition.
It was fast—and nothing else.
If Ling Qing had realized earlier that Mikazuki had already entered the first stage of Shunpo training, he could have simply avoided the charge entirely and let Mikazuki slam straight into Mitarashi's barrier.
That would not have been fatal—but the match would have ended instantly.
Ling Qing's own Shunpo suffered from physical limitations. He had made progress across the board, but none of it was truly complete.
For example—
"Teacher Mutsuki…"
As the soreness in his legs finally subsided, Ling Qing stood up, recalling how the match had been interrupted.
"That was real Shunpo."
Mutsuki Shōkaku's Shunpo was fully mature. Until she shattered the White Lightning mid-cast, Ling Qing had not sensed her presence at all.
"At that level, her seat should probably move up again."
Mitarashi's barrier had been respectable—but only respectable.
Shunpo was standard equipment for captains and vice-captains. Looked at another way, it was also a skill most seated officers could never fully grasp.
Before battles escalated to captain-level absurdity, speed still reigned supreme in Soul Reaper combat.
Ling Qing had no doubt—Mitarashi would never be Mutsuki's opponent.
"…Wait."
A thought struck him.
Her seat could move up—but not by much.
"The Fifth Division…"
Ling Qing exhaled quietly.
Ordinary Shin'ō Academy students would never know this, but Ling Qing had his own information channels.
Not important information—just critical information.
"Captain Shiba Seigen. Vice-Captain Shiba Ika."
"Names I've never heard before…"
He organized the limited yet prophetic knowledge in his mind.
Good news:
Ling Qing was a transmigrator. A former fan who had once devoured the entire Bleach manga from start to finish.
Bad news:
Time had blurred countless details. Worse, the transmigration itself had damaged his memory.
He could not even remember his original name.
As for the soul he had taken over—it was the exact opposite.
It remembered nothing except its name.
So Ling Qing had simply kept it.
On the bright side, Soul Society had treated him well.
This body possessed extraordinary Kidō aptitude, especially in spiritual pressure control. And perhaps due to the fusion of two souls, Ling Qing's spiritual pressure reserves were several times higher than those of his peers.
As for which soul was more talented—
They were already inseparable. He could not be bothered to care.
"Starting from Third Seat…"
"Shinji Hirako. Sōsuke Aizen."
Shinji's flippant demeanor was tolerable. Serving under him would mean more work, nothing else. His combat power alone guaranteed safety—he could fight captain-level opponents without even using Bankai.
The problem was the other name.
Sōsuke Aizen.
The most terrifying antagonist in the entire series.
Ling Qing had no confidence he would not be casually erased for some inexplicable reason.
After all, Aizen only learned how not to crush insects underfoot after becoming a captain.
And if Ling Qing remembered correctly, the Fifth Division's Third Seat had once been killed during Aizen's blade testing.
Which meant—
"…Sorry, Teacher Mutsuki!"
Under normal circumstances, joining the Fifth Division after graduation would have been ideal.
But Ling Qing was realistic.
He could not guarantee he would surpass Shinji.
Let alone Aizen.
If he ended up as the nameless Third Seat—
"Damn it!"
He cursed under his breath.
"What kind of hidden monster nest is the Fifth Division?!"
He did not know who the two Shiba leaders truly were, but based on his timeline judgment, his conclusion was sound.
"Time to go."
The True Blade Trial was over.
The excitement would fade soon. The Sixth-Year exams were still ongoing, and once things settled, the arena would be cleared.
After witnessing a True Blade Trial, no ordinary performance would impress the juniors.
Before the crowd poured out, Ling Qing chose to leave.
"Fourteen days."
That was Shin'ō Academy's entire summer break.
After that, the new academic year began immediately.
Those who failed—aside from rare exceptions—were sent back to wherever they came from.
For students from distant districts, even a one-way trip could consume the entire break.
Ling Qing did not crave rest.
He barely had enough time to train.
"Rukongai…"
"…It's time I went back."
Even in a foreign world, one needed something warm to remember.
Ling Qing headed toward the Fifth-Year dormitory.
Few students were on the road. Those still testing were queued at the arena; the rest were celebrating elsewhere.
Though a school, Shin'ō Academy stood within Seireitei itself—its prosperity dwarfed even the inner Rukongai districts.
Most students who failed did so not from lack of talent, but lack of discipline.
The academy's standards were not high. Anyone admitted under Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto's criteria should have been able to graduate.
"Ling Qing!"
A familiar voice called out.
Turning the corner between the Fourth- and Fifth-Year dorms, Ling Qing ran into a classmate—petite, cheerful, and unmistakably cute.
Especially the legs. Perfect proportions.
"What a coincidence," Ling Qing said, his practiced smile melting into genuine warmth.
"Heading out to celebrate?"
Behind her stood three well-dressed girls with plain faces and expensive makeup—clearly imported from the World of the Living.
That alone spoke volumes.
"Want to come with us?" she asked.
Her name was Ayaka Kurumadani.
Ling Qing had once asked about that distinctive surname. She had dodged the question every time.
"Not today. I need to pack."
"No problem," Ayaka waved casually and handed him a note.
Her modified uniform—modern, practical—stood in stark contrast to academy standard issue.
"Come find us if you have time."
"Will do."
They passed each other.
"See you~"
"See you."
Ling Qing unfolded the note.
A pale blue flame bloomed and reduced it to ash.
Had he released it fully, it would have become a proper Blue Fire Crash. Kidō was easier to amplify than restrain—and Mikazuki's scorched hand proved how unforgiving that spell was.
Ling Qing simply found the cost inefficient.
"Guess I owe her two favors."
He smiled faintly and entered his dorm.
Ayaka had helped twice—desserts for Nanao Ise, and intelligence on the Mikazuki family Zanpakutō.
The former came from her brother in the Gotei 13.
The latter had slipped out when Izumi Suzu bragged too much.
Only later did Ling Qing realize where he had heard the Kurumadani name before.
Zennosuke Kurumadani.
The Soul Reaper who once restrained Hōgyoku-fused Aizen for five seconds in Karakura Town.
No mockery intended.
Anyone capable of Shikai was elite.
Clack.
Ling Qing knocked twice, waited three seconds, then slid the door open.
Paper walls with absurd soundproofing—probably reinforced with Kidō.
The room was bathed in midday light.
A single-ponytailed boy sat cross-legged, Zanpakutō resting across his legs.
Sword meditation.
The ancient practice of communing with one's Zanpakutō—the same foundation behind Ichigo Kurosaki's meditation in the Dangai.
Ling Qing stared at him.
"Hadō Number One—"
"Hey!"
The boy snapped his eyes open.
"What are you doing?!"
"—Thrust!"
The spiritual bullet tore past his head, snapping a tree branch outside the window.
Leaves scattered like snow.
"…It doesn't hurt," Ling Qing said calmly.
"Do you want to look outside before saying that?"
The boy shouted.
"Then don't block the doorway."
"This is sword meditation! Do you even know what that is?!"
"Anyone who can sense their surroundings during meditation isn't meditating."
"…Tch."
He gave up.
After a moment—
"Oh?" Ling Qing smirked.
"Why so tsundere today, Byakuya?"
"Stop calling me that."
The boy scowled.
Yes.
Ling Qing's roommate was none other than Byakuya Kuchiki.
Not yet a captain.
Not yet a stoic.
Just an impatient boy.
Their relationship was nothing like the outside rumors suggested.
"Hey," Byakuya leaned closer.
"How's your Shunpo?"
"Second stage."
"Completed, or training?"
Ling Qing's vein twitched.
"Training."
"And your Shikai?"
Byakuya sighed.
Ling Qing knew immediately—he had lost.
"Why do you think I'm sitting here?"