My bad screwed up chapter order, will fix when I get home.
Inside the kendō training hall, the Head Captain gazed at Asano Kiyoshi with a stern yet fatherly look, as warm and powerful as the sun itself.
After receiving Asano's resolute answer, the Head Captain stroked his beard with a smile. Then, in a gentler and more casual tone than before, he posed another question:
"Well then, let me ask you—where does your confidence to make such a promise come from? Is it that strange Zanpakutō of yours? If that's the case, it's not enough. The essence of a Shinigami's battle lies in their spiritual pressure. If I'm not mistaken, your spiritual pressure isn't exactly impressive, is it?"
Asano listened carefully, quickly grasping the intent behind the Head Captain's words.
He understood: the Head Captain wanted him to demonstrate that he possessed enough potential, the basic qualifications required to fulfill this mission. And yet, judging from the Captain's decision to train him and the tone in which he asked the question, it was clear—he already had an answer in mind. What he wanted was Asano's confirmation. It was also a subtle hint.
The old man was hinting that the bargaining chip Asano had previously laid down wasn't enough. A unique Zanpakutō alone could make him a promising candidate for a future high-ranking captain—but for Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, even an actual high-ranking captain wasn't beyond being cut down with a swing or two of his blade if needed. If Asano wanted to be seen as a true successor—not just a pawn in the noble power struggle—he needed to show more.
Realizing this, Asano didn't waste time with words. He silently gathered a ball of bluish spirit particles (reishi) in his hand. Then he spoke calmly:
"Head Captain, do you remember when I told you that my Zanpakutō allows me to enhance my ability to manipulate spirit particles?"
The Head Captain nodded without commenting. Being able to form such a reishi sphere was already impressive for a student—but as a bargaining chip? Still far from enough.
But Asano wasn't discouraged. He stared intently at the glowing ball in his palm. With a subtle motion of his hand, the reishi sphere transformed dramatically. At the same time, his voice carried through the quiet hall:
"My previous estimate of my Zanpakutō's power was made without any actual tests. Since then, I've discovered... that the enhancement it provides is not partial. It's total. A full 100% increase. In other words—within a set area, I can achieve absolute control over reishi!"
As his words fell, the once simple sphere of reishi took on a new form—it became a miniature sculpture of the Head Captain himself!
The sculpture was vivid and detailed—hair, scars, even the authoritative posture of the Head Captain were rendered with stunning precision. It was a true testament to absolute reishi control.
For the first time, the Head Captain opened his eyes fully. Within them lay an ancient, bottomless stillness—the kind of silence that could only come from an existence that had weathered countless eras.
Those eyes contained no smile, only endless depth, like staring into a well that had existed for millennia. Asano couldn't read anything from them—only feel a solemn, overwhelming silence.
His breathing quickened. Sweat beaded in his palm. But as if sensing Asano's nervousness, a trace of a smile appeared in the old man's eyes—a ray of sunlight breaking through the dark clouds, instantly dispersing the anxiety in Asano's heart.
Then the Head Captain spoke, his tone filled with quiet approval and pride:
"A very fine promise. Enough to earn this old man's trust. Then... let us begin training."
Asano felt a massive weight lift from his shoulders. The tension that had been coiling in his chest finally loosened.
Seeing the young man relax a bit, the Head Captain chuckled:
"Don't get too comfortable. My training is not so easy."
Scratching his head with a sheepish grin, Asano laughed awkwardly.
The Head Captain gave a resigned shake of his head, then turned serious once more:
"The first part of your training will be to push your spiritual pressure to its limits. You were born in Rukongai, which means your spiritual pressure likely hasn't fully matured. I don't need to explain how important spiritual pressure is in a Shinigami's battle, do I? And your training method will be... cleaning the entire kendō hall—under the pressure of my spiritual energy."
With that, the old man gestured toward a bucket and cloth at the side of the hall, smiling kindly.
Before Asano could even react, a wave of spiritual pressure burst from the Head Captain's body—vast as the ocean, deep as an abyss!
What kind of power was this?!
It was as if another dimension had descended upon the hall. The spiritual pressure condensed the air into a semi-solid state, draining the color from the world, stripping away all sensation—leaving only the emotion called despair.
For the first time, Asano understood what it meant for divine might to feel like a prison or a sea—divine presence as oppressive as hell itself!
Without any resistance, he was instantly crushed to the floor, pinned under that immense force. It was seamless, smooth—as if the universe had pressed a finger down on him.
Looking at Asano crumpled on the floor, the Head Captain said quietly:
"If you wish to fulfill your promise—then stand up. Even if your teeth shatter. Even if your bones grind to dust. Even if your soul is crushed to ash. Show me the depth of your resolve!"
Asano didn't reply—not because he didn't want to, but because he physically couldn't. Even staying conscious was taking every ounce of his willpower.
He clenched his jaw, the sound of grinding teeth echoing in the hall. Blood trickled from the corner of his lips. Veins popped along his arms and face, bulging like coiled serpents. His once delicate features twisted with pain and fury.
Truthfully, Asano didn't know where this determination came from. Maybe it was the yearning of an ordinary soul for a better life. Maybe the wild ambition of a stray dog chasing stars. Maybe just a muddy dreamer's longing to rise.
His spiritual energy surged. The scroll that hovered beside him rotated slowly—revealing the image of a howling, wrathful oni.
From deep in his throat, Asano let out a furious roar—and slowly, inch by inch, pushed himself off the ground.
Sunlight still streamed into the kendō hall.
It shone on the bowed head of an aged warrior.
It shone on the raised chin of a young man staring straight into the future.