The dust settled on the arena, revealing a large crater.
Kyōraku Munemitsu lay unconscious within it.
"Yadōmaru Lisa is the winner!"
Danmu announced the result, and immediately, a team of medical Shinigami came forward to carry the unconscious Munemitsu away.
"Lisa's technique was terrifying!"
Isane approached Lisa and began healing her with Kaidō.
The move had tremendous power, but Lisa's hand, which had thrown the Haguro Tonbo, was seriously injured.
"This hand won't move at all... I can probably only use that move once every few days." Lisa found that her torn-up right hand was now immobile.
"This injury will take two to three days to heal, at least," Isane estimated. "Good thing the semifinals won't be held until a few days later. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been able to participate in the next match."
"I never tried going all out with it during training... I didn't expect the side effects to be this severe," Lisa said helplessly.
The Raikiri she released by charging up with Haguro Tonbo had exceeded her expectations in both power and backlash.
With her current spiritual body strength, she couldn't unleash it without suffering damage.
After the two left the stage, Komamura and Tetsuzaemon stepped onto the arena.
Tetsuzaemon had been looking forward to this fight for a long time.
Back during the group stage, he lost to Sajin by going out of bounds—a frustrating outcome.
He hadn't even gotten to show his full strength!
He was lucky to have drawn Komamura again.
This time, he was determined to beat him and reclaim his pride.
Komamura once again opened with Dust Blade, his weapon stirring up a cloud of sand as he slashed fiercely toward Iba.
"The same move won't work on me again!" Iba had already realized that the sand had a blinding effect. "I won't fall for it this time!"
"Bakudō #24: Fūsen!"
With two fingers extended, Iba cast a wind-type binding spell, conjuring a rope of wind that wrapped around Komamura's Zanpakutō. At the same time, the swirling sand in the air was swept away.
After losing to Komamura before, Iba had thought carefully about how to counter his techniques.
Wind-based Kidō was the perfect counter to blinding sand.
With Komamura's blade restrained, Iba used his other hand to swiftly draw his sword and slash toward him.
"Raaaah—!!"
Komamura roared and, with sheer strength, forcefully twisted his Zanpakutō's direction to block the strike.
Clang!
Iba's heart trembled. 'What terrifying strength…'
Not even wind ropes could restrain his blade!
The clash of blades immediately locked the two into a power struggle.
Even though Iba was pulling Komamura's sword with the wind rope while pressing in with his own, his weapon was still slowly being pushed back toward him.
Seeing the blade getting closer and closer, cold sweat began to drip down his back.
In the guest seats, murmurs spread among the spectators.
"How foolish—to engage in a power struggle with a member of the wolfman Clan!" Iba Chitetsu, the 3rd Division's vice-captain, frowned at the sight.
Iba Tetsuzaemon was her son. A stern mother by nature, she was clearly displeased with his reckless tactics.
"The Wolfman Clan is rare. It's not strange that Tetsuzaemon didn't know how strong they are," said Ukitake Jūshirō, trying to smooth things over.
"That's common sense! Even if you've never seen one, you should've at least heard!" Chitetsu replied firmly. "You should never engage a Wolfman in close combat!"
"Now that I think about it… this Wolfman is the same one we encountered during our 'field training,' isn't he, Katori-kun?" Kyōraku Shunsui scratched his face as he recalled events from the previous year.
"Sajin was the disciple I accepted during that training trip." Nanatsuki nodded lightly.
"I remember there was some trouble around him back then. It's all been resolved now, right?" Ukitake asked warmly.
"It's been resolved. He got into trouble with a noble while trying to save someone, but they've since 'reconciled,'" Nanatsuki replied with a small smile.
That reconciliation had been one-sided—because Amamimon Tomoya was already dead.
"This Wolfman has great potential. With his strength, he's got an edge in swordsmanship too," said Kuyashiki Kenpachi as he flipped through Zajin's file. "Another one who's achieved Shikai... Katori-kun, your disciples really are something else."
Kuyashiki stroked his chin, suddenly struck by a strong premonition—'Don't tell me all four semifinalists will be Katori Nanatsuki's disciples?'
"Katori-ryu Dojo has really flourished under your leadership," Unohana Retsu commented emotionally.
To her, a few years—even ten or twenty—wasn't a long time.
Yet in that short span, Katori Nanatsuki had taken a once-desolate dojo and turned it into one known throughout the entire Seireitei.
If the dojo didn't have such strict standards for accepting disciples, it probably would've been overflowing by now.
"He's done remarkably well. Not even Katori Batsu'unsai's father accomplished this much during his lifetime," said Yamamoto with a slow nod.
He, too, had run a kendo dojo in his younger years and had known Batsu'unsai's father. He was familiar with the dojo's former state.
The Katori-ryu Dojo had never produced this many outstanding students before.
"Now that I think about it, it's enviable—having so many elite disciples," Kyōraku Shunsui said, opening his fingers to count. Including those who had already graduated, the number of disciples with the potential to become elite Shinigami had long exceeded ten.
"Katori-kun, do you have some secret method for finding geniuses?" Ukitake teased.
"There's no such method. Just fate," Nanatsuki shrugged.
Back on the arena, Iba Tetsuzaemon felt like he couldn't hold out much longer. He suddenly lifted his leg and kicked toward Komamura's abdomen, forcing him to retreat.
"I'm done holding back!" Iba wiped his sweat and ran his left hand along his blade, shouting loudly:
"Take the helm …Yūgyo no Nishikigoi,!"
The front of Iba's Zanpakutō widened slightly. A protruding spike extended from one side of the blade.
Its Shikai form resembled the character "下".
Komamura didn't hold back either, instantly activating his Zanpakutō:
"Roar—Tenken!"
Komamura's blade didn't change in shape, but above him appeared a massive hand holding a gigantic blade.
The hand was enormous—just its fist was larger than Komamura himself, who stood nearly three meters tall. The pressure it exuded was overwhelming.