In the world of the Shinigami, the concepts of spiritual pressure or spiritual might can be roughly understood as the density of the soul.
Generally speaking, the higher one's spiritual pressure, the more spiritual power they can mobilize. As for how well that power is controlled—that depends entirely on the individual.
This applies to both Shinigami and Hollows.
Take the protagonist, Kurosaki Ichigo, for example. His spiritual pressure is extremely high, but his control is poor. In the early stages, he couldn't freely regulate his spiritual pressure, nor did he have fine control over his spiritual power—such as when he condensed a reiryoku pathway while traveling to Hueco Mundo.
The Quincy, however, is a special case.
They don't necessarily possess high spiritual pressure themselves, but because they fight by manipulating ambient reishi, the amount of spiritual power they can wield is not necessarily inferior.
According to Kurosaki Rei's understanding, Shinigami condense reishi within their own bodies and fight using themselves as the core, while Quincy borrows and manipulates the power of nature to fight.
Thus, spiritual pressure isn't equivalent to the "mana" he understood from games, nor does it fully correspond to his current Spirit attribute. It's a more comprehensive evaluation metric.
For instance, his physical body was incredibly strong. If he were truly a soul in the Shinigami world, then the density of his soul would naturally be high as well—meaning his spiritual pressure wouldn't be low.
Of course, given that many combat methods in this world rely on the outward release of spiritual pressure, Kurosaki Rei inferred that the Spirit attribute must play a significant role in determining one's spiritual pressure value.
"Impossible…"
At this moment, Instructor Fujimoto, who was overseeing the test, stared at the display in surprise. Around them, murmurs and exclamations rippled through the students.
As violet-black light flickered, the gauge on the screen surged upward. The moment Kurosaki Rei placed his hand on the platform, it shot past the ten lower subdivisions almost instantly.
"Twenty levels of spiritual might!"
Someone cried out.
Yet quite a few students remained calm. Ever since the founding of the Shin'ō Academy, there had been no shortage of prodigies. Historically, monsters who entered the academy with single-digit spiritual pressure levels had existed.
But as the numbers on the screen continued to change, more and more expressions grew serious.
Twenty… nineteen… eighteen… seventeen levels of spiritual might!
"Is that enough?"
Seeing the numbers stop fluctuating, Kurosaki Rei turned and asked Fujimoto.
Unlike the astonished students, he didn't think his spiritual pressure was particularly high. He knew that in the original story, true geniuses often enrolled with single-digit spiritual pressure levels.
For example, Shiba Kaien, who would appear two hundred years later, and later on Gin and Hitsugaya—their entrance spiritual pressure would certainly surpass his.
So Kurosaki Rei felt no disappointment.
After all, he wasn't truly a being of this world, nor a pure reishi construct. His strengths lay in his extraordinary growth potential, as well as his refined combat instincts and techniques.
"No wonder Captain Unohana brought you here," Fujimoto said, recovering from his surprise. "You're indeed an outstanding talent. Let's proceed to the next test."
He set aside his astonishment and walked over to pick up two bamboo swords.
In truth, Kurosaki Rei's seventeen levels of spiritual might weren't top-tier among this year's students—he wouldn't even crack the top ten. Fujimoto's surprise stemmed from knowing Kurosaki Rei's background.
Kurosaki Rei had originally been nothing more than a vagrant from Rukongai.
Those prodigies who entered with single-digit spiritual pressure levels weren't necessarily more talented than Kurosaki Rei—they were mostly nobles or members of great families within the Soul Society, cultivated from childhood.
Before entering the academy, they had already trained within their clans for years. Naturally, their spiritual pressure was impressive.
But Fujimoto knew this:
Kurosaki Rei had received no such training. The boy didn't even know how to deliberately condense reishi.
His seventeen levels of spiritual might were entirely innate!
If Kurosaki Rei studied diligently for six years at the academy, his spiritual pressure could easily reach Level 8, perhaps even Level 6—the realm of seated officers.
In Fujimoto's eyes, Kurosaki Rei was already an unpolished jade.
The remaining question was his combat talent.
With that thought, Fujimoto tossed one of the bamboo swords to Kurosaki Rei. "Come at me."
Kurosaki Rei caught the shinai and weighed it in his hand. He immediately understood—
This so-called "second test" wasn't actually part of the entrance exam at all. Fujimoto simply wanted to evaluate his swordsmanship.
That explained why Fujimoto had said that passing the first test made him an official student. Now, as the swordsmanship instructor, he merely wished to gauge Kurosaki Rei's skill.
Seeing Kurosaki Rei stand still after taking the bamboo sword, Fujimoto assumed he was hesitant.
"Don't worry," Fujimoto said. "I'll suppress my spiritual pressure to match yours, and I'll stop short of causing harm. Just attack with everything you've got."
At those words, the corners of Kurosaki Rei's lips twitched upward uncontrollably.
He looked at Fujimoto. "Teacher… are you sure?"
Fujimoto frowned.
He felt as though the young man before him was looking down on him.
"You don't need to think about anything else," Fujimoto said sternly. "Just attack. Strike with the resolve to kill me. Let me see your level so I can plan your training and help you keep pace with the others."
Before retiring to teach swordsmanship at the academy, Fujimoto had been a seated officer. He considered himself fairly accomplished in the art of the sword.
In his view, Kurosaki Rei had talent, and he'd likely experienced plenty of street brawls growing up in the chaotic Rukongai. Relying on talent alone, he probably hadn't lost many fights—hence this arrogance.
Today, Fujimoto intended to teach this arrogant youth a lesson.
To show him that the crude, savage fighting of the slums was utterly inferior to true swordsmanship!
"With the resolve to kill you…"
Kurosaki Rei repeated the words.
He angled the bamboo sword to his side and lowered his stance slightly.
In that instant, Fujimoto felt it—
The young man who had been standing there so casually had changed.
It was in his eyes.
It was in that intangible pressure.
Like a tiger crouching before the hunt.
Like a famed blade sheathed, storing its edge.
Beneath those lowered brows surged barely contained excitement—like a volcano on the brink of eruption.
The madness of a warrior.
The fanaticism of a berserker.
In the next moment, the wooden floor beneath Kurosaki Rei's feet kicked up as he launched forward like a cannonball—yet somehow remained light and fluid in motion.
A distance of over ten meters vanished in a flash.
The bamboo sword traced an elegant arc through the air, like a master calligrapher's brush sweeping across parchment. It was only bamboo, yet it carried a blade light stained as if with blood.
Bang—!
At the critical instant, Fujimoto raised his shinai and blocked the strike. The shockwave sent his long hair fluttering, along with the youth's fringe.
As their eyes met, Fujimoto saw it—
Those eyes were filled with desire.
And exhilaration.
"Damn it!"
Fujimoto cried out inwardly.
His first move had already been three beats too slow.
And the young man's assault would not stop.
He felt as though he were facing a seasoned sword master—someone with innate battle instinct, who never missed a single opening.
Sure enough, as Fujimoto tried to recover his blade, Kurosaki Rei's second strike slithered in like a snake raising its head, piercing straight through his guard—
Straight for his throat!