Chapter 71: The Strongest Fist of the Quincies
Fortunately, perhaps because the heavens heard Uryu Ishida's internal complaints, his status as the "forgotten man" did not last long.
Several Soul Reapers appeared, hurriedly untying him from the execution stand. They invited him into a nearby building—one that looked somewhat charred as if it had recently survived a fire—offered a few words, and set down a tea set and some food. But before the tea was even finished pouring, they ran off again in a desperate rush.
Listening to the frantic chatter of those Soul Reapers, Uryu pieced together a series of events: something about the "Muscle Queen" Rukia Kuchiki leading an army of hyper-aggressive muscle-men to conquer the Soul Society, beating the Seireitei senseless before making a grand declaration and departing; then the Soul King announcing the first "Three Worlds King of Fighters Tournament"; and finally, an army of mysterious muscular floods falling from the sky, nearly destroying the Seireitei until the Quincy King intervened to save them. As a reward, Uryu Ishida, the "Successor to the Quincy Empire," was granted a full pardon.
This string of news was so high in "muscle content" that Uryu remained in a state of total bewilderment. He even began to wonder if the "Muscle Queen Rukia" they described and the gentle, refined Rukia he knew were actually the same person. If she had really beaten the Seireitei into submission, why hadn't she come to save him instead of leaving him hanging on a rack like a side of beef?
Regardless, Uryu finally knew what had happened after he killed Mayuri Kurotsuchi and lost consciousness.
The confusion persisted. Being sentenced to death while unconscious was one thing—he'd slept through it—but the real questions were: Who exactly was the "Quincy King," and when had Uryu become the "Successor to the Empire"?
It felt as though he had taken a nap and the world had secretly updated its version three or four times!
Uryu was not under surveillance; the Soul Reapers simply lacked the manpower. He opened the door and stepped outside. Looking up, he saw ink-black shadows churning, protecting the entire Seireitei. In the distance, a white, towering palace floated in the sky—the Wandenreich. Directly beneath it stood the 1st Division headquarters.
The sounds of frantic movement echoed everywhere—rescue workers helping the injured and soldiers preparing for war. Uryu stood in the middle of it, yet felt completely detached.
As the external noise faded, Uryu began to examine the changes within himself.
From the moment he woke, he realized his body was exponentially stronger. A mere 30% Absolute Realm was no longer his desperate limit. Deep in his heart, weak or "sissy" thoughts would occasionally surface, only to be instantly devoured as fuel by a searing, hateful fire of battle intent. This had become a constant passive state; even when not fighting, Uryu remained calm, cold, and rational.
Overall, he felt better than ever. He felt powerful enough to kill Mayuri Kurotsuchi another ten times over without breaking a sweat.
As his scattered thoughts cleared, Uryu—who had been "behind the version"—finally sensed it: the world was filled with an incredibly potent, peak Purity. It manifested as a supreme flame of battle intent, burning with manic intensity.
This Purity and intent felt instinctively familiar. Then came a premonition he couldn't name. When he killed Mayuri, he had held this same Purity and exploded with the same desperate, mad battle intent, willing to burn his everything for one perfect punch.
Now, the one possessing this Purity and resolve—the one about to step into that "Burnout Realm"—was the World itself!
The World was not an independent entity; it included everything within it. Who was the World planning to swing its strongest fist at? Uryu didn't know, but his own battle fire rose in resonance.
A Martial Artist's instinct was roaring. To witness, to participate—whether fighting or being fought—was supreme bliss. Because the moment that strongest fist was thrown, it would be a "macho" scene of peerless beauty. As a fighter, he couldn't miss it even if he died.
While his instincts roared, Uryu's face turned odd. He had been woken by the scent of Grand Fisher. Though it had vanished, now, as he sensed the world's Purity, he caught a trace of Fisher again. It was ethereal, everywhere yet nowhere—utterly baffling.
As he searched for the scent, Uryu's vision blurred. He saw Ichigo Kurosaki, hands in his pockets, appearing out of nowhere and walking toward him.
"Ishida-kun... I knew you wouldn't disappoint me after that legendary battle. You've mastered the Fighter's Soul. You can sense the information within Purity..."
"Kurosaki-kun..." Uryu was startled, but quickly realized the truth. This wasn't the real Ichigo. It was a high-purity manifestation of his will, projected through the medium of Purity itself.
Ichigo laughed. "Your Purity is excellent. Ordinary fighters only hear my voice; you see my form. If you go further, you might enter my Purity Domain. We could transcend time and space to spar in reality or dreams anytime. I'm actually very interested in your Reishi Blasting Fist..."
Uryu remained silent for a moment. "Kurosaki-kun... I won't ask what a dream-sparring Purity Domain is. I just feel like you're becoming increasingly... non-human."
In his memory, Ichigo beating Fisher was understandable. But this—crossing thousands of miles with a thought to manifest a soul-avatar—was beyond comprehension.
"Trivial techniques. Once your Purity is high enough, you'll master them too. I'll skip the pleasantries. The real me was taken to Hueco Mundo by Aizen. I'm currently unconscious, digesting the 'afterglow' of my fight with the Old Man. But through the world's Purity, I've sensed the changes. As a friend, I have to tell you..."
"The refining of the Three Worlds Ark has begun. But before we set sail, the 'Spectator' on the throne is waiting to see what the new world should look like. He wants us to clench our fists, cross the Hellish Trial, and use our power to tell Him. The World is also waiting for the coming struggle—the war that burns the old to forge the new..."
Uryu pondered this. "Maybe I've been asleep too long. Can you put that in plain terms?"
Ichigo grinned. "Simple. The Spectator hasn't decided on the order, system, or management jobs for the future Ark Era. He's watching all the powerhouses. The fists we throw now are our resumes. The Purity in our punches is the value of our proposal. This is inside information the public doesn't have yet. Understand?"
"Understood. The hiring criteria for 'Three Worlds Civil Servant' in the Ark Era. I've noted it. Thank you!!"
Uryu went to push up his glasses, only to realize they were long gone. He didn't mind. He had heard that before graduation, good seniors would give juniors the "inside scoop" on top companies and interview tips. Ichigo was doing exactly that, but on a cosmic scale.
He was a Martial Artist now, but as a person of the Living World, Uryu knew power didn't put bread on the table. You still needed a job. Compared to working in his father's hospital, being a "Three Worlds Civil Servant" was far more attractive.
"No need to thank me. The world told me this is a 'perk' for the first batch of Heaven Media contract employees. Now, Ishida-kun... go and fight. I can sense your legendary battle isn't over yet. Use it as nourishment. Become more delicious... more savory..."
Uryu's expression tightened. It wasn't just the words; it was Ichigo's gaze. Those deep, resolute eyes felt like black holes, greedily eyeing everything as potential growth. It wasn't necessarily malicious, but it wasn't hidden either.
As the "Strongest Creature on Earth," Ichigo was becoming simpler. He preferred the communication of fists over hollow words to forge the bonds of friendship. Whether with Aizen or Uryu, the outcome was the same. Uryu realized that a "bloody sparring session" was inevitable the next time they met.
"Well, I'm off. If you need me, call through the Purity."
As Ichigo turned to leave, Uryu suddenly remembered. "Wait! Kurosaki-kun, what is the deal with Grand Fisher? I suddenly sensed him again."
Ichigo paused, his head tilting with a playful smile. "Fisher... with his Vaseline and chrysanthemums... hasn't he been watching you from behind this whole time?"
Uryu's hair stood on end. He felt a chill down his spine. One hand instinctively covered his backside while the other dropped into a combat stance. He spun around, roaring:
"YOU DEAD PERVERT! YOU'RE STILL HERE!? I'LL BLAST YOU—"
He stopped. There was no one behind him. He turned back, and Ichigo was gone too.
Ichigo's last words sounded like a prank. But Uryu felt it wasn't a joke—it was a warning.
While Uryu stood there brooding, a Soul Reaper arrived to summon him. The Captain-Commander wanted to see him. Startled, Uryu followed.
In a temporary field hospital, Uryu saw Yamamoto. The old man was leaning back in a chair while Unohana bandaged his wounds and applied healing Kido. The moment Uryu met that blood-red gaze, his mind cleared, and he entered a state of high alert. The killing intent was suffocating.
"Boy. You killed Mayuri Kurotsuchi and caused a loss for the Soul Society," Yamamoto began flatly. "But Yhwach says you are the successor to the Quincy Empire. Therefore, you will take Mayuri's place. As a Captain of the Gotei 13, you will lead the Quincies from the Wandenreich and a portion of Soul Reapers to fight for the Seireitei. You will fight until your merits repay the damage you caused!"
Beside him, Unohana's hands paused for a fraction of a second. This decision was a total violation of Seireitei regulations. But she looked at the shattered Ryūjin Jakka resting nearby—still stained with fresh blood—and simply smiled, saying nothing.
Earlier, some "unwise" nobles had come with unpleasant demands. They were met not with the usual bureaucratic stalling, but with the edge of a scorching blade. The strongest Reaper was no longer submitting to the noble order. The chaos Urahara once feared was happening, yet it felt strangely natural. Even the Monk hadn't objected.
Unohana found the "illegal" appointment charming. It reminded her of a millennium ago, when the first Captains were all world-renowned demons and killers recruited by Yamamoto's lack of prejudice.
Uryu, having been "spoiled" about the new era by Ichigo, didn't care about the plot anymore. He just wanted to know where the enemies were. He was impatient to start the slaughter.
"Boy. Go gather your subordinates. The Seireitei will return to reality in a few hours. When that happens, I want to see you personally kill ten thousand enemies. Use their heads to forge an appointment letter that no one can question. For every enemy you miss, I'll carve a line into your skin..."
Facing this "10,000-kill" side quest, Uryu remained cold and arrogant.
"Ten thousand is too few. How about thirty thousand? For every one I kill over that, I get to punch you once. How about it?"
Yamamoto let out a demonic laugh. "Excellent! I look forward to it!"
Yhwach kept his word, sending the Sternritters to assist. They soon found Uryu.
The shadows began to fade. The Seireitei was rising back from the Shadow Domain. Sunlight and the blood-red eyes in the sky returned to view.
Looking at the earth—now covered by a boundless, shoulder-to-shoulder flood of black muscle-men—Uryu took a deep breath. Not of fear, but to suppress the surge of battle intent that made him want to scream!
He turned to the Sternritters behind him.
"I don't care what 'heritage' you have in the Wandenreich, or what techniques and 'Schrifts' you use. But from now on, I want you to watch and learn. See the strongest power and technique of the Quincies, passed down by my grandfather, Soken Ishida!"
The Sternritters wore subtle expressions of doubt or disdain. The impatient ones were ready to mock him.
But it didn't matter. In the next instant, every Reishi particle centered around Uryu began to riot!
The solidified Reishi of the Seireitei's architecture began to disintegrate, roaring toward him in a flood, weaving into a vast, churning Ocean of Reishi.
Uryu leapt into the air. Energy wings erupted from his right arm—not two, but four!
Dominating the Reishi ocean, Uryu transformed into a peerless beast. With fists harder than steel acting as a "maw" to devour the enemy, he declared to every watching Quincy:
The "sissy" era of Quincies shooting bows from a distance is over. A true Quincy uses the strongest Will to drive the strongest Fist and blast the strongest Enemy!
"Absolute Realm 50%—REISHI BLASTING FIST!!!"
The crushing force of his punch was like a tsunami—a natural disaster. Every Hellish Macho-Man it touched was torn into nothingness.
The Sternritters were speechless. They realized there was nothing "special" about the move; its foundation was the most basic Quincy Reishi manipulation. But from that mundane base, he had sublimated an unthinkable level of power. They began to wonder: What kind of monster was Uryu's grandfather to develop such a world-shaking martial art?
Yamamoto, watching this, spoke to Unohana.
"The brats of the new era are rising with the tide. It's time for you to let go and fully liberate yourself. Otherwise, the 'First Kenpachi' dying at the hands of a common grunt because she couldn't keep up with the times... that joke wouldn't be funny."
This was for Unohana, but also for the Captains and Lieutenants gathering for the sortie. Unohana said nothing, only smiled gently. But within that maternal gaze, a horrific, bloody killing intent began to leak!
Uryu's performance was unstoppable. At 50% Absolute Realm, his power was infinite. Punch after punch, without a pause for breath, he looked ready to clear the horizon alone.
Suddenly, an anomaly occurred. Many "Macho-Man" grunts began to dissolve into miasma, forming cocoons. The cocoons shattered, and a figure wreathed in thick Hell Miasma emerged.
Looking at Uryu rampaging across the battlefield, the figure from the cocoon tilted his head. He used a finger to bore into his own temple, piercing the skin to "massage" his brain. He muttered to himself:
"Good. Brain function is normal. No hallucinations. So... all my resurrection backups failed. I went to Hell, and now Hell has spat me back into the Soul Society? A natural reaction to the soul balance being broken? No... since the first thing I see is this brat, it must be Hell's intentional design. Fascinating. Hell has reactions like this? I'd really love to dissect Hell's brain and see..."
Uryu noticed the newcomer. The moment he saw him, he roared in fury:
"MAYURI KUROTSUCHI!!!"
Hell was the underworld—the final destination of the dead. Now that Hell was invading, the dead were gaining a chance to return—though with a price, evidenced by the miasma clinging to Mayuri.
Mayuri tilted his head, his voice devoid of emotion. "Quincy brat. Don't yell. I have no interest in fighting you; it's too much trouble. But I'm currently not my own master. Be quick with your hands. I still have many experiments to do back in Hell!"
With that, Mayuri raised a distorted Zanpakuto forged of Hell Miasma.
"Bankai..."
The Seireitei observers paled, realizing the implications. Only Yamamoto remained stoic. He knew some things about Hell. In fact, his inspiration for Zanka no Tachi's army of the dead came from Hell itself!
He also had dark thoughts he never shared. He didn't want to go to Hell and see the same old faces again; it would be a nuisance to have to kill them a second time. So he bound their ashes in his blade to ensure they couldn't even reach Hell.
He once thought those were problems for his "dead self" to face. Now, it seemed he would see those old faces while he was still alive.
No matter. He'd just kill them again. If once wasn't enough, he'd keep killing.
The Blood-Red Sun would grant an equal death to all things.
Yamamoto stroked the shattered Ryūjin Jakka at his side. The red in his eyes deepened. From the depths of his soul, a terrifying fire began to flow.
In that moment, the tip of his Zanpakuto disintegrated completely into nothingness.
End of Chapter
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