Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Strength of Chojirou

“There’s no other way. Since we can’t communicate clearly with words…” Without hesitation, Saidritz drew the sword at his waist.

To him, there was no need to show mercy to an enemy.

“I’ll just have to make you submit by force.”

“Don’t get cocky.” Nagatsugu drew his Zanpakuto as well—the blade that hadn’t left its sheath for quite some time.

“Big talk like that will only get you killed in an ugly way.”

“Oh…”

A sharp clang sounded.

Saidritz appeared behind Nagatsugu, bringing his longsword down in a swift arc.

His movements flowed seamlessly, without the slightest pause or awkwardness. The Wind Step in Saidritz’s hands was far more powerful than Kora’s could ever be.

But Nagatsugu had not stood still during the past century; in fact, he had already reached captain-level strength a hundred years ago. Not even Shigekuni Yamamoto knew the extent of Nagatsugu’s power now.

One thing was clear—

Without even turning his head, Nagatsugu blocked Saidritz’s strike from behind with a backward sweep of his sword.

“So you do have some right to boast.”

“I told you, don’t underestimate me.” Nagatsugu turned, his expression dark. From his sleeve, he extended a finger.

“Byakurai.”

A white beam of light shot straight at Saidritz’s chest, but a man who could serve as Yhwach’s right hand would not be so easily caught off guard. Even at such close range, Saidritz used Wind Step to evade the attack.

“Not bad…”

“And you’re one to talk.”

It was then that Saidritz realized, to his surprise, that at some point his body had been bound by six thin, golden light panels.

“This is the third time I’ve told you not to underestimate me,” Nagatsugu said, gripping his sword, bending slightly, his head lowered—calm before the coming storm.

“You didn’t even notice the Six-Rod Light Prison I cast. Just how little do you think of me?”

“Hmph, this really is troublesome…”

Saidritz’s arm trembled slightly, and a small golden cylinder slipped from his sleeve.

A high-pitched beep sounded.

The golden cylinder emitted a dazzling light, and in an instant, Nagatsugu’s Six-Rod Light Prison vanished.

“What’s that?”

“We may have ‘Holy Chants,’ but compared to your demon arts, we’re still far behind. That’s why we invented these tools to dissolve kidō. Pay it no mind…”

Saidritz’s gaze grew cold—he was finally taking things seriously.

“Just a few petty tricks, nothing worth mentioning.”

“Then I’ll trouble you to use something a little more impressive,” Nagatsugu replied, raising his sword as his spiritual pressure rose.

“Don’t worry.” Saidritz lifted his left hand, and from his sleeve dropped a silver pentagram-shaped pendant, apparently a bracelet.

“This time, I’ll give you a taste of my true strength.”

A silver pentagram quivered, then split into five petal-like shapes in Saidritz’s left hand.

“‘Heilig Pfeil.’”

A sharp twang split the air.

What weapon is the hallmark of a Quincy?

The bow.

Nagatsugu had never imagined he’d so soon face a Quincy who could wield a bow single-handedly.

He twisted his body just in time, narrowly dodging the attack.

“You’ve left yourself open.”

Between masters, the outcome is often decided in an instant.

And it was in that instant that Saidritz seized his chance.

As Nagatsugu dodged, Saidritz used Wind Step to appear right before him, his sword gleaming coldly as it slashed toward Nagatsugu’s head.

The blade struck the ground, but missed its target.

“You actually dodged. I’m impressed,” Saidritz remarked, raising his sword once more.

Nagatsugu now stood ten meters away, having escaped certain death by using Shunpo at the critical moment.

“It seems I was a bit careless…” Nagatsugu gave a wry smile, his face streaked with blood. He hadn’t entirely avoided the blow—his scalp had been grazed.

“Should we call a truce?” Saidritz asked quietly, watching Nagatsugu wipe blood from his brow, only for it to trickle down again almost immediately.

“Ah, no need. Let’s continue.” Nagatsugu wiped his forehead a second time, but when the blood still flowed a third time, he gave up with a helpless sigh.

“Is that so?” Saidritz didn’t press further, but slowly slid his sword back into its sheath.

“As an adjutant to Shigekuni Yamamoto, you do indeed have the right to face me as an equal.”

The blade returned fully to its scabbard.

“In that case, I cannot afford to be discourteous.”

He raised his right hand, unbuttoned his sleeve, and another silver pentagram bracelet slipped out.

“Let me bury you with the strongest weapon of a Quincy—the bow.”

Identical Quincy crosses on both hands!

A low hum vibrated the air.

Crouching, his left hand extended forward, right hand drawn back, he assumed the stance of an archer.

The Quincy crosses on both wrists suddenly erupted with immense spiritual pressure.

A whoosh followed.

From the right Quincy cross, spirit particles surged from five points, drawn toward the left wrist’s cross, merging and spiraling together into a massive arrow of pure spirit energy.

“Rest in peace, Nagatsugu Suzume.”

With a thunderous roar, the spirit arrow spun through the air, creating a violent vortex like a long spear, hurtling toward Nagatsugu.

An explosion.

Victory seemed assured, but out of the swirling smoke, Nagatsugu’s voice rang out—much to Saidritz’s shock.

“I must say, I’m surprised.”

Nagatsugu stood firm, sword raised. In his hand was Yanlingmaru, now released in its Western sword form.

“I didn’t expect I’d have to use ‘Thunderous Lingering Gale’ so soon.”

To think that just the released form of his sword could neutralize a combined attack from two Quincy crosses?

“I thought I was done for this time.” Nagatsugu swung his arm, shook his sword, relief evident in his expression.

If that wasn’t even his Bankai—then just how strong was he, truly?

For the first time, Saidritz realized the depth and unfathomable strength of the Soul Reaper before him.

“That was a mistake on my part.”

Nagatsugu blinked, surprised by the admission.

“Underestimating your strength was my error. If you reached captain-level a hundred years ago, you shouldn’t be any weaker than Ichino Tadokoro.”

Saidritz lifted a hand to the eyepatch over his left eye.

“In that case, I too must give everything I have to ensure victory.”