Chapter Forty-Seven: Defeated and in Retreat
Houston could only stare in shock as Edrick, who had just stepped forward to confront the Reaper, was instantly split in two by a single stroke from the unremarkable Mikomaru.
What kind of power was this?
If judged by strength alone, Edrick was indeed a few degrees stronger than himself. Yet even so, he couldn’t withstand a single blow?
“Hey! Mikomaru! Why did you attack all of a sudden? I told you, that one was mine!” Minasho puffed out her cheeks, protesting angrily at Mikomaru.
“Oh? Is that so?” Mikomaru turned his head, scratching his sparse hair with an innocent look.
“Honestly…” Minasho shot him a glare, then walked toward Houston.
“Never mind, I’ll be the one to finish you off.”
“Damn…” Houston gritted his teeth in frustration.
Could this be real?
With just the two of them, their strength was already monstrous, and there were still two hundred ordinary squad members behind them who hadn’t even joined the fight.
Just how many monsters like this did the Thirteen Court Guard Squads harbor…?
“I see…”
A black figure suddenly appeared behind Houston, his tone playful as he addressed the three on the field—or perhaps he was simply muttering to himself—“So, one really can’t be careless, can one?”
The shock belonged to everyone present.
Including Mikomaru and Minasho—if this figure hadn’t spoken, none of them would have sensed his presence.
“Your… Your Majesty!!”
Houston was the first to recover.
The newcomer was, of course, the leader of the Quincy—Yhwach.
Yhwach glanced at Edrick’s bisected corpse on the ground, the corner of his mouth curling up slightly.
“Well done, Houston. And Edrick, as well.”
It was the first time he’d heard His Majesty’s praise. In all his time as a Quincy, even as the seventh captain of the Silver Cross Knights, he’d never heard it before, had never even seen his monarch smile.
Today, he had lost.
So why did His Majesty smile? Why praise him?
A blinding white flash streaked before his eyes—he hadn’t even seen Yhwach move.
Blood spurted forth—a deep, bone-baring wound now slashed across his body.
“Your Ma…”
He didn’t have time to ask why, nor could he even touch the hem of his sovereign’s cloak at his feet.
His swiftly fading life allowed for no such gestures.
Ah, so that’s how it is…
Just as I thought, after all?
A pawn with no further use can be discarded so decisively…
Yet I hold no hatred.
It must be this way—only this way…
You must win…
Darkness engulfed him, cold seeping into his every limb.
My king…
Life ends here.
Before anyone could recover from the shock of the man’s sudden appearance, Houston had already been killed in an instant.
“You…”
“Well then…”
Minasho had just opened her mouth, but the man cut her off without mercy.
“It’s time I attend to my own affairs. As for you two…”
Half of Yhwach’s face was suddenly shrouded in darkness; with a cold, twisted smile, he gripped his brand-new blade.
“You can die here.”
…
“What… on earth happened here?”
Kirinji clenched a blade of grass between his teeth, his gaze falling on a certain Reaper beside him.
“Th-this…”
Though Kirinji hadn’t released any spiritual pressure, the Shinigami beside him could clearly sense a kind of presence bearing down upon him—a swirling darkness that threatened to swallow him whole.
The reason for Kirinji’s somber mood was simple.
Before him lay Minasho, grievously wounded, a horrific circular hole in her chest.
“How is she, Master Kirinji?” Choujiro asked nervously.
Even with Kirinji’s addition, the Thirteen Court Guard Squads were still short two captains. Now Minasho had returned critically injured, and Mikomaru was nowhere to be found, meaning they might soon be down two more captains.
At this rate, it would not be long before the Thirteen Court Guard Squads dissolved on their own.
“She’ll live, but like the last two…”
Kirinji placed his hand above Minasho’s wound. He was so grave he even forgot his habitual “oh” at the end of his sentences.
“She’s lost the qualifications to continue as a captain.”
“…!”
“And furthermore…”
Kirinji cut Choujiro off before he could speak, continuing, “It’s clear from the wound that both Mikomaru’s and the Quincy’s spiritual pressure are present.”
“Mikomaru… and the Quincy…”
Choujiro was stunned. He could understand if there were only Quincy spiritual pressure, but why would Mikomaru’s be there as well?
“Most likely…”
Kirinji paused, then said, “The Quincy’s attack must have pierced through Mikomaru’s body before injuring Minasho.”
“…!”
Such ferocity!
Others might not know, but as Yamamoto’s right-hand man, Choujiro understood well what kind of strength Mikomaru possessed.
His blade—“Caged Earth”—was a purely defensive Zanpakuto, yet with it he had earned the title of “Kenpachi.” That alone spoke volumes about Mikomaru’s might.
And yet, this man, inheritor of the strongest “Kenpachi” name and master of defense, had his body pierced by a Quincy attack…
Only one man could accomplish such a feat.
Choujiro was now certain who it was.
But why had he acted personally? Wasn’t a task like this meant for the Silver Cross Knights…?
“Whatever the case, the enemy seems formidable.”
“Eh?”
Lost in thought, Choujiro looked at Kirinji, surprised.
What was that sensation?
It was as if a sleeping lion had suddenly lifted its head, sensing another lion just before it.
A dense, burning will to fight.
“Master Kirinji…”
Choujiro called out in concern.
“No need to worry, Choujiro.”
Kirinji raised a hand to hold him back, biting down on his blade of grass.
“I’m not just about ‘hot springs,’ you know. If I’m serious, healing is only a secondary talent.”
From somewhere, Kirinji produced a sword and slowly slid it into the sash at his waist.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve picked up this name again…”
He draped a white haori, emblazoned with the number “Eight,” over his shoulders like a cloak.
“Time to move out…”
Like a war god, Kirinji stood, though the scent about him was wholly at odds with his fierce aura.
“‘Lightning Swift’ Tenshirou.”