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Chapter 292 B
🕑 Added 2025-03-19 16:00:17 +0000 UTCChapter 292
2-in-1 chapter:
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“Uh…”
Hearing Kaelith’s response, Ichibē Hyōsube froze for a moment. Then he shook his head with a smile.
“All right then, come on in.”
With that, he opened the door and walked inside. Kaelith followed.
Ichibē’s dojo was very much like Genryūsai Yamamoto’s in style—traditional and rustic. If you had to compare, Yamamoto’s side felt more purely Japanese, whereas Ichibē’s had a slight Chinese flair.
“Have a seat anywhere. I’m not a fan of chairs; I usually sit on the floor.”
Rocking his hefty frame, the bald monk plopped down cross-legged on the tatami. Once Kaelith was seated, Ichibē gave him a grin.
“Let me guess…before you came here, a bunch of people probably warned you to be careful—like ‘Don’t say anything you shouldn’t,’ ‘Don’t do anything out of line,’ that kind of thing?”
“Yes,” Kaelith replied. “So, Roshi, do you think they were right?”
It took Ichibē half a second to recall that “Roshi” nickname Kaelith had once used for him. He merely smiled.
“They’re both right and wrong,” he said. “Kaelith, I’ve lived for a very long time—far longer than you can imagine. For humans, a Shinigami living hundreds or even thousands of years is already a huge gap. But I’ve been alive for a million years.
“Even your teacher, Genryūsai Yamamoto, is merely a tiny ripple in the endless river of history to me. That river is important, but still just a single ripple, a few drops of water, hardly matter. Add a few drops, it’s still a river; lose a few drops, it’s still a river.
“No matter a person’s temperament—fiery or composed—they aren’t going to rage at a few drops in a river. So even the Zero Division Captains, or Yamamoto himself, can only understand me in the most superficial sense. Their warnings to you aren’t surprising—they’re based on what they’re able to comprehend, producing the conclusion they shared.
“That’s all there is to it.”
Kaelith raised his eyebrows. “From what you’re saying, it seems you don’t intend to treat your fellow Zero Division members as equals?”
Ichibē shook his head. “Equality is a false notion in the first place. Among the Zero Division, aside from me, Nimaiya Ōetsu has lived the longest, so naturally we share more common ground. As for the others, the oldest among them has only been here for around a thousand years.
“Even if I wanted to chat with them all day every day—what would we talk about? Think of it in a simpler way: if you’re dealing with a kid in their early teens, you might care for them deeply, but at most you’ll spend a little time playing or discuss the trivial things in their life. If you tried to share your deeper insights—your understanding of power, your new techniques—how much would they truly grasp?
“The more you engage, the more you realize it’s pointless. It’s not discrimination. There’s simply no need for excessive interaction. That’s how I view those younger recruits…and all of you Shinigami.”
Kaelith frowned, mulling this over. In daily life, he’d never really felt such a gap. He could chat with Aizen Sōsuke or Kisuke Urahara for hours, perfectly at ease. If anything, Aizen would often slip away after a few words.
Wait—could it be they thought talking to him was like talking to a child?
Ridiculous. Impossible!
He was, after all, the wisest man in the Soul Society!
Kaelith took a deep breath, pushing aside any urge to murder Urahara on the spot, then looked back at Ichibē.
“Keep going.”
“Oh…oh.”
Ichibē seemed slightly taken aback, then nodded. He couldn’t help wondering if he’d said something offensive just now—Kaelith’s sudden aura of killing intent was no joke.
Crossing his arms, Ichibē went on: “Anyway, my point is simple: I don’t want to involve myself too deeply in most matters anymore. I’ve experienced all sorts of emotions and situations in my first ten thousand years of life. The hundred-some ten-thousands of years since have all been repetition. Even the most ardent lover of living would be tired by now.
“For me, only two things warrant true vigilance:
“One: Someone tries to threaten the very foundation of this world—namely the Soul King.
“Two: Someone who might not necessarily harbor such intentions but has the ability to do so.
“And Kaelith, you’re the second type right now. I won’t mince words.”
He lifted a thick finger, pointing at Kaelith.
“You possess at least two types of power that I cannot discern. Do you realize what that implies?”
Kaelith froze. Two types?
One, he knew, came from Yingda, his shadow blade—an outworldly power formed from external pollution cast out by the Soul King. It made sense that Ichibē, a being born within this world, couldn’t fathom such an ability.
But what was the second one? Rixiang Jimie? The power to shatter any defense? Both were forces existing inside this world. Ichibē should be able to name them.
Unless…he was referring to Kaelith’s own peerless intellect?
Kaelith’s eyes gleamed in excitement. Finally, someone recognized his genius?
While Kaelith basked in that thought, Ichibē continued, “I am the one who names all things in this world. In principle, no power can hide from me. Even if the user themselves is clueless about it, I can still reveal its name.
“You, however, possess powers I cannot identify, making you extremely dangerous to this world. If I were the version of myself from several hundred thousand years ago, I’d have obliterated you the moment I discovered that.
“But as I said, I’ve grown weary of meddling. So let me ask you directly, Kaelith Yurei: do you bear any ill will toward the Soul King?”
At that final question, Ichibē’s monstrous aura burst forth. A menacing presence loomed behind him like a ravenous demon, glaring at its prey. Most would cower under such crushing pressure, blurting out whatever secrets they held.
Kaelith, however, stood his ground, gazing steadily at the monk.
At this point, running was no option. Lying might work, but even if he managed to fool Ichibē for now, he’d be under permanent surveillance afterward. A lie or the truth—there would be no real difference once he was constantly watched.
Besides, Aizen’s grand plan always placed Kaelith in front, as if he were the leader. Aizen disliked being in the spotlight, so he’d purposely pushed Kaelith forward—also an expression of trust. If Kaelith cowered now, there’d be no way he could maintain Aizen’s respect…no dignity to stand by him.
Under Ichibē’s intense stare, Kaelith undid his collar, revealing a flame-shaped tattoo. He pressed a hand against it, using Yingda’s power to seal off its detection capabilities. The alert mechanism Genryūsai Yamamoto had placed on him would be temporarily neutralized.
After finishing that, he bared his teeth in a grin. “Yes. I want to overthrow the Soul King. After that, I’ll…ahem. I’ll become the Soul King myself—stand at the apex of the heavens!
“All the nonsense about you naming everything in existence, all these archaic nobles clinging to their withered traditions…I’m going to wipe them clean from this world!”
With that, Kaelith flung aside his Captain’s haori, ready to fight. To his surprise, Ichibē merely sat there, eyeing him with an odd expression, as though unsure what to say.
He gave Kaelith a strange grin. “You want to be the Soul King?”
“…Yes. Is that a problem?”
“Well…it definitely poses issues, but…ahem.”
Slowly rising, Ichibē rubbed his face, forcibly smoothing out the laugh that threatened to show. Only after some effort did he regain a serious demeanor.
“Enough talk. Since we’ve come this far, let’s see if your strength matches your words!”
He reached out, aiming to grab Kaelith’s shoulder. Kaelith dodged in a flash.
“Huh?”
Seeing his grab miss, Ichibē’s eyes narrowed. In the next moment, he pounced like a caged tiger unleashed, lunging once more.
Kaelith instinctively retreated—but this time, despite moving a good distance, he found Ichibē’s fingertips brushing his shoulder at the last moment.
Smack!
Ichibē seized his shoulder, and a tremendous force surged forth. The scenery blurred, and suddenly Kaelith found himself atop a mountain peak, far from the dojo.
Releasing his grip, Ichibē flickered several yards away, facing Kaelith from a distance.
“Come, brat. Show me how far Genryūsai Yamamoto’s disciple can push me!”
He grinned, beckoning Kaelith forward.
Kaelith frowned, not out of fear for Ichibē’s power—he’d known a gap existed between him and the Royal Guard. What puzzled him was Ichibē’s shifting attitude.
Right when Kaelith admitted he planned to overthrow the Soul King, Ichibē had unleashed an overwhelming killing intent, fiercer than anything Kaelith had felt, before it abruptly vanished. The hostility remained, but nowhere near as intense as that initial rage—more like someone regarding a criminal than a hated enemy.
Which part of that conversation had changed his perspective? Kaelith couldn’t figure it out. He just memorized every word he’d spoken, planning to let Aizen figure it out if he survived.
All Kaelith needed to do was ensure he made it out alive.
His eyes narrowed as he launched himself at Ichibē, fists cocked back in a bow-like stance—
“Triple Dou—San Sōkotsu!”
Both fists unleashed Second Bone strikes, combined with Yingda’s third layer of impact. Six streams of power flowed in precise unison—a fraction off, and it would collapse entirely.
Boom!!!
A massive shockwave radiated out from Ichibē’s domain, ripping outward in all directions.
All across the Royal Palace, people felt the disturbance.
“They’re fighting after all?!”
Senjumaru Shutara frowned. She was the second to join the Royal Guard after ascending from the Soul Society and still held deep affection for her former home. Worriedly, she considered rushing over.
She’d never witnessed Ichibē truly fight before, but her intuition told her he was unimaginably strong. Among the Soul Society’s highest echelons, there was a saying: “The Zero Division alone surpasses the entire Gotei 13.”
In reality, you could tweak that phrase: Ichibē Hyōsube alone surpasses all the Gotei 13 plus the rest of the Zero Division. Even Genryūsai Yamamoto had never given her the same sense of absolute suppression Ichibē did. It was no longer a question of who was stronger—Ichibē’s very existence crushed others.
“That idiot. I warned him not to do this!” Senjumaru groaned. Just as she hesitated, Kirio Hikifune’s reiatsu flared as she raced over.
Realizing her former comrade had taken the lead, Senjumaru shut her eyes in resignation.
“All right, if we’re going to die, we die. After the Soul King’s modifications, maybe we can be revived…if Ichibē allows it.”
Gritting her teeth, she bolted off toward the battlefield.
Meanwhile, at Kirinji’s palace, Kirinji Tenjirō stood on the roof, gawking at the spiritual pressure waves in the distance.
“That brat is actually fighting Ichibē?! He’s done for! There won’t even be a corpse left!”
Beside him, Shinji Hirako suppressed the urge to cover his ears at Kirinji’s booming voice—like a fishmonger in a busy market. But inside, Shinji was every bit as stunned.
On his first day in the Royal Palace, Ichibē had privately summoned him. That night, the monk had cornered him and asked, point blank:
“Captain Hirako, if there’s someone in the Soul Society who, in the future, might destroy it entirely, who do you think it is?”
Shinji had been taken aback. Before he could answer, Ichibē continued:
“Don’t bother with ‘there’s nobody like that’ or ‘I have no idea.’ I want a name.”
Who’d be most likely to destroy the Soul Society? Well, the one causing the biggest stir these past years was undoubtedly Kaelith. And if someone had enough power to overturn the Soul Society, it would again be Kaelith—his Eleventh Division was stronger than humanly imaginable, and those monstrous subordinates were absurdly loyal.
Shinji had no doubt that if Kaelith ever rallied them, the entire squad would wreak havoc. Still, Shinji never believed Kaelith truly wanted the Soul Society’s downfall.
After a lengthy pause, Shinji shook his head. “Even if you don’t want me to say it, I can only give this answer: that person doesn’t exist.”
Ichibē nodded thoughtfully. “All right. But if the Soul Society absolutely had to have one person who could do it…someone closest to that possibility…who would it be?”
What kind of question was that? Shinji frowned. Ichibē patted his shoulder.
“No need to be anxious. It’s all hypothetical—a joke, really. In one ear and out the other, so to speak. You don’t think I’d dash into the Soul Society to arrest someone based on a single comment, do you?”
That logic was hard to refute. Shinji scratched his head. Even so, he still couldn’t think of anyone. Then suddenly, a name flashed in his mind. He clicked his tongue.
“Well, it’s nowhere near destroying the Soul Society, but if anyone’s hiding their true nature best, it’s my Lieutenant…Sōsuke Aizen. If he ever had a compelling reason, I guess he wouldn’t lose any sleep over large-scale chaos. But I doubt he’s that extreme—he’s got a few friends, at least.”
Ichibē merely hummed and nodded. “Understood. Then when you return to the Soul Society, keep an eye on that Lieutenant. Oh, and keep an eye on Kaelith, too.”
“Huh?” Shinji frowned. “You don’t seriously think that kid would destroy the Soul Society, do you?”
Ichibē wasn’t offended by Shinji’s bluntness. He just shook his head. “No, no. I’m just curious about him.”
Not fully grasping the monk’s intentions, Shinji agreed anyway. Back in the Soul Society, he could do as he pleased.
Now, recalling that conversation, Shinji couldn’t help but wonder—Ichibē had said he was only curious, so why was he fighting Kaelith outright?
Scratching his head, Shinji muttered, “I hope the Captain-Commander left some contingency in place…”
