[Bleach: The Invincible Slacker] Chapter 36 - 40

Chapter 36: Special Mission, Searching for the Forest of Menos

The Shinigami nearby exchanged doubtful glances when they heard Uehara Shiroha’s bold declaration.

Though his reputation preceded him, many still found it hard to believe.

Unlike Kenpachi Zaraki and the Shinigamis of the 11th Division, whose battle-hardened aura oozed unrestrained bloodlust, Uehara Shiroha’s presence was… refined.

Too refined.

He lacked the sheer domineering pressure that Shinigamis like Kenpachi exuded effortlessly.

Was he just boasting?

The Shinigami of the 11th Division were the first to voice their skepticism.

A group of battle-crazed Shinigamis, they had no filter and little patience for anyone they deemed unworthy.

"That pretty boy? A deputy leader? Hah!" One of them scoffed. "Captain Zaraki should be the one in charge!"

"Damn right!" another added. "Zaraki Kenpachi is the strongest! He should be the chief commander!"

"The only one worthy of leading us is Captain Zaraki!"

Their voices rang loud and clear, filled with unabashed disdain for Uehara Shiroha.

However, just as their jeers continued, a cold voice cut through the chatter like a sharpened blade.

"Don’t blame me for not warning you," said Madarame Ikkaku, his tone laced with displeasure. "If you know what’s good for you, keep your mouths shut about Uehara Shiroha."

The rowdy Shinigamis turned toward him in confusion.

Ikkaku narrowed his eyes, his expression grim.

"From now on, stay as far away from him as possible. If you keep spouting that nonsense, I won’t be the one pulling your bodies out of a river of blood."

His words carried the weight of experience—a lesson learned the hard way.

He still remembered his own defeat.

If Uehara Shiroha was weak, then what did that make him?

A helpless infant?

Beside him, Ayasegawa Yumichika folded his arms and added, "Speaking ill of others behind their backs is not beautiful. And the 11th Division doesn’t need ugly-hearted members."

His words, spoken with elegant finality, left the group speechless.

Meanwhile, Kenpachi Zaraki had already charged ahead, rushing into the desert with reckless enthusiasm. His bloodthirsty laugh echoed in the distance, growing fainter as he ventured further into the unknown.

Behind them, rows of temporary military camps stood tall, surrounded by formidable barriers—a symbol of the Gotei 13’s foothold in this foreign land.

Temporary Headquarters of the Expeditionary Force

Inside the main tent, Uehara Shiroha and Ise Nanao entered.

"Honestly," Kyoraku Shunsui sighed, rubbing his chin. "You should’ve stayed in Soul Society, Nanao-chan."

His tone was half-joking, half-serious.

Ise Nanao pursed her lips. She had expected this argument.

But before she could respond, Uehara Shiroha smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh? That’s interesting," he said. "Because I distinctly remember you being the one laughing the loudest when the old man threw me into the fire."

Kyoraku chuckled sheepishly but didn’t deny it.

The sudden appointment of Uehara Shiroha as Deputy Commander had even caught him off guard.

It was an unorthodox move.

While the current Gotei 13 was far more structured than its bloodstained past, it was still, at its core, a military force.

Power determined status.

If Uehara Shiroha failed to prove himself, this title of "Deputy Commander" would become a death sentence rather than an honor.

He would sink under the weight of expectation, dragged down by the daggers of those who saw him unfit.

"Even I was surprised by your appointment," Kyoraku admitted. "Old Man Yama must really think highly of you. Who knows? Maybe I’ll have to start following your orders someday, Brother Shiroha."

Uehara Shiroha’s gaze flickered with amusement.

"If that happens," he said, "you’ll suffer."

Kyoraku let out a soft chuckle, but there was an undeniable truth in Uehara’s words.

Shifting the conversation, Uehara glanced at the spiritual barriers surrounding the camp.

"The spirit particle density here is much higher than in Soul Society," he observed. "Our strength gets a boost, and the barrier’s defense is also stronger."

But then his expression turned more serious.

"That said, this is still Hueco Mundo." He glanced at Kyoraku. "What’s the game plan, General Commander?"

Originally, Uehara Shiroha had no intention of being this proactive.

But if leading meant faster power growth, strengthening his [Universal Barrier], and expanding his divine influence, then he might as well play along.

Kyoraku, for once, answered seriously.

"The Stealth Force’s vanguard team has already been deployed. Our next move is to follow the strategic plan."

It was the safest and most calculated approach.

In enemy territory, reckless tactics only led to disaster.

This was something both men agreed on.

Uehara Shiroha had zero interest in foolish strategies about "overcoming the strong with the weak."

Pure, overwhelming force—that was the true path to victory.

With that discussion concluded, Uehara stretched.

"Excuse me. Goodbye."

And just like that, his brief moment of enthusiasm for strategy vanished.

Before Kyoraku could react, Uehara was already walking away.

Ise Nanao, who had been diligently recording their conversation, scrambled to pack up her notes.

"Captain! I’m leaving too! Mr. Uehara, wait for me!"

Kyoraku’s expression darkened.

Left alone with nothing but paperwork, he sighed heavily.

"...There’s only endless work, no fine wine, and no beautiful women." He stared at the towering stack of documents on his desk.

"When will this nightmare end?"

Out in the Hueco Mundo wasteland, Ise Nanao hurried after Uehara Shiroha.

"Wait for me—!"

But before she could reach him—

Zzzt!

A bolt of white lightning flashed past her, striking the stone pillar beside her with a deafening crack.

The pillar shattered instantly, crumbling into a pile of debris.

"Wha—?!" Nanao gasped, startled. "M-Mr. Uehara?"

Did she do something wrong?

Had she angered him?

She quickly lowered her head. "I—I’m sorry if I—"

But before she could finish—

An ominous, heavy pressure filled the air.

From the pile of shattered stone, a white mask emerged—revealing a hidden Hollow that had been camouflaged within the pillar.

A chaotic, twisted spiritual pressure spread outward, its presence suffocating.

Within seconds, the creature dissolved into spiritual particles, completely eradicated by Uehara’s Kido.

Nanao stood frozen.

If Uehara hadn’t noticed it, she would have walked right past that Hollow—completely unaware.

"From now on," Uehara said coolly, "be wary of things that don’t move. If something feels off, don’t hesitate—destroy it."

His tone was calm, but his words carried weight.

This wasn’t just advice.

It was a lesson.

"Yes, Mr. Uehara!" Nanao responded, her eyes filled with renewed determination.

As the two traveled deeper into the vast desert, they encountered more traces of Hueco Mundo’s eerie ecology.

It wasn’t as lifeless as it seemed.

Some tiny creatures, barely noticeable, scurried between rock crevices and shifting sands.

Even these smallest of life forms bore Hollow masks—proof of their cursed existence.

Nanao’s eyes widened when she spotted a peculiar structure in the distance.

"...There are trees here?"

Uehara’s gaze sharpened.

"That’s not a tree," he muttered. "That’s a branch."

Just then—

A message appeared before his eyes.

【Special Mission #9: Searching for The Forest of Menos】
Objective: Explore the depths of Hueco Mundo’s mysterious Menos Forest and witness the legendary "Giant Clown."
Reward: A random ability or item.

Uehara’s lips curled into a smirk.

"Looks like we have a destination."

Chapter 37: The Hollows attack, and the 11th Division is caught in a tough battle

Uehara Shiroha had anticipated that he might trigger a special mission upon arriving in Hueco Mundo.

After all, this realm was a crucial part of the world of Bleach—a place filled with powerful Hollows and secrets waiting to be uncovered.

However, what he hadn’t expected was that the mission would be triggered through Ise Nanao.

Glancing at her with a subtle expression, Uehara Shiroha raised an eyebrow.

‘Could this literary girl really be a walking luck magnet?’

Though the thought was amusing, he quickly dismissed it.

Regardless of how it happened, a special mission was always a welcome opportunity.

Noticing his gaze, Ise Nanao tilted her head in confusion.

"Why did you say this is a branch?" she asked, looking at the strange stone-like tree in front of them.

Uehara Shiroha, still in a good mood, patiently explained.

"Hueco Mundo is actually divided into two layers—the surface and the underground," he began.

"The surface is the vast desert we’re standing in, populated mainly by small Hollows. But beneath this sand lies an immense underground forest—a place known as The Forest of Menos."

Ise Nanao’s expression shifted as she processed this information.

"In this Forest of Menos, there are countless Gillians—as well as massive stone trees that stretch endlessly. Their branches and roots grow upwards, breaking through the surface of the desert to form these structures."

She swallowed, a sense of unease creeping over her. "Forest of Menos? Teacher Uehara… is this the same Great Hollow I’m thinking of?"

She had only seen illustrations of Gillian-class Menos in her textbooks at the Shin’ō Academy of Spiritual Arts.

Those books stated that only captains or the Royal Special Forces could handle such monsters.

If that was true…

Then weren’t they in extreme danger?

Uehara Shiroha shook his head, a small smirk forming on his lips.

"Those books are ancient relics," he scoffed. "Outdated—just like Captain Yamamoto."

Ise Nanao's eyes widened in shock at the casual insult toward the Captain-Commander. But before she could speak, Uehara continued.

"‘It’s better to have no books than to blindly believe in them.’ You’ll understand when you experience it for yourself."

She frowned, sensing the underlying message.

The academy's textbooks were designed to instill fear—likely to prevent students from underestimating Hollows and charging into battle recklessly.

However, the claim that only captains could fight Gillians was an exaggeration.

"The truth is," Uehara continued, "a Vice-Captain-class Shinigami can take down a Gillian. If you count Vice-Captains as captains, then the academy’s statement isn’t completely wrong."

Ise Nanao hesitated, but before she could respond, a third voice joined the conversation.

"Well, you’re about to experience it firsthand."

The voice was calm yet sharp.

Both Uehara and Nanao turned to see Kyoraku Shunsui, standing beside them silently.

His usual laid-back demeanor was gone, replaced by seriousness.

"The Intelligence Team just sent an emergency message," Kyoraku said in a low tone. "They were attacked by Hollows and are requesting support."

His eyes darkened slightly.

"Looks like we aren’t welcome here."

Uehara Shiroha let out a small chuckle, completely unfazed.

"In that case," he said, stretching lazily, "I guess I’ll go greet them properly."

Without waiting for further orders, he turned and began walking toward the source of the disturbance—toward the abnormal Reiatsu fluctuations in the distance.

"Nanao, let's go."

Ise Nanao followed without hesitation.

But as they drew closer, the oppressive spiritual pressure in the air grew heavier.

It was chaotic, overwhelming, suffocating.

The dense malicious aura surrounding them felt like a predator’s hunger—an insatiable craving for flesh and souls.

Ise Nanao’s breathing grew uneven.

Her steps faltered.

Her mind filled with terrifying images—the horrors she had read about in books.

Hollows devouring Shinigami alive.
Shinigami being absorbed into a collective mass of monsters, never to be seen again.

Her body felt heavy—her limbs sluggish.

She was paralyzed.

Uehara Shiroha’s voice snapped her out of it.

"If you’re scared, you can go back," he said, his voice completely unemotional.

There was no mockery.
No reassurance.
No kindness.

It was a simple statement of fact.

The only way to overcome fear was to face it.

For a moment, Ise Nanao hesitated.

Then, she clenched her fists and took a deep breath.

"I will always follow your footsteps, Mr. Uehara. I will not fall behind—not even a step."

Uehara Shiroha nodded slightly.

"Good," he said. "But it’s not enough to ignore fear."

He glanced at her with sharp eyes.

"I want you to face it head-on."

Before Ise Nanao could process his words, they arrived at the edge of a battlefield.

The sight before them was chaos.

In the valley beyond the rolling sand dunes, a fierce battle was raging.

A squad of 11th Division Shinigami fought desperately against three towering monsters.

Each of the creatures stood over a hundred meters tall, their cloaked bodies draped in shadows.

Their clown-like white masks—grotesque and unnatural—marked them as Gillian-class Menos.

Hundreds of smaller Hollows swarmed around them, further dividing the battlefield into scattered skirmishes.

Madarame Ikkaku and Ayasegawa Yumichika were at the frontlines.

Ikkaku, his Zanpakutō released, fought relentlessly.

Though Hōzukimaru lacked raw power, Ikkaku’s combat expertise compensated for its shortcomings.

Against smaller Hollows, he cut them down like weeds.

But against the towering Gillians?

Even he struggled.

His expression tightened.

"Damn it…" he muttered. "Captain Zaraki already took out their leader, so what the hell are we wasting time here for?!"

He turned toward his comrades, shouting:

"Stop holding back! We don’t have time for this crap—fight harder! If any of you slack off, I’ll kill you myself!"

Ayasegawa Yumichika, while fighting beside him, commented dryly:

"I understand your frustration, but why are these things so ugly?" He scowled at the massive masks. "These clowns are ruining my sense of aesthetic balance."

Despite his lighthearted words, his gaze remained sharp.

He had already noticed something off.

‘Their Hierro (iron skin) is stronger than usual.’

‘And their regeneration speed… it's too fast.’

The battle was dragging out, turning into a war of attrition.

In the distance, the Noble Intelligence Team—the ones who had sent the distress signal—were already dead.

They had been wiped out entirely.

But their sacrifice wasn’t in vain.

At the very least, they had bought time for the expeditionary force.

Chapter 38: The Forest of Menos, the Terrifying Red Void Flash

On a sand dune overlooking the battlefield, Uehara Shiroha gazed indifferently at the 11th Division Shinigami struggling against the three Great Hollows. Their blades clashed against the towering creatures, barely holding their ground.

Without shifting his stance, he turned slightly toward Ise Nanao. "Go support them," he commanded.

"Understood, Mr. Uehara!" Nanao responded without hesitation, immediately rushing toward the battlefield.

She descended onto the sands below, clutching her book tightly.

Madarame Ikkaku, the bald-headed Shinigami of the 11th Division, slashed viciously at the Hollow’s feet with his Zanpakutō, Hōzukimaru, carving deep gashes into its grotesque limbs. He let out a hearty laugh before glancing at Nanao, his eyes filled with amusement.

"This is the support from the Eighth Division? A woman, without even a sword, just holding a book?" He scoffed, dodging a claw swipe from the Hollow. "What are you gonna do? Read it to them? Maybe bore them to death?"

The surrounding 11th Division members chuckled at his remark.

Once, such words might have shaken Nanao. Standing before these monstrous Hollows on a battlefield drenched in chaos would have been enough to paralyze her with fear.

But now, she was different.

Trained under Uehara Shiroha’s guidance, Nanao ignored the jeers and calmly channeled her spiritual pressure. Without hesitation, she extended her palm forward, incanting with unwavering resolve.

"Hado Number Fifty-Eight: Tenran!"

A fierce whirlwind erupted from her fingertips, the turbulent winds twisting into a violent storm.

She didn’t stop at just one.

"Tenran!"

"Tenran!"

Three powerful gusts converged, merging into a massive tornado that roared across the battlefield. The swirling winds lifted sand, debris, and even some lesser Hollows, sweeping them into the air. The powerful storm struck the towering Gillian’s legs, sending tremors through its massive body.

The force wasn't enough to destroy it outright—but it was enough to make it stumble.

The Gillian lost its balance and crashed to the ground with an earth-shaking impact.

"Nice work!" Ikkaku grinned as he dashed forward, his eyes burning with battle lust. "Hōzukimaru, pierce him!"

The Shinigami of the 11th Division seized the opportunity, unleashing a barrage of relentless slashes at the Hollow’s fallen form. Their blades flashed in the dim light, striking with all the force they could muster. Their veins bulged from exertion, their spiritual pressure surging with every strike.

A moment later—

Crack!

The Gillian’s mask shattered into pieces, its body dissipating into Reiatsu.

Cheers erupted from the 11th Division.

Despite their initial skepticism, their gazes toward Nanao had changed. They still disdained the reliance on Kido over raw swordsmanship, but they couldn’t deny the effectiveness of her magic.

She had proven herself.

"The last one..." Nanao muttered, exhaling deeply as she wiped sweat from her brow.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly. The battle had drained her significantly. Kido was powerful, but against creatures of this scale, the strain on her spiritual pressure was immense.

Battling such enormous foes wasn’t just physically exhausting—it was mentally taxing as well.

"Not bad for a woman," one of the Shinigami muttered, giving her a nod of approval.

"What's your name, kid?" another asked.

Nanao offered them a small, polite smile, responding with nothing more than a dip of her head.

But before she could catch her breath, a chilling sensation crawled up her spine.

She turned sharply.

Uehara Shiroha was gone.

Her heart clenched.

Had he been disappointed? Had she failed to meet his expectations?

Her thoughts were cut short when a sudden boom echoed across the dunes.

Her expression froze.

A massive shadow loomed over them, stretching across the battlefield like a tidal wave of darkness.

"What the—?" Ayasegawa Yumichika followed her gaze, his usual composed expression shifting to one of disbelief. "Wait... how—?"

Madarame Ikkaku’s narrow eyes widened as well. "No way..."

All around them—emerging from beneath the shifting sands—Gillian after Gillian began to rise.

Dozens of them.

Their grotesque, masked faces peered down at the Shinigami, their massive forms blotting out the dim crescent moon above.

“There must be at least fifty of them!” Ikkaku hissed. His grip tightened around his Zanpakutō. "Damn it... We barely survived three of them, but fifty—?”

A ripple of panic spread through the lower-ranked Shinigami.

Some trembled, falling to their knees.

"It's over… We're dead..."

"We can’t win against that many…"

"Captain Zaraki—please come save us!"

In the expeditionary force’s temporary headquarters, Kyōraku Shunsui’s relaxed demeanor vanished.

His expression darkened.

"A trap," he murmured.

He hadn't expected the Hollows to strategize—to bait them into a confrontation, only to ambush them with overwhelming numbers.

Without hesitation, he issued an urgent order. "Send word to Suì-Fēng—get the Second Division here now!"

He clenched his fists. He couldn't leave his post. Not yet.

All he could do was pray.

"Please, Shiroha… Get Nanao out of there. Don’t let me down."

Back on the battlefield, Nanao struggled to breathe. The sheer pressure exuded by the gathered Hollows suffocated the air itself.

She willed herself to stay strong.

"I won’t disappoint you, Mr. Uehara…"

Yumichika sighed, his usual obsession with beauty overshadowed by grim resignation.

"Dying like this is hardly beautiful," he muttered. Then, with a smirk, he added, "But I suppose I don’t mind dying alongside you all."

Ikkaku let out a sharp exhale. "Damn shame... If only I had fully mastered it—" he glanced at Hōzukimaru, frustration flickering in his gaze. Then, he smirked.

"But we ain't going down easy. Let's fight till the last damn breath!"

The Shinigami readied themselves for a desperate stand.

Then—

Someone moved.

A lone figure stepped forward.

He wore a Shinigami’s uniform, but his presence eclipsed the battlefield itself.

He stood at the front, between the Shinigami and the overwhelming horde of Hollows.

A single man.

A single sword.

Compared to the towering Gillians, his figure seemed minuscule.

But his aura—his spiritual pressure—surged skyward like a roaring inferno, piercing the heavens themselves.

The air cracked under the weight of it.

Even the Hollows hesitated.

Some flinched.

Yet, an unspoken command rippled through their ranks, compelling them forward. The Gillians raised their heads, their mouths opening wide.

A wave of Ceros—burning, destructive energy—charged at the figure all at once.

The night itself seemed to shrink away in fear.

The crescent moon in the sky vanished behind the ominous glow.

And then—

The world erupted in blinding, crimson light.

Chapter 39: Instant Kill of Fifty Menos Grande

Ise Nanao was the first to recognize the figure standing against the incoming Cero barrage. Her eyes widened in panic, and she shouted desperately, "Teacher Uehara! It's dangerous! Get out of the way!"

Her voice was filled with urgency, but her words were swallowed by the roaring energy of the approaching blasts.

Madarame Ikkaku snapped his head up, eyes narrowing as he recognized the lone figure standing firm before the oncoming wave of destruction. "Uehara… Uehara Shiroha!" His breath hitched as a cold shiver ran down his spine.

Memories of their past encounter resurfaced, of the bone-chilling sensation that had nearly frozen his very soul.

"What the hell is that guy thinking!?" he muttered, his throat suddenly dry.

"Is he trying to take on fifty Hollows alone?" Ayasegawa Yumichika asked, his usually composed voice uncharacteristically shaken. He frowned and shook his head. "No… Even with a permanent-release Zanpakutō, there's no way he can handle so many at once. I get it now—he’s sacrificing himself to give us a chance to break through."

The logic was sound.

The only possible reason for such reckless action… was a selfless one.

"I want to go with him!" Nanao cried, tears streaming down her face. She tried to move forward, to reach her teacher, but her body wouldn't cooperate.

Her exhaustion weighed down on her like an anchor. The overwhelming spiritual pressure of the Great Hollows made every step feel like wading through a crushing tide. Her limbs trembled, and her breath came out in ragged gasps, but she clenched her fists.

I can’t… let him face this alone!

Meanwhile, Ikkaku stood frozen, his hands trembling slightly as he tightened his grip on Hōzukimaru. His voice wavered with uncharacteristic emotion.

"All this time, I thought he was some heartless bastard…" He blinked rapidly, his vision blurring slightly. "Turns out… he’s a real man!"

At that moment, in Ikkaku’s mind, Uehara Shiroha’s figure towered over every Shinigami he had ever known. Though still incomparable to Captain Zaraki, Uehara’s sheer presence had surpassed everyone else he had ever fought.

The moment of admiration, however, was cut short—

Because the sky turned blood-red.

Dozens of Cero beams, charged with immense spiritual energy, fired simultaneously, engulfing Uehara Shiroha in an explosion of blinding crimson light.

The sheer force of the impact sent shockwaves rippling across the desert, causing the ground to tremble. Sand and debris blasted into the air, creating a massive dust storm that swallowed the battlefield.

The Shinigami shielded their eyes from the onslaught of wind and grit.

When the dust settled, all that remained was a smoking crater where Uehara Shiroha had stood.

A solemn silence hung in the air.

"The fool actually did it…" Yumichika whispered, his usual smirk absent.

"The gap is open! Run!" one of the 11th Division Shinigami yelled.

"Don't waste his sacrifice!" Yumichika echoed, his voice grim.

Shinigami turned and began sprinting toward the escape route, their faces a mix of fear and sorrow.

"Thank you, pretty boy!" someone shouted over their shoulder.

"Well done, Vice Commander!"

Some, however, had a different reaction.

Fueled by reckless rage, a few of the more battle-hungry Shinigami surged forward, rushing straight at the Killian that had just unleashed its Cero. Their blades flashed as they prepared to strike in a desperate counterattack.

Madarame Ikkaku, however, remained rooted in place, his red-rimmed eyes locked on the swirling dust cloud where Uehara Shiroha had been. His heart pounded violently in his chest.

A real Shinigami never dies kneeling.

They die standing.

Even after enduring the impossible… they remain standing.

Nanao could barely breathe. She clenched her trembling fists and forced her body to move, her legs burning with exhaustion. I have to reach him!

And then—

A gust of wind swept through the battlefield.

The dust cleared.

And standing in the center of the devastation—untouched—was Uehara Shiroha.

Nanao stopped dead in her tracks. Her breath caught in her throat.

Ikkaku and Yumichika's eyes widened in unison.

A deathly silence spread through the battlefield.

Uehara Shiroha stood unscathed, his robes immaculate, his silver hair flowing slightly in the night breeze. A thin, nearly transparent barrier of spiritual energy shimmered around him—Universal Barrier—his perfected defense. Not a single grain of sand had touched him.

Then, he slowly lifted his Zanpakutō.

A nearly transparent, diamond-shaped hilt gleamed in his hands as he gripped it tightly.

His voice was calm.

"Ice Age."

The temperature plummeted instantly.

A wave of absolute zero burst forth from Uehara, racing across the battlefield like an unseen storm.

The fifty towering Killians—each over a hundred meters tall—froze in an instant.

Crystallized mid-motion, they stood like massive ice sculptures, their bodies trapped in eternal stillness.

The light of the moon reflected off the frozen giants, casting an eerie yet mesmerizing glow across the desert. The battlefield, once a place of chaos, had been transformed into a frozen graveyard.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

No one moved.

It was as if time itself had frozen along with the Hollows.

Uehara Shiroha turned slightly, expecting the others to admire his handiwork. Surely, this display of artistry deserved some recognition? Soul Society needed to appreciate true beauty.

But when he turned…

He found everyone frozen in place.

Not literally.

But figuratively.

Madarame Ikkaku, Yumichika, and the remaining 11th Division Shinigami stood stiffly, their expressions blank. Their wide, disbelieving eyes locked onto him as if witnessing something incomprehensible.

If someone else had arrived at that moment, they might have mistaken the Shinigami for being frozen solid along with the Killians.

A long silence followed.

Then, finally—

Madarame Ikkaku broke it.

"...Am I dreaming?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yumichika inhaled sharply, his usually refined tone cracking. "No… it's real."

The two exchanged glances.

And in each other’s eyes, they saw the same thing—unparalleled shock and horror.

A single sword.

One attack.

Fifty Hollows—annihilated.

Is this even something a shinigamu can do?

Their thoughts swirled with disbelief.

Even Captains couldn’t do something like this… could they?

For a moment, Ikkaku felt a bead of sweat trail down his forehead. He had once challenged this man to a fight.

Just thinking about it made him feel like the biggest fool alive.

At least he was alive.

Fighting Uehara Shiroha might have been the second most glorious moment of his life.

The first? Fighting under Captain Zaraki.

Of course, neither he nor Yumichika dared to even question whether Captain Zaraki could do something like this.

Because they honestly didn’t know.

The rest of the 11th Division finally snapped out of their stupor.

Their reactions were… as expected.

They roared, pounding their chests in triumph.

"The Vice Commander is a monster!"

"Long live Uehara Shiroha!"

"He took down fifty Hollows in one hit!"

"Hey, wait—do you think Captain Zaraki could—?"

"If you dare to disrespect Captain Zaraki, I’ll make you commit seppuku!"

Meanwhile, Suì-Fēng, who had been rushing toward the battlefield, abruptly stopped in her tracks.

Her sharp eyes locked onto the towering ice sculptures in the distance.

Even frozen, the Killians exuded a suffocating pressure. The sight was both beautiful and utterly terrifying.

But compared to the man who had created them…

They were nothing.

Suì-Fēng’s expression darkened.

"What the hell is this man…?"

She had cursed Uehara Shiroha countless times before.

But this time…

It carried an entirely different meaning.

Chapter 40: Kenpachi, what is the difference between the king and the mount?

Amidst the sand dunes, Uehara Shiroha stood unmoving as the massive Hollow ice sculptures shattered into countless fragments.

The impact sent shimmering blue Reiatsu cascading through the air like a celestial snowfall, filling the battlefield with an eerie glow. The purified spirits, freed from their monstrous existence, began their journey back to Soul Society.

As a Shinigami, his duty was not just to slay but to purify—to cleanse the sins of lost souls. Even Hollows deserved that release.

His spiritual power surged as he absorbed the residual energy.

"This should be enough to increase my overall strength…"

Before, he had withstood the Cero of a low-tier Gillian. But now? Perhaps even the Cero of an Adjuchas—the mid-tier Menos Grande—wouldn’t be enough to harm him.

Just as he was contemplating this, a familiar voice broke through the silence.

"Mr. Uehara…!"

Ise Nanao rushed toward him, tears still brimming in her eyes.

Her emotions were in turmoil—not just from shock at his overwhelming power, but from the sheer relief of seeing him alive. Moments ago, she had truly believed she would lose him forever.

Uehara Shiroha turned to her, his voice calm as ever.

"Now, now, Nanao, why are you crying? Everything’s taken care of, isn’t it?" His gaze drifted over the assembled Shinigami. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Or… did someone bully you?"

The Shinigami of the 11th Division, including Madarame Ikkaku, instinctively took a step back.

As if on cue, the group shifted just enough to leave Ayasegawa Yumichika standing out in the open.

"You absolute bastards," Yumichika thought, his expression blank.

He sighed heavily, then forced a smile. "Haha… You misunderstand, Mr. Uehara. We were just, um… appreciating your strength?"

If looks could kill, he was certain he’d already be ascending to Soul Society as Reiatsu, much like the Hollows before him.

Thankfully, Nanao stepped in to diffuse the moment.

"Teacher Uehara… I wasn’t being bullied. I was just too worried about you…" She wiped her eyes, her voice trembling slightly.

Uehara Shiroha gave her a small nod. "There was no need to worry. No matter how many come… it’s all the same to me."

Just as he said that—

A booming, wild voice cut through the desert wind.

"Hah! Now this is interesting. Very, very interesting!"

The air itself seemed to tighten.

A feral, untamed spiritual pressure crashed over them like a tidal wave, thick with murderous intent.

Everyone turned their heads toward the source.

A towering, beast-like figure stood bathed in moonlight, resting a jagged blade on his shoulder.

His wild golden eyes gleamed with excitement beneath the black eyepatch covering his right eye.

His hair—spiked like jagged blades—clinked softly with the sound of small bells attached to the ends.

As he took a step forward, the pressure intensified.

A sensation like cold steel pressing against their throats sent shivers through the gathered Shinigami.

Only one man in all of Soul Society exuded such an aura.

A man of battle.

A man who lived for the thrill of the fight.

"Boss Zaraki!"

"Captain Zaraki!"

The Shinigami of the 11th Division erupted in recognition, their voices filled with both reverence and unease.

Kenpachi Zaraki, Captain of the 11th Division, had arrived.

The tension was suffocating.

One by one, the 11th Division members hurriedly recounted Uehara Shiroha’s unbelievable feat—how he had single-handedly frozen fifty Gillians with a single strike.

For the first time since arriving, Kenpachi’s wild grin faltered just slightly.

His golden eye narrowed.

Then, his expression twisted into pure exhilaration.

He vanished—

—and in an instant, reappeared directly in front of Uehara Shiroha.

His breath was heavy with excitement, his towering frame looming over the silver-haired Shinigami.

"You," Zaraki growled, his grin widening.

"So it was you who took down fifty Hollows with one sword strike?"

A mad glint flickered in his eyes.

His fingers tightened around the hilt of his massive blade.

"Damn…! First you get dessert, and now you get a feast?!"

His voice boomed across the battlefield, a mixture of admiration and sheer bloodlust.

"Man, you’re so damn lucky!"

The air itself trembled.

In the next second—

An explosion of spiritual pressure erupted from Zaraki’s body, painting the entire landscape blood red.

The sky darkened.

The moon above seemed to bleed, bathed in the overwhelming aura of his fighting spirit.

His laughter echoed through the night.

"Come on! Fight me!"

Ise Nanao gasped.

A chilling sensation pierced her chest, as if a cold blade had stabbed straight through her heart.

Her breath hitched. Her vision blurred.

Her knees buckled.

The sheer weight of Zaraki’s bloodlust was too much.

Already weakened from exhaustion, her body gave out.

She began to fall—

—but before she could hit the ground, a strong arm caught her.

A gentle warmth enveloped her as Uehara Shiroha held her steady.

With a quiet sigh, he lightly patted her head. A soft white light pulsed from his palm.

In an instant—

Her mind cleared.

Her breath steadied.

The overwhelming fatigue that had consumed her moments ago vanished.

Nanao looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude.

Then—without hesitation—she quickly moved behind him, using him as a shield.

Because against Kenpachi Zaraki, there was no way in hell she was stepping forward.

“Before we begin, allow me to ask you a question.”

Facing the bloodthirsty and battle-hungry Kenpachi Zaraki, Uehara Shiroha remained calm, his expression betraying neither fear nor excitement.

"Kenpachi, do you know the difference between a king and a mount?"

Zaraki’s wild grin remained unchanged as his lone, uncovered eye narrowed with amusement.

“I don’t know. Does it matter?” he asked indifferently. “Are you stalling for time? Or have you run out of energy already? If that’s the case, I don’t mind waiting. Take a breather.”

Uehara Shiroha chuckled. Of course, Zaraki wouldn’t care. He wasn’t the type to think about abstract things like that. He was a pure Shinigami—his only joy in life came from the thrill of combat, the rush of a blade meeting resistance, the sensation of narrowly escaping death.

Unfortunately, Uehara had no interest in entertaining a lunatic like him.

Fighting someone like Kenpachi Zaraki, who thrived on battle and constantly grew stronger the longer a fight dragged on, was simply pointless. His absurd durability, monstrous reiatsu, and his unyielding will to fight made him an annoying opponent. Even if Uehara went all out and managed to kill him in one blow, there would be no true gain from such a victory.

And if he won?

He would have to bear the consequences—because, by the traditions of the 11th Division, the one who defeats Kenpachi must take his place as captain.

Looking at the wild bunch of rough men behind Zaraki, with their fierce faces, scarred bodies, and bizarre hairstyles, Uehara felt his stomach churn.

Like hell I’m taking that position.

“I see. You really don’t understand,” Uehara finally said, shaking his head. “You’re not even qualified to make me draw my sword.”

Kenpachi’s grin widened, his fingers twitching around the hilt of his jagged blade.

“You sure talk big.”

There was no mockery in his tone—only pure disappointment. He truly didn’t understand why someone strong would reject the opportunity to fight.

"What a shame," he sighed. "You’re strong, yet you don’t enjoy battle. What a waste!"

Then, as if granting a rare favor, he smirked and added, “Whenever you change your mind, come find me. I’ll be waiting. And to make it fair, I’ll even let you take the first swing.”

At that moment, a high-pitched, playful voice suddenly chimed in from behind Kenpachi.

“Kenchan is really generous!”

A small figure appeared, clinging to Kenpachi’s shoulder—a pink-haired girl with large, mischievous eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Vice-Captain!”

Madarame Ikkaku and the other squad members were visibly startled.

“You were here the whole time?!”

The pink-haired girl giggled and gave a playful wave.

Ise Nanao, who had been observing the exchange in silence, looked at the child in astonishment.

A little girl? The vice-captain of the 11th Division?

She adjusted her glasses, trying to process the absurdity.

“I was taking a nap on Kenchan’s back just now,” the little girl explained casually before turning to Uehara and Nanao with a wide grin. “Hello, Pretty boy! Hello, Flat glasses!”

Uehara blinked. “Flat glasses?”

“You!” Ise Nanao’s expression twitched, clearly disliking the nickname.

The little girl ignored their reactions and cheerfully continued, “My name is Kusajishi Yachiru! Don’t be fooled by my appearance—I’m the vice-captain of the 11th Division!”

Kusajishi Yachiru…

Uehara studied her for a moment before giving a small nod.

"Yachiru, huh? That’s a great name."

But he had no intention of lingering here any longer.

He turned to the gathered Shinigami and spoke decisively.

“Well, that’s enough excitement for today. Everyone’s worked hard. Let’s return to our territory and rest. Once we’re back in the Soul Society, Captain Yamamoto will distribute the rewards based on merit. Expect a generous payout.”

The moment money was mentioned, several squad members perked up, their exhaustion suddenly less apparent.

Kenpachi, however, looked almost insulted by the idea of rest. His eyes gleamed with battlelust as he watched Uehara leave.

"You can run for now, but sooner or later, you’ll fight me seriously. That’s a promise."

Uehara, without looking back, simply waved a hand dismissively before vanishing with a Shunpo.

Nanao gave a polite bow to Kenpachi before following suit.

As their figures disappeared, Kenpachi snorted.

“There are so many prey waiting for me. Who has time to rest?”

He ran a hand through his wild hair, already thinking about the next battle.

Meanwhile, in the Sand Dunes…

Beneath the eerie glow of the desert moon, two figures stood cloaked in invisibility, their robes barely shifting in the desert breeze.

Aizen Sosuke and Ichimaru Gin observed the battlefield from afar, watching the lingering traces of blue spirit energy dissipate into the wind.

Gin, for once, had his eyes slightly open, his expression betraying genuine curiosity.

“Well, well… He sure has some terrifying power.”

Before today, Gin had suspected that Uehara Shiroha was hiding something.

Now, it was obvious.

This wasn’t just hiding power—this was hiding an entire iceberg, with only the tip showing.

Aizen, ever composed, simply smiled. His deep brown eyes glowed with intrigue as he followed the fading remnants of battle.

"It doesn’t matter," he said smoothly. "The stronger the Shinigami become, the faster they’ll clear Hueco Mundo of its current inhabitants. In the end, it will only help us."

Gin’s sly grin returned, his sharp gaze flickering with amusement.

"When Aizen-sama finally conquers Hueco Mundo and perfects the Hollowfication Experiment, you’ll surpass all Shinigami… No one will be able to oppose you."

Aizen chuckled softly, his voice carrying an unmistakable sense of certainty.

"In that case… Let’s accelerate our plans."

His gaze darkened, a glint of ambition flashing in his eyes.

"It’s time to invite our guests from the Kyōgoku to join us."