Chapter 56 Uehara's “Interpretation”

The sheer force of Kenpachi Zaraki's unleashed spiritual pressure was so overwhelming that even the multi-layered barrier couldn't fully contain it. The raw, violent energy surged through the air, pressing down on everything in its vicinity.

The First Division Shinigami's and Kidō Corps members stationed near the barrier were the first to bear the brunt of it. Before they could even react, their bodies trembled violently, their vision distorting as if sharp blades had pierced through them. Some swore they glimpsed the silhouettes of their deceased grandmothers waving at them in the distance.

Without surprise or resistance, their eyes rolled back, and one by one, they collapsed to the ground.

Genshirō Okikiba, who had been conversing with Chōjirō Sasakibe, immediately turned pale. Without hesitation, he rushed toward the fallen shinigami. Chōjirō, too, wasted no time and swiftly carried them to a safer location.

"Are they alright?" Genshirō asked with concern after ensuring the affected shinigami were out of immediate danger.

Chōjirō shook his head. "No serious injuries. They just burned through too much spiritual pressure in a short period and collapsed from exhaustion."

It was a natural response. When faced with overwhelming spiritual pressure, a shinigami's body instinctively released its own to resist. But when the difference in power was too vast, the weaker one would be left paralyzed, drained, and unconscious.

Genshirō exhaled, still staring at the battlefield within the barrier. "I never imagined that kid would reach this level in such a short time… But is it really going to be alright?" His tone carried undisguised apprehension. "That's Kenpachi Zaraki, the man who claims to have an immortal body!"

Throughout the years, Kenpachi had carved his reputation with blood, his hands stained with the lives of countless enemies. Compared to other captains, this battle-hardened monster was far deadlier—his presence alone was enough to instill fear.

Chōjirō, however, remained calm. "If that boy didn't have some real ability, the Captain-Commander wouldn't have approved this match."

Having lived through an era of bloodshed, where mountains of corpses and seas of blood were commonplace, Chōjirō had seen far worse. Compared to the first generation of the Gotei 13—an era filled with merciless Shinigamis—Kenpachi's bloodlust was nothing more than a faint echo.

At that moment, across Seireitei, the entire Soul Society was shaken. The immense surge of spiritual pressure sent chills down the spines of every shinigami, from high-ranking officers to unseated members. Even the vice-captains and the other seats paled, instinctively turning toward the towering golden pillar of spiritual energy rising into the sky.

A wave of hushed conversations spread through the ranks.

"That's… a spiritual pressure beam? That size is insane!"

"What the hell is happening over there?"

"I heard it's a captain assessment…"

"No wonder… Captains really are monsters!"

On a rooftop adorned with golden tiles, Madarame Ikkaku furrowed his brow, stretching out his spiritual senses to gauge the battle. After a brief pause, he let out a deep sigh.

"It's him… the guy who beat me before," Ikkaku murmured. A grin slowly formed on his face. "If it's him, then yeah, I get it… This is gonna be one hell of a fight! This is gonna be great!"

Beside him, Ayasegawa Yumichika placed a hand to his ear, closing his eyes as he focused on the clash of powerful forces beyond the barrier. "Even though the barrier is suppressing the fluctuations… a battle between two Shinigamis at this level is still breathtaking." He chuckled softly. "I can't say I agree with the Eleventh Division's obsession with reckless combat, but… I can see why Ikkaku and Captain Zaraki admire it so much."

This… this was what they called true enlightenment.

"Well, The Captain is definitely enjoying himself," Yumichika added.

Just then, a small figure flashed onto the rooftop—Kusajishi Yachiru. Her usually carefree expression darkened as she pouted, crossing her arms. "Hmph! I hope Ken-chan teaches that pretty boy a lesson!" she huffed. "He's always stealing my snacks and bullying me!"

If she were strong enough, she would have personally kicked Uehara Shiroha out of the Women's Shinigami Association by now.

Meanwhile, down below, Abarai Renji stood frozen, staring toward the arena, his fists clenched. His heart burned with longing.

Power…

He was chasing power. And Kenpachi Zaraki was the very embodiment of it.

At the same time, within the 10th Division's barracks, Hitsugaya Tōshirō gripped Hyōrinmaru tightly. Without a word, he resumed his relentless Bankai training.

Not enough.

He wasn't strong enough yet.

Back on the battlefield, facing Kenpachi Zaraki's monstrous spiritual pressure, Uehara Shiroha sighed. "And this is exactly why I said I was tired."

The sheer, overwhelming battle intent radiating from Kenpachi was suffocating. Yet, despite himself, Shiroha felt his own blood stir in response.

Fighting a war maniac like Kenpachi… it was hard not to get drawn into the excitement.

Even someone like Kurosaki Ichigo, who once yearned for a peaceful life, had found himself enthralled by the thrill of battle after fighting Kenpachi.

The captains watching from the sidelines were visibly tense. Some, even among their ranks, felt an unsettling sensation prickling at the back of their necks.

Two Shinigamis, still in their Shikai forms, yet exuding such terrifying pressure…

There was only one conclusion.

Monsters. Both of them.

Even Unohana Retsu, usually the embodiment of grace and composure, narrowed her eyes slightly.

Suì-Fēng, on the other hand, remained calm. She had initially believed that if even captains like Ichimaru Gin and Kuchiki Byakuya had failed to defeat Uehara Shiroha, then surely Kenpachi Zaraki would be the one to take him down.

After all, this was Kenpachi, the strongest combatant in the Soul Society, the man with the so-called "immortal body."

But now… she wasn't so sure.

Perhaps, as long as Kenpachi could force Uehara Shiroha to reveal his Bankai, that alone would be a victory.

Because completely defeating this man… seemed nearly impossible.

Kenpachi's excitement reached its peak. He tore off the upper half of his uniform, revealing his scar-covered torso, his grin widening with sheer battle-hungry joy.

"Come on! Take a hit first! You deserve at least that much!" His voice was thick with bloodlust.

Uehara Shiroha sighed in exasperation. "You're still holding onto that, huh?" He shook his head. "Fine. I won't hold back, then."

Without hesitation, he slashed.

At first glance, it looked like a simple strike. But the moment the blade cut through the air, it became clear—it was anything but ordinary.

High-level captain-class swordsmanship wasn't just for show.

And yet, this wasn't even his full power. If he had utilized Sun Breathing or Seven Flashes, even a thousand-year-old captain-class Shinigami wouldn't have been able to endure it.

But Kenpachi Zaraki?

He barely flinched.

"Hah! That all you got?" Kenpachi's eyes darkened, his killing intent intensifying. "Don't bore me again like you did last time… or I'll kill you!"

His thirst for a worthy fight had been boiling for too long. If this hope was dashed, if he was denied a battle to his heart's content—he might very well lose control.

Uehara Shiroha, however, remained unimpressed. "The problem isn't me. It's you."

Just like Kurosaki Ichigo, Kenpachi was a "spring-loaded Shinigami"—the stronger the opponent, the stronger he became. If the opponent was weak, he, too, would weaken.

Kurosaki Ichigo's strength was entirely dependent on his emotions. He rarely fought at full power.

Aside from his mother's murderer, Yhwach, Ichigo Kurosaki had never harbored true killing intent toward anyone. It wasn't in his nature. This was similar to the high school delinquent Jotaro Kujo, who was always "afraid the school wasn't violent enough."

Of course, Tsukishima—the minotaur constantly dancing on the edge of death—was a special exception.

Then again, even if it were Konoha's golden boy, Naruto Uzumaki, he would probably still choose to forgive him in the end.

But Kenpachi Zaraki?

For him, it was simple. He only cared about ensuring his strength matched his opponent's, savoring the thrill of battle in its purest form.

Just like Ichigo, Kenpachi always appeared at max level, having once held the upper hand in his battle against Unohana Retsu. However, because he feared killing her and losing a worthy opponent, he had subconsciously sealed away most of his strength. Since then, every time he encountered a powerful enemy, he would gradually release portions of that seal, unlocking more of his true potential.

And when the battle ended? He would seal himself again.

Honestly, Uehara Shiroha had always been curious—where exactly did this guy learn to seal his own power like this? It was absurdly useful.

Just now, a slash from him would have been enough to incapacitate an ordinary captain, yet Kenpachi stood there completely unfazed.

It was obvious. This guy had just turned on the cheat code.

Maybe he was wary of Uehara Shiroha's freezing abilities, which was why this time, Kenpachi unsealed his strength right from the start. Although he wasn't quite at his Bloodthirst Mode initial release, he was essentially operating at full power—his strength already nearing its peak form.

At this point, he was undeniably a high-tier captain-level opponent.

It seemed… it was finally time to show some real skills.

Kenpachi finally reacted, his grin widening. "What? So I got too excited and used too much strength?" He let out a deep, gravelly laugh. "If I wanna enjoy this fight, I need to control myself a little. I don't want it to end too quickly." His golden eyes burned with excitement. "But if it's you, there's no problem."

Unohana Retsu, standing among the captains, watched intently as Kenpachi's spiritual pressure skyrocketed. Her usual calm expression shifted slightly—her eyes gleaming with intrigue.

At this moment, the blood that had long lay dormant within her veins… stirred.

Uehara Shiroha exhaled lightly, rolling his shoulders. "You forced me into this, so don't blame me for being ruthless."

This was a rare opportunity. Since Kenpachi was unleashing everything he had, it was only right that he responded in kind.

If Kenpachi was about to experience true ecstasy in battle, then he would show him what true manly romance meant.

It was time to drive a mecha.

Raising his zanpakutō, Shunkyō, he pointed the tip of the blade at Kenpachi.

"Bankai—Frostmourne!"

The moment those words left his lips, a shockwave of pure spiritual energy exploded outward.

The captains' eyes widened in disbelief.

Several of them couldn't help but exclaim in unison, "Could it be—?!"

Kurotsuchi Mayuri's golden irises gleamed with fascination, his lips curling into a twisted smile. "So it's finally here…" he muttered, voice thick with excitement. "I've been waiting a long time to witness that guy's Bankai! What exactly is he hiding…?"

Sui-Fēng clenched her fists, whispering under her breath, "I'll witness it with my own eyes… just how wide the gap between us truly is."

"Scary, scary," Ichimaru Gin mused, his eerie grin unwavering.

Even Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni and Unohana Retsu turned their full attention toward Uehara Shiroha's zanpakutō.

A blinding white pillar of spiritual energy shot straight into the sky.

Then, a suffocating, bone-chilling aura enveloped the battlefield—thick, heavy, and filled with an overwhelming sense of cold. The temperature plummeted instantly.

A crystalline mist swirled around Uehara Shiroha's body as a magnificent, intricately designed suit of heavy armor began materializing over him, piece by piece. His blade, once an ordinary katana, transformed into an enormous, regal longsword—its edges gleaming with an eerie blue light, runes of frost pulsing along its surface.

Finally, standing before them was an armored Shinigami, clad in resplendent, moon-white heavy armor.

A four-pointed silver crown adorned his head, a pure white cape billowing behind him. Every inch of his armor gleamed with an icy sheen, shoulder plates broad and polished to a mirror finish.

And in his grip, a massive double-edged sword—Frostmourne—radiated an ethereal blue and white glow, its surface etched with arcane runes, frost condensing along its edges.

If any World of Warcraft players from his past life had been present, they would've screamed on the spot:

"Holy shit! It's Frostmourne! The Lich King?!?!"

Indeed, his entire appearance was modeled after Arthas, the Lich King.

Thanks to his White Album ability, which could condense moisture from the air into external armor, every intricate detail was crafted to perfection. Even the infamous "Frostmourne"—a natural weapon designed to slay kings—was replicated flawlessly.

It was ironic. The Frostmourne was a weapon meant for inferiors to slay their superiors—a natural nemesis to Yhwach, the so-called Pirate King who delighted in gathering "sons" to serve him.

The moment his transformation completed, Uehara Shiroha casually swung Frostmourne.

A thunderous shockwave erupted.

The sheer magnitude of the unleashed spiritual pressure trembled the heavens and earth. A formless wave of frost spread outward, instantly freezing everything in its wake.

Even the reinforced barrier surrounding the battlefield trembled violently, as if it could barely withstand the pressure.

The captains, who had just barely recovered from the overwhelming spiritual presence of Kenpachi, now found themselves crushed under an even more terrifying force.

This was beyond what they had expected.

This was monstrous.

The few captains who had struggled to endure Kenpachi's spiritual pressure now found themselves truly overwhelmed. Their bodies trembled, their movements sluggish.

But more than that—

It was cold.

A numbing, bone-deep chill seeped into their very souls.

"This Reiatsu… This Bankai…"

Kyoraku Shunsui let out a slow exhale, eyes filled with admiration. "No wonder Brother Shiroha never uses his Bankai lightly… I understand now."

He had thought he was the only one hiding a terrifying Bankai.

Turns out, Uehara Shiroha had been concealing something just as dangerous.

For the first time in a long while, he felt a kindred connection—an unspoken bond between two cunning old foxes.

Meanwhile, Shiba Isshin crossed his arms and grumbled, "I feel like Captain Uehara's Bankai is completely different from ours…"

The other captains all nodded in agreement.

Regardless of strength, most of their Bankai took on subtle or abstract forms.

But Uehara Shiroha's?

It was extravagant, awe-inspiring, overwhelmingly powerful—the kind that dominated the battlefield just by existing.

It was rare to see a Bankai with such flair.

At that moment, Sui-Fēng stiffened, her senses alert. Then, she heard a sudden exclamation from Komamura Sajin.

"Captain Sui-Fēng, you—!"

"What?!" She turned to him, only to notice something strange.

His barrel-shaped helmet had turned completely white—coated in a thin layer of frost.

Alarmed, she raised a hand to her face.

Cold.

Freezing cold.

It was then that the captains realized—they, too, were covered in a fine layer of frost.

"Retreat beyond the barrier!" Yamamoto barked, immediately flashing backward.

Kyoraku Shunsui's voice rang out, "It's coming—move!"

A wave of freezing air surged forward like a white froststorm.

The captains didn't hesitate. They vanished in an instant, escaping beyond the barrier.

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