It was already late into the night when Unohana Retsu returned to her tent.
There were no lamps lit inside; she had no need for them.
She simply stood quietly at the entrance of the tent, gazing up at the cold, clear moon in the sky.
Moonlight spilled through the tent flaps, spreading a blanket of silvery white across the ground.
She still held that wooden sword in her hand.
Rough wood, crude shape—it was merely a practice tool whittled on a whim.
Yet at this moment, as she looked at the wooden blade, she found herself slightly lost in thought.
That child had endured it today.
She clearly remembered the instinctual reaction in Hasumi Ren's eyes the first time she released her killing intent.
Retreat.
It was a reaction any normal living creature would have.
Faced with the threat of death, the body would make a choice faster than the conscious mind.
She was not disappointed.
Because it was perfectly normal.
The second time, he did not retreat, but he was half a beat too slow.
The third time, he was still too slow.
The fourth time, slow again.
Until...
She raised her eyes, looking toward the moonlight on the horizon.
Until the twentieth time, or was it the thirtieth?
She couldn't remember clearly.
But she remembered that after a certain point, the young man's reactions suddenly changed.
Unohana pondered for a moment, trying to find the exact words to describe that shift.
His body no longer needed to wait for his brain to issue commands.
The moment the killing intent arrived, his blade was already moving.
Even though she precisely struck his vitals every single time.
But that was only because his sword was not yet fast enough, nor accurate enough.
Yet, it had only been two hours.
She withdrew her gaze and looked back at the wooden sword in her hand.
Faint scuff marks still lingered on the blade, left behind by the young man's swings.
Two hours to overcome the instinctual fear of killing intent.
This speed...
Unohana gently stroked the blade, her thoughts drifting back to a time long, long ago.
So long ago that even she had almost forgotten those days.
A moment later, Unohana set the wooden sword aside and stepped outside the tent.
The night breeze blew past, carrying the scent of wild grass and trees, carrying a slight chill.
She recalled the look in Hasumi Ren's eyes at the very end.
Even though his entire body was trembling, even though sweat had soaked through his clothes, even though he had 'died' beneath her blade more times than she could count.
Yet in the gaze he directed at her, there was no fear, no hesitation.
There was only anticipation.
Waiting for her next swing.
Waiting for the next descent of death.
So that the next time, he could hold on for half a breath longer than the last.
Unohana suddenly gave a soft smile.
A very faint smile, the curve of her lips barely perceptible.
She thought of what Hasumi Ren had said.
"So that when the time comes, I can protect the people behind me."
Protect the people behind him.
Back in her day, she had never harbored such thoughts.
She only wanted to kill.
To kill stronger opponents, to kill more people, to kill until she became the strongest.
But that child, from the very beginning, was not thinking about killing.
He was thinking about protecting.
Unohana raised her head. The moonlight was cold and clear, just like that night a thousand years ago.
But the woman standing here now was no longer the great villain from a millennium ago who knew only slaughter.
She had learned to save lives, learned the medical arts, learned to smile gently, and learned to hide her true self.
She thought she had become peaceful enough.
Until today.
When she watched that child steadily improve under her killing intent, she suddenly realized something.
Her hands were itching.
It was a feeling she hadn't experienced in a very, very long time.
The urge to draw her sword.
Unohana withdrew her gaze and turned back into the tent.
She didn't look at the wooden sword again.
But she knew that at this exact time tomorrow, she would appear punctually in that clearing.
She wanted to know how long that child could last next time.
And the time after that?
Suddenly, she found herself looking forward to it.
Outside the window, the moonlight remained unchanged, the night as usual.
Everything was just as it always was.
But Unohana knew that something was already different.
That young man, with his clumsy swordsmanship, had carved a tiny slit into her heart.
Very shallow, very fine, almost imperceptible.
But it was undeniably there.
She lay down and closed her eyes.
A faint curve lingered at the corners of her mouth.
Over the next few days, at the stroke of midnight, Unohana would appear punctually in the clearing.
Using that wooden sword, she instructed Hasumi Ren for two hours.
Hasumi Ren's Kendo experience also grew at an astonishing rate.
This rocket-like speed of improvement absolutely fascinated him.
After Unohana left, Ren would continue practicing alone, repeatedly pondering and internalizing the killing intent he had felt, attempting to integrate it into his own swings.
Late into the night on the fifth day, as Unohana sheathed her wooden sword, a flash of approval crossed her eyes.
"You've improved."
This was her first time giving him direct validation.
Ren was drenched in sweat, but his eyes were bright.
"Starting today, we enter the next phase."
Unohana shifted her grip on the wooden sword.
"You can already comprehend killing intent. What you must learn now is how to make that killing intent work for you."
With a twist of her wrist, she held the wooden sword upright in front of her, taking a stance ready to cleave downward.
There was no spiritual pressure, no exertion of force.
Yet Ren distinctly felt that the power behind this strike was something he absolutely could not resist.
"Do you feel it?" Unohana asked.
"When you prepare to swing this blade, your opponent will subconsciously tense up because they sense the danger."
"But this is merely pure momentum."
She looked at Ren.
"The Second Division excels at assassination, emphasizing one-hit kills. Kendo is the same. The difference is that you are standing openly and squarely in front of your opponent."
Ren looked thoughtful.
"Try attacking me."
Hearing Unohana's words, Ren took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the wooden sword.
He stepped forward and swung down.
Unohana's wooden sword lightly tapped his wrist.
"Wrong. You are still thinking about how to swing the sword."
"You must let your momentum drive your blade."
"Again."
He swung down.
A tap on the wrist.
"Again."
Over a hundred attempts later, Ren's arms had gone numb.
But on the very next strike.
Unohana did not tap his wrist.
Her wooden sword caught Ren's blade.
"Not bad."
Ren froze.
He looked down at his hands.
For that last strike, he hadn't thought at all.
It was as if the sword had swung itself.
That day, after practice ended, Unohana turned and left as usual.
Ren stood in place, watching her retreating figure.
The progress bar for his Kendo, Lv6, was nearing completion.
On the seventh day, the mission was drawing to a close.
The wounded were stable, and Hollows no longer appeared in the vicinity.
This rescue mission was about to be completed.
Everyone was preparing to evacuate and return to the Seireitei.
However, that afternoon, a terrifying spiritual pressure far exceeding anything they had felt before approached from the distance.
Ren was the first to sense that something was wrong.
He dropped what he was doing and used Shunpo to dash out of the tent.
On the distant horizon, several massive dark silhouettes were moving toward them.
Every single silhouette radiated a suffocating spiritual pressure.
Adjuchas.
Three of them.
Trailing behind them were over a dozen Gillians.
The Eleventh Division members beside him stared blankly, nearly losing their voices.
"This kind of spiritual pressure fluctuation... Adjuchas?"
"How is that possible..."
No one could answer him.
Because everyone was consumed by fear.
At this moment, the strongest combatants in the camp were only the Fourth Division Captain, Unohana, and the Fourth Seat, Hasumi Ren.
But could two members of the medical division withstand three Adjuchas?
Unohana emerged from her tent, her gaze falling on the distance.
The smile on her face gradually vanished.
It was replaced by an expression Ren had never seen before.
"Hasumi Ren."
"Here."
"Protect the wounded."
"Yes, but Captain, what about you..."
Unohana did not answer; she merely walked forward.
Then, Ren's pupils violently contracted.
The spiritual pressure surrounding Unohana changed.
That gentle, profound spiritual pressure seemed to split open down the middle.
A killing intent as dense as physical matter spread from her body, making the surrounding air feel as though it had frozen solid.
The Gillians charging at the rear suddenly stopped in unison.
They were terrified, trembling.
No matter how the Adjuchas at the front roared, they still refused to follow and charge forward.
The next moment, Unohana used Shunpo to appear in front of the Hollow horde.
A flash of blood-red light streaked past.
The head of the leading Adjuchas separated from its body and slid off heavily.
The terrified crowd behind her was stunned, staring blankly as this benevolent Captain drew the sharp blade from her waist.
"How is this possible? Captain Unohana is... this strong..."
Those were Adjuchas.
Entities second only to Vasto Lorde among the Menos Grande.
Instantly killed... with a single strike?
Unohana did not stop.
She continued walking forward.
With every step she took, a flash of blood-red light streaked past.
The second Adjuchas fell.
Followed by the third.
Finally, it was the Gillians' turn.
The once-terrifying Menos Grande were now like lambs waiting to be slaughtered before her.
Blood sprayed from the wounds of the Menos Grande like rivers, dyeing the earth red.
Ren stood at the rear with the others, watching that figure standing tall with her blade.
The battle ended in a mere few dozen breaths.
Unohana stood quietly amidst the horde of Hollows as they dissolved into Reishi.
She let out a soft scoff.
"How truly... boring."
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