Kiganjo Kenpachi stood in the center of the battlefield, panting heavily, the residual spiritual pressure from the battle still lingering around him.
He was covered in the blood of Menos Grandes, looking quite ferocious.
"Pah." He spat on the ground, cursing as he sheathed his blade.
"Is that it? I haven't even had my fill of cutting yet."
Hasumi Ren stood not far away, watching this scene, and secretly shook his head.
Captain Kiganjo's strength was indeed not weak.
He had personally slain those few Gillians just now.
That wide, sweeping swordsmanship and that violent burst of spiritual pressure were certainly at the Captain level.
But, that was all there was to it.
His swordsmanship was too crude, too reckless.
He relied purely on spiritual pressure and brute force to crush his enemies, completely lacking any technique.
It was fine for dealing with Gillian-class Hollows, but if he were to encounter a truly formidable enemy...
Ren recalled the training grounds on the back mountain—Unohana's effortless swings of her blade and her unparalleled killing intent.
That was what a true Kenpachi should look like.
Having this Kiganjo serve as the Captain of the Eleventh Division truly felt unworthy of the Kenpachi title.
It was no wonder that a faint glimmer of disdain would flash in Unohana's eyes whenever she mentioned him.
"Eleventh Division, get your asses over here!" Kiganjo bellowed at the top of his lungs.
"Count off and see who's dead!"
The members of the Eleventh Division gathered around, their noisy voices echoing through the night sky.
"Where's the Ninth Seat? Where is he?"
"I got bitten on the arm, damn it, it hurts like hell..."
"Those damn Hollows, I just hacked three of them to death!"
"Keep bragging, your leg is completely broken..."
Curses, boasts, and groans blended together.
Although this group fought fearlessly without regard for death, their post-battle management was a complete mess.
At this time, Ren also began directing the Fourth Division members, preparing to carry out post-battle medical treatment.
While instructing the personnel to move out, Ren turned his gaze to the side.
There, the illusion of Aizen was surrounded by many squad members, a gentle smile on his face.
"Lieutenant Aizen is amazing!"
"Yeah, if it weren't for your abilities, we would have been in real danger tonight."
"The way those Hollows slaughtered each other was spectacular!"
The squad members excitedly crowded around the fake illusion, their eyes filled with admiration and gratitude.
And the illusion played along flawlessly, smiling and nodding.
Occasionally, he would reply with phrases like, "You all worked hard as well."
Watching this scene, Ren only felt it was exceptionally eerie.
He knew that the real Aizen was currently out in the distant darkness, doing what he truly wanted to do.
And this Aizen here was nothing more than a meticulously woven illusion.
Yet the people around him were all deceived by this phantom, believing that Aizen had been here commanding the battle the entire time.
Using the power of Kyoka Suigetsu to manipulate the five senses and create illusions.
Making enemies slaughter each other, and making allies believe without a doubt.
Meanwhile, Aizen himself could slip away silently to do whatever he pleased.
Such an ability, paired with his shrewdness and methods...
It was truly terrifying.
"Fourth Seat Ren?"
A moment later, a voice interrupted his thoughts.
Ren turned his head to see a Fourth Division member standing beside him with an inquiring expression.
"The wounded have been gathered. Should we begin the treatment now?"
Ren nodded, gathering his focus.
"Let's begin."
He led the Fourth Division members toward the area where the wounded were gathered.
In the area Ren was responsible for, over a dozen severely injured Eleventh Division members lay scattered across the ground, bearing various gruesome wounds.
Some were groaning, some were cursing, and others were arguing over who had cut down more Hollows just now.
Seeing Ren approach, they merely glanced at him, their attitudes remaining as careless as ever.
"The Fourth Division is here?"
"Hurry up and stop my bleeding first, it hurts like hell."
"I'm injured so badly, and you guys only have a Fourth Seat here. Can you even heal me properly..."
Ren didn't speak; he simply crouched down and began examining the first patient's injuries.
It was a burly Eleventh Division member. His arm had been slashed open by a Hollow's claws, leaving a deep wound with curled flesh, faintly revealing the fractured bone inside.
Ren raised his hand, and the pale green spiritual pressure of Kaido gathered at his fingertips.
His movements were very light and steady.
Threads of spiritual pressure accurately probed deep into the wound, reconnecting the severed spiritual veins one by one and repairing the damaged tissue bit by bit.
The gruesome wound healed at a visible rate.
The burly squad member froze, looking down at his arm.
He moved his arm around, a flash of surprise in his eyes.
"It's healed? That fast?"
Ren ignored his surprise and had already turned to the next patient.
The second patient was injured in the abdomen, suffering from burns caused by a grazing Cero.
The surface of his spiritual body had extensive Reishi burn marks, and the internal organs were also damaged, making it much more troublesome to treat than a superficial wound.
But Ren's technique remained steady.
Dual Kaido operated simultaneously—one stream stabilized the patient's spiritual pressure state, while the other repaired the damaged spiritual tissue.
In just the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the hideous burns had faded, revealing the newly formed skin underneath.
The injured man touched his stomach, his face full of disbelief.
"Holy shit?"
The third, the fourth, the fifth...
Ren's movements grew faster and faster, yet every action was incredibly precise.
The eyes of the surrounding Eleventh Division members gradually changed.
Their initial indifference slowly turned into seriousness, and finally morphed into astonishment.
Gradually, people began to mutter in low voices.
"Hey, I gotta say, even though this kid is a Fourth Seat, he seems to have some real skill."
"He can even heal internal organ damage... This level of Kaido is way better than the seated officer I met last time I went to the Fourth Division."
"This is a fucking Fourth Seat?"
By the time Ren finished treating the last patient and stood up, a circle of Eleventh Division members had already gathered around him.
The looks they gave him no longer held the contempt and disdain from when they set out that morning.
Replaced instead was a sense of acknowledgment, even carrying a hint of curiosity.
"Hey, what was your name again?"
An Eleventh Division member with a scar on his face touched his healed wound and asked, his tone much more polite than before.
"Hasumi Ren."
Ren replied calmly.
"Hasumi Ren..."
The scar-faced man muttered it once.
"Alright, I'll remember it. Your Kaido is way better than those guys who only know how to yell at us to stop moving."
He patted Ren's shoulder with enough force to make him sway slightly.
"From now on, when I go to the Fourth Division, I'll look for you."
Ren nodded helplessly.
However, this wasn't up to him to decide; patients were allocated based on the severity of their injuries.
'Whatever. Regardless, these people changing their attitude toward me is ultimately a good thing,' he thought.
Even though he didn't really care.
He turned and walked to the side, taking out a waterskin to take a sip, using the opportunity to recover from the spiritual pressure consumption in his body.
Then, his gaze unconsciously drifted toward the distant darkness.
That was the direction where Aizen had disappeared.
'I just wonder... what is Aizen doing right now?'