Saitō Hisaya's swift defeat caught countless people completely off guard.
Except for the few Captains and Vice-Captains present, the vast majority hadn't even seen how Nobu had made his move.
As for the strength Nobu had just displayed—different people had different thoughts.
Some found it perfectly normal. Take Unohana Retsu, for example—she had once witnessed Nobu in action with her own eyes. Though she still didn't know where his upper limit lay, felling the Sixth Division's Third Seat in a single move hardly surprised her.
But she alone thought so.
Kyōraku Shunsui suddenly leaned toward the Ukitake beside him and murmured,
"I think I've figured out what that kid's trump card is. You and I didn't see through him before."
Ukitake said nothing in reply.
"This brat's got some skill."
Eleventh Division Captain Zaraki Kenpachi broke into a grin without warning. He had heard of Tachikawa Nobu from Ikkaku's mouth—
Back when Ikkaku first lost to him, Kenpachi already knew of his existence. Later, he even told Ikkaku to try to lure the guy over to the Eleventh so they could have a bout. But Nobu had refused.
Now, after two days of nothing but watching other people fight, here at last was someone interesting—yet the rules kept him from jumping in himself. The itch in his fists was driving him mad.
In the midst of the crowd, Yamamoto Shigekuni Genryūsai let out a sudden, inexplicable sigh.
The power Nobu had shown was far from enough to shock him. True, the boy had graduated from the Academy less than a year ago, but at best, he was just a once-in-a-century talent—nothing more.
What disappointed him was that such a promising newcomer to the Seireitei… didn't seem like a meek, compliant sort.
Nobu quickly shifted his gaze from Ichimaru Gin to several other potential targets.
His behavior looked for all the world like he was picking his next opponent.
"This guy—truly arrogant!"
Second Division Captain Soi Fon gave a cold snort, then turned to the man at her side, Ōmaeda Marechiyo.
"You're up."
Ōmaeda instantly wailed inwardly, Captain, I… might not be able to beat him…
Soi Fon's eyes flashed with anger. She stared him down until he had no choice but to rise to his feet.
Seeing that a new challenger was stepping forward, everyone's attention swung back to the arena.
Although Nobu had seen this Vice-Captain of the Second Division at a few vice-captains' meetings, they'd hardly spoken a single word to each other.
Ōmaeda's massive, hulking body entered the field. Yet despite his size, there was not a shred of true pressure to his presence—in fact, paired with the gaudy sparkle of his jewelry and clothes, the whole sight was almost comical.
"Tachikawa-san, it's just a friendly spar," Ōmaeda said first, smiling awkwardly. "This exchange meeting—friendship first, competition second. Let's keep it light."
Nobu returned the smile.
"Exactly—friendship first, competition second."
Ōmaeda's face lit up. "Yes, yes, just a light exchange between us."
"What are you playing at, Ōmaeda?!"
Soi Fon's voice cracked across the arena like a whip.
Ōmaeda's face changed in an instant. "Tachikawa-san, here I come!"
With that, he drew the Zanpakutō at his waist and intoned, "Crush him—[Gogintō]!"
In a flash of light, the blade transformed into a massive, black spiked flail the size of a boulder.
The moment he released his Zanpakutō, a ripple of exclamations ran through the spectators.
Gripping the chain in one thick hand, Ōmaeda swung the flail up with a sudden heave. The colossal iron head traced a wide arc through the air, dragging a sharp wind with it, roaring like a storm.
With a shout, he lunged forward, leaping as he brought Gogintō down toward Nobu's position with deadly precision.
From the sheer weight and momentum of it—if that thing hit, it would cripple, if not kill, on the spot.
Nobu didn't dodge. Instead, he raised one hand.
"Bakudō #8: Seki!"
From his palm sprang a shimmering disc of reishi, floating in front of him. The seemingly fragile barrier met Gogintō head-on—and instead of shattering instantly, it actually deflected the weapon, sending the massive flail flying back.
Ōmaeda's eyes widened in shock. He hadn't imagined that an Eighth-Level Bakudō could stop Gogintō's strike.
How much spiritual pressure does he have to pull that off?!
Refusing to believe it, he grabbed the chain again and spun the flail with frenzied force, his reiatsu surging until it whipped a gale through the arena.
"Smash him to pieces—[Gogintō]!"
With a roar, he brought it crashing down again, the force even greater than before.
Nobu's hand settled on the hilt of the asauchi at his waist, his eyes fixed calmly on the oncoming black mass.
Shing—
Steel left the scabbard. Sparks burst where sword met iron, and in that instant, Nobu's strike sent the flail veering sharply to the side.
His form blurred—ghostlike—and in the next heartbeat he stood barely a meter from Ōmaeda.
The Vice-Captain's heart jolted in panic. Once Gogintō was released, close combat was almost impossible for him. The weapon was made for mid-range devastation, and now he'd just flung it wide.
He tried to retreat—but too late.
The cold intent pouring from Nobu's blade sent a shock through his very soul. A sudden, searing pain lanced through both his legs, and without his consent, his body collapsed to the ground.
Thud!
The hulking Vice-Captain knelt, legs screaming with pain, unable to control them. No matter how he tried, he could not rise.
The reishi joints in his legs… shattered.
As the realization struck, he looked up.
Nobu stood before him in plain black shihakushō, serene, his asauchi sliding quietly back into its sheath.
If drawing your blade could not inspire fear—
then better to leave it in the scabbard.
But if you chose to bare it—
it must be in a single, unforgettable stroke.
Outside the ring, Soi Fon let out a heavy sigh. "Idiot."
She knew well enough what Ōmaeda's capabilities were. This duel had been unavoidable, so she had hoped he would at least step up decisively and show some spirit in battle.
She hadn't expected him to lose this quickly—hardly any better than Saitō Hisaya before him.
This Tachikawa Nobu's strength… might already be far beyond the vice-captain level.
If his spiritual pressure had reached the Third-Class spiritual rank, he might barely be considered captain-class in power…
But that shouldn't be possible. Just yesterday, she'd reviewed the profiles of today's competitors—when Nobu had entered the Academy, his spiritual pressure had only tested at Eighth-Class.
If he hadn't been born with overwhelming reiatsu, then there was no way it could have grown so quickly.
Ōmaeda was carried off on a Fourth Division stretcher. Covering his face with an arm in shame, he muttered to his bearers, "Walk faster."
Kotetsu Isane's examination confirmed it—Nobu had pierced the reishi joints in both his legs, leaving him temporarily unable to use them at all.
This also added a few more shades of worry in Kotetsu Isane's heart.
She didn't know if things would turn troublesome for Nobu if he kept going like this.
Two consecutive wins—and in both matches, his opponents hadn't lasted even two full exchanges.
That outcome made the faces of today's remaining participants grow heavy.
It was starting to seem as if they too would end up the same way as Saitō Hisaya and Ōmaeda Marechiyo.
Many of them were cursing inwardly.
It was one thing for Ichimaru Gin—someone who had already mastered bankai—but now this Fourth Division guy was just as fierce?
Was today's "exchange" really just about being props for those two?
They were all vice-captains or high-ranking seated officers who had served for years—even decades—yet none of them had run into a situation like this before.
"I'll go!"
Just as many eyes were beginning to turn toward Ichimaru Gin, another voice rang out.
Everyone looked over and saw that it was Togakushi Rikū from the Third Division—expressions turned oddly mixed all around.
In truth, Togakushi Rikū was fairly well known within the Thirteen Court Guard Squads, and his interpersonal standing wasn't bad.
Since the Third Division had neither captain nor vice-captain, all division affairs had been handled by him.
Yet despite doing the work of both captain and vice-captain alone, he had never been promoted even to vice-captain.
Maybe it really was as he had told Nobu before—given his aptitude, reaching Third Seat was already the ceiling for him.
Or perhaps there were other reasons.
Either way, everyone knew his strength had limits. It didn't affect everyday missions, but compared with other divisions' vice-captains, there was a clear gap—and he was very likely the weakest among today's participants.
At this moment, they had to respect his courage.
"Nobu-kun."
After stepping onto the field, Togakushi greeted him directly.
He had once invited Nobu to join the Third Division, but Nobu had turned him down—understandably so, since Nobu's Zanpakutō was Kaidō-based. Fourth Division was the natural fit.
Besides, the Third Division's new captain had already been all but decided. Even if Nobu had joined, he would probably only have been vice-captain.
Nobu inclined his head slightly. "Togakushi-senpai."
Togakushi smiled. "Never thought Nobu-kun's strength would be this great. Looks like I underestimated you."
"I didn't expect Togakushi-senpai to step up at a time like this, either."
"Someone's got to. Going up now—at least even if I lose, it won't look too shameful."
Nobu said no more, drawing his Zanpakutō first.
Togakushi took a deep breath and unsheathed his own blade.
Facing each other, he already knew he wasn't the opponent's match. With a sharp shout, he charged Nobu directly.
His speed wasn't bad—he was on Nobu in a blink, both hands gripping the sword so tightly that veins bulged along his arms, bringing the blade down toward Nobu's shoulder.
The instant he struck, Togakushi's nerves were taut. Before his heart could even beat a second time, he thought he heard the faint rustle of cloth.
Clink!
Whoosh—
Nobu's sword was too fast. Even at arm's length, Togakushi still couldn't see how he had drawn it. The plain asauchi in Nobu's hand had effortlessly knocked his Zanpakutō from his grasp, and now its tip rested at his throat.
The chill of the steel made Togakushi's skin prickle, his whole body breaking into gooseflesh. Pain throbbed at the base of his thumb—the strike he hadn't even seen had carried crushing force.
"Togakushi-senpai. Concede."
Togakushi swallowed stiffly.
He had run into Nobu before on support missions, seen him lead teams and cut down Hollows with ease.
But to be on the receiving end was another matter entirely.
Suddenly, he pitied those Hollows—probably they never knew how they had died, either.
He took a step back, steadying his breathing, and bent to pick up his Zanpakutō.
He figured he was lucky. At least Nobu hadn't pierced his reishi joints—he'd still be able to take part in the remaining bouts.
Winning any of those was still unlikely… but with Ōmaeda and Saitō out, that was two extra wins for him by default. It would make his record look better.
If a few more people ended up injured like that, maybe the Third Division wouldn't end up dead last…
"…"
As he picked up his Zanpakutō, a thought suddenly struck him.
His eyes went wide, and he stared at Nobu.
"What is it, Togakushi-senpai?" Nobu asked mildly.
"No, nothing…"
The day before yesterday… and today… Could it be…
Togakushi's mind churned. A startling thought surfaced.
Why hadn't Nobu gone for his reishi joints?
Was it because they had some personal rapport…?
Let's hope so. Let's hope so.
Silently repeating this to himself, Togakushi left the stage.
He couldn't resist glancing toward the captains' seats, where the expressions on each face varied subtly.
Kuchiki Byakuya's was as ever—cool, unreadable.
When the match ended, the audience began whispering again.
Togakushi Rikū had lost—but he was unharmed.
If in the matches ahead two or three more people ended up like Ōmaeda and Saitō, unable to continue…
Then Togakushi would gain several more victories by default.
And that would mean…
"Head-Captain, shall we call a temporary halt to adjust the rules?"
Sasakibe Chōjirō leaned close to Yamamoto Genryūsai's ear and murmured.
The Head-Captain was silent for a moment, then said, "No. Leave it as it is."
His gaze stayed fixed on Tachikawa Nobu in the arena.
From the beginning, he had already had Sasakibe make certain adjustments to the rules, to keep Nobu from directly targeting the Sixth Division.
Yet Nobu had still managed it.
It no longer mattered.
What concerned him now was—had Nobu's strength already reached the captain level? What class was his spiritual rank? Had he learned bankai…?
And—between him and Ichimaru Gin—which was stronger?
An ordinary member had no right to be this defiant.
But if it was a captain, the noble houses might be willing to let things slide.
Especially… such a young captain.
"Gin."
From the captains' row, Aizen's voice sounded softly.
He smiled warmly, fingers pushing up his glasses.
"Do you want me to go up now?" Ichimaru Gin asked with a narrow-eyed grin.
"I thought someone as important as me ought to be saved for last."
Aizen chuckled. "Haven't you noticed? There's already someone who can't wait."
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