Even before the sword-pressure reached her, an icy death pierced the space between her brows, jolting Unohana Retsu with an instinctual, unbearable pain. Reflexively, she lifted her sleeve to shield her face, and the fabric instantly shredded at the sword's touch. Fine beads of blood welled across her pale skin.
Her pupils trembled as the muscles of her left leg tensed fiercely, sending her whole body tumbling sideways at an almost distorted angle. As the sword pressure scraped past her ear, she distinctly heard strands of hair snapping cleanly—like the Reaper's scythe grazing her neck, constricting her throat with sheer dread.
Boom!
Beside her, the stone ground split open into a deep, terrifying ravine, the echoes of crumbling rock mingling chaotically with her own thundering heartbeat.
It was only then that Unohana realized how ragged her breathing had become.
I was actually frightened by that last strike…?
Standing calmly not far away, Nobu spoke slowly, almost mockingly. "Taichō… It seems even you fear death."
"..."
Unohana had no reply. She cast a sidelong glance at the ravine carved by the sword energy, her pupils contracting to sharp, trembling points. Her fingertips drifted unconsciously to the side of her neck, still burning from the sword intent that had brushed past—not merely physical pain, but a searing, soul-deep ache, as if something higher had briefly gazed upon her very essence.
Does this mean his swordsmanship has already surpassed mine?
She held up her Zanpakutō, peering at her reflection in the cold mirror of the blade. Memories drenched in oceans of blood surged back without warning—the countless souls she had cut down, their howls echoing endlessly from dark abysses. Their twisted faces seemed now to overlap with her own.
Shadows severed by the sword will take root, blossoming within the enemy's eyes into a reflection they dare not acknowledge.
Her Zanpakutō hummed, a familiar, long-dormant heat stirring deep within her chest.
"I was mistaken," Unohana murmured softly, lowering her eyes. Nobu's eyebrows rose slightly, surprised at her admission.
"I now acknowledge that every word you said earlier was true."
Nobu did indeed possess the ability to kill her.
With sudden resolve, her left hand clenched tightly around the blade. Blood immediately spilled from her palm, saturating the sword in crimson.
"Bankai—"
The scent of iron thickened sharply in the air. Her blade melted within the rising blood mist, transforming into a scarlet stream of molten blood.
Blood itself!
The blood seeping through Unohana's fingers resonated intensely with the blade. At her feet, thousands of fissures yawned open simultaneously, as if hell itself had cracked beneath her. The entire space seemed to collapse into a single amber-colored void, viscous torrents of blood flooding from nothingness, turning the shattered stone floor into a churning, crimson marshland.
"[Minazuki]."
Her whispered voice seeped into the blood mist, and the blade in her hand howled mournfully, as though tearing through reality itself.
Nobu felt his feet sink into boiling blood. Before him, Unohana stood atop swelling waves of blood, her robes embodying pure killing intent. The wound he'd inflicted now knitted itself closed, crawling threads of blood weaving new life into a cradle of slaughter.
In a fleeting hallucination, Nobu glimpsed countless slain souls rising as scarlet skeletons, clawing half-formed from the blood swamp, their jaws grinding with metallic howls.
Inverted corpses flooded the world around him, and Unohana's faint, blood-wreathed smile mirrored the ancient demon who, centuries ago, had reached toward him atop mountains of corpses—a peerless monster born from endless killing.
Fortunately, the vision lasted but a breath.
Flickering traces of reishi shimmered uncontrollably across Nobu's body as his Zanpakutō shielded him from Unohana's overwhelming reiatsu. Without this ability, just the pressure alone would have been enough to crush him completely.
He'd said he possessed the strength to match her—but that strength certainly wasn't measured by reiatsu.
Nobu was still only Third-Class Reiatsu Authority. And Unohana Retsu?
Second-Class…perhaps even stronger.
He'd never directly faced reiatsu exceeding Third-Class before; even now, his Zanpakutō's "Stasis" was all that kept her crushing power at bay.
The surging blood continued pouring into the ravine his sword had carved earlier, seemingly determined to fill the endless abyss.
Nobu suddenly dropped his asauchi, letting it sink into the crimson swamp beneath him. Then, as if materializing from thin air at his waist, two blades—one crimson, one pure white—appeared in his hands.
"Twin blades…"
A glint of surprise flashed through Unohana Retsu's eyes.
She remembered the question that had lingered in her mind long ago: This Shore and The Other Shore—the names indeed sounded like twin blades.
In Seireitei, the only dual-wield Zanpakutō known belonged to Kyōraku Shunsui and Ukitake Jūshirō, yet even their swords appeared as single blades when sealed.
Has Nobu already released his Zanpakutō?
The twin swords emerged slowly from their sheaths. The longer blade—Higan—was crimson as fresh blood, the guard etched vividly with blooming spider lilies. The shorter—Shigan—was bone-white, its blade patterned like winding flower stems.
The blood-swamp churned like boiling water, and beneath the crimson sky, the red and white blades gleamed with an uncanny radiance.
Whoosh!
Nobu moved first, darting across blood waves in an instant, slicing through the surging scarlet curtain like paper.
Dual wielding, is it?
Crossed sword-light filled Unohana Retsu's pupils. Her Zanpakutō whipped out like living blood, and as she spun, the crimson swamp condensed into thousands of needle-like blades.
Countless blood-needles, thick with malice, shot toward Nobu's face, yet shattered instantly upon touching his blade-lights. With a sharp clang, Nobu's twin swords smashed heavily against Unohana's blood-red blade, their collision creating a brief vacuum that pushed the surrounding blood outward.
The cold flash of steel abruptly jabbed toward Unohana's eyes, forcing her spine into a near-breaking backward bend. Yet at that instant, Nobu's red blade broke through her guard, slashing fiercely downward.
Clang!
A strike that should have been certain to hit was suddenly blocked—Unohana's hidden dagger had caught the red blade, Higan, at the hilt!
Her reiatsu erupted once more, matched by the brilliant reishi glow shrouding Nobu's body. Instantly, a surge of blood swallowed both their forms.
The continuous clash of four blades ripped the bloody heavens apart; Nobu and Unohana flickered through the crimson space, their blades forming a tangled web of icy death.
Dual-wielding gave Nobu's assault a ferocity that completely put Unohana on the defensive. She had no chance to counter, every nerve strained simply to block his relentless strikes. His attacks were precise and cunning—never wasteful, never predictable.
They separated briefly, and Unohana cast aside her small dagger. Compared to Nobu's flawless twin blades, her dagger—suited only for surprise attacks—had become burdensome.
Their continuous collisions had undone one of Unohana's neat braids; she paid it no heed.
Though she'd tossed away the dagger, her left hand still instinctively hid within her sleeve. Raising her blood-red blade again, she rushed toward him, both moving at once.
With every slash, drops of blood shot forth like cannonballs in a dense barrage, slowing Nobu's movements within the crimson rain. Unohana pressed closer, relentless as a shadow; Nobu barely raised his twin blades before her heavy sword crashed down upon them.
Boom!
The tremendous impact forced Nobu's knees to bend slightly. At that instant, the blood swamp abruptly contracted, forming a crystalline spear of solidified blood in her other hand!
Yet before Unohana could thrust it into him, Nobu's white blade slashed upward, passing just millimeters from her throat.
She retreated sharply. Nobu flipped back into the turbulent mist of reishi and blood, his shadow elongated and distorted. Once again, Unohana heard the piercing scrape of steel:
"[Yasha Shinkū!]"
Crossed arcs of sword-pressure soared toward her from above. Her pupils contracted; she flash-stepped away, the strike crashing violently into the blood swamp and sending waves towering over ten meters high.
As the wave descended, another slash erupted from within the crimson surge, cleaving horizontally toward her. Unohana's gaze sharpened, sensing something odd.
Slower…
Avoiding this last attack felt far easier. Though the oppressive threat remained, its speed had notably diminished. She could clearly see its trajectory now.
Unohana stared anew at Nobu, who stood quietly opposite her, his body glowing faintly with reishi amidst the blood-red gloom.
In fact, Nobu's current state seemed strange to her. Shinigami sensed others by reading spiritual ribbons (Reiraku), yet right now, Nobu had no discernible Reiraku at all. As though it wasn't a person standing there, but pure spiritual pressure.
She suddenly glanced upward. There, at the blood-drenched sky's apex, was another invisible barrier holding back the swelling of her bloody domain.
She finally understood: he was simultaneously maintaining the barrier to prevent her reiatsu from rupturing the space, resisting her crushing spiritual pressure, and fighting her head-on.
Yet, the layer of reishi covering his body made it impossible for her to accurately judge his current reiatsu level.
"What? Feeling softhearted?" Nobu called mockingly from afar.
Unohana returned his gaze coldly, her left hand caressing the blood-red blade.
Whoosh!
Nobu charged again, his twin blades attacking in sequence. The rapid crack of shunpō on blood mingled with the whistling sword-wind. Flames ignited deep within Unohana's pupils, and she suddenly abandoned defense entirely, her Zanpakutō striking forth as an endless red cascade. Each swing roared like collapsing mountains. The blood swamp churned violently under raging spiritual pressure, and the pair's blurred afterimages shredded the air with high-pitched screams.
Unohana's offense was unrestrained. Under this onslaught, even as Nobu's swords drew blood multiple times, her attacks did not falter.
Yet the harder she attacked, the stranger it felt. Nobu appeared cornered, but not one of her strikes landed decisively. Each time her blade nearly reached a vital spot, Nobu's swords would twist impossibly to block her strike—almost as if he foresaw every trajectory beforehand. The backlash from each clash steadily eroded her wrists.
Clang!
Another strike carrying overwhelming force—Nobu's body trembled slightly, his movement hesitating. Unohana's eyes widened, sensing an opening; like wolves catching the scent of blood, her left-hand spear stabbed at his chest with blinding speed.
Thud!
The sound of flesh pierced clean through.
Unohana's eyes widened further. Nobu's white blade retaliated, yet she didn't flinch, allowing it to slash open her chest.
Blood sprayed forth. Unohana held tightly onto the spear forged of blood, her left hand pressing it forward with all her strength, determined to drive it fully through Nobu's body.
Blood seeped continuously from around the embedded spear, blending into the crimson of her weapon.
Nobu's blood.
This was the first time Unohana had ever seen him bleed. In his previous fight with Ichimaru Gin, he'd demonstrated an ability to avoid injury altogether. During their own battle, she'd wondered—if she truly struck him, would it wound him?
Now, it seemed her concerns had been unnecessary.
Her eyes gleamed with excitement, her voice softly asking, "You should possess immunity to injury. So why did you allow me to pierce you?"
Nobu glanced at the gash across Unohana's chest beneath her torn shihakushō, exposing pale skin and an unsettling, bleeding wound.
Grinning, he replied, "If we're fighting to the death, wouldn't it be boring if only one side bleeds?"
"…"
Unohana fell silent. But through the blood-spear connecting their bodies, Nobu felt her trembling faintly.
She thrust the spear deeper, fully puncturing him, smiling faintly, yet beneath her calm expression simmered something twisted. Finally, with suppressed ferocity, she spoke: "Well said. Even if you claim your reiatsu has run dry, unable to sustain this, I'll show no mercy. I feel no pity for your struggle to uphold this barrier."
Nobu's white blade gently brushed aside her torn shihakushō, observing the bloodied flesh beneath. "Your voice truly sounds beautiful, Taichō. Such a wound, and yet you didn't even scream. A pity—didn't it hurt? Mine hurt quite a bit."
Unohana's gaze locked hungrily onto Nobu's bleeding wound. Watching the spear impale him brought her profound excitement, as if it was her own soul being pierced and filled.
She abruptly tore the spear from his body, watching it dissolve back into blood mixed with his own, staining her hands red.
Stumbling back a step, she brought her bloodied fingers to her lips, smearing them with vivid crimson.
At that moment, the wounds across her body began rapidly healing under the combined effects of her Bankai and Kaidō. Even the horrifying slash across her chest regenerated swiftly, steaming faintly as it closed.
"Ah…"
Unohana exhaled softly, black hair spilling freely. Her face, smeared red at the lips, took on a sickly yet ecstatic pallor.
"It's been far too long…"
She whispered softly, "Before meeting you, I felt utterly parched. Nobu… Thank you for nourishing me."
Nobu's chest wound vanished instantly under Regression's power.
Lifting her blood-red blade, Unohana fixed him with eyes like icy stars.
"Come. Let's continue our slaughter."
---
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