Bleach Seireitei's Discipline Captain - Chapter 138
First Division Barracks, Captain’s Private Dojo.
“The use of Will Sleep primarily applies from a superior to a subordinate.”
A faint red glow emanated from Yamamoto Genryusai’s right hand, carrying a subtle yet palpable sense of danger.
“This is a method of using reiatsu that requires meticulous control over your own spiritual pressure.”
Tokikaze listened intently, observing the changes in Will Sleep, and repeatedly attempted to apply the theoretical knowledge Yamamoto had imparted.
Will Sleep was different from Kido, being a technique independent of the core four Shinigami disciplines.
Therefore, learning it posed a certain degree of difficulty.
“I have a general understanding of your situation,” Yamamoto said, dispersing the glow in his palm and letting his hands fall naturally by his sides. He looked at Tokikaze and spoke frankly:
“Even though I had some expectations, your performance has exceeded them.”
“Graduating from the Shin’? Academy only three years ago, you have risen from Sixth to Second-Class Reiatsu in record time, a progress that can only be described as astonishing.”
“The last Shinigami with talent like yours was Kaien Shiba.”
Tokikaze nodded thoughtfully.
Strictly speaking, he and Kaien Shiba were very different.
Members of the Shiba family possessed superior spiritual power compared to regular souls. When Kaien Shiba entered the academy, he was already at Sixth-Class Reiatsu.
Moreover, the Shiba family’s head, Isshin Shiba, was even more exceptional.
Although Tokikaze had never fought him seriously, he estimated Isshin was at least at the peak of Second-Class Reiatsu.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to consider that he might even reach First-Class Reiatsu.
Looking at his achievements, it became evident.
He directly confronted Aizen’s creation, White, fought Aizen’s initial transformation with just Shikai and maintained the balance of the Dangai for three months with his spiritual pressure alone.
Isshin Shiba might not have reached his full potential yet, but he was undoubtedly one of the top Captains.
Moreover, he had the trump card—Final Getsuga Tensho.
Although the ultimate purpose of Final Getsuga Tensho was debatable, Isshin Shiba was undoubtedly extraordinarily powerful.
“Mastering the technique of Will Sleep will help you better control your spiritual pressure.”
Yamamoto Genryusai analysed seriously, “Using limited spiritual pressure to achieve greater destructive power is the path we should follow.”
Undoubtedly, with his thousands of years of experience, Yamamoto Genryusai’s knowledge in this area was unparalleled.
The name “Genryu Style” was well-deserved.
After just half a day of listening, he said he had already helped Tokikaze plan his future path.
By training in meditation techniques, he could deepen his understanding of his soul, thereby mastering the Bankai form of his Zanpakuto.
Mastering Will Sleep would allow perfect control over his spiritual pressure.
Completing these two tasks would not increase his power a hundredfold, but at least tenfold was achievable.
Of course, this depended on mastering Bankai.
“Will Sleep is just one part of today’s lesson.”
Yamamoto Genryusai continued, “The essence of the Genryu Style goes far beyond this.”
“Since there’s still time, I will teach you a sword technique.”
As he spoke, he retrieved two bamboo swords from the side of the dojo and handed one to Tokikaze.
“This technique is called Fudan.”
Yamamoto Genryusai held the sword in one hand, gathering a small amount of spiritual pressure onto it, revealing a faint sharpness. His gaze sharpened, and the air filled with a sense of danger.
Seeing this, Tokikaze’s attitude became more serious.
Yamamoto Genryusai suddenly swung the sword downward, and the sound of fabric tearing echoed through the air. A black fissure appeared on the floor, extending all the way to the edge of the dojo.
Crack, crack!
The crisp sound of breaking echoed from the floor.
In the next moment.
Starting from Yamamoto Genryusai’s stance, the floor in front of him shattered and splintered, fragments flying everywhere like a storm.
Tokikaze widened his eyes slightly, his face rarely showing surprise.
If it was just a matter of splitting the dojo with one strike, he could easily do that, even with a bamboo sword.
But if the prerequisite were to limit his spiritual pressure to a very low level, then the difficulty would surpass his current ability.
He had thought that the power of Fudan was solely due to Yamamoto Genryusai’s strength.
But in reality, even among the countless sword styles in the Soul Society, Fudan could rank in the top five, if not the top three.
“Fudan is the essence of the Genryu Sword Style.”
Yamamoto Genryusai stood with the bamboo sword, still intact, in hand. “Unfortunately, Kyoraku and Ukitake’s interests lie elsewhere, so they could not master this sword technique.”
“I heard from Captain Unohana that your skill in swordsmanship rivals hers, so I wanted to see if Fudan could regain its former glory through you.”
As he spoke, Yamamoto Genryusai’s eyes burned with intense anticipation.
Before Tokikaze could respond, Yamamoto Genryusai began explaining the key points of Fudan.
What seemed like a simple technique was full of hidden complexities and profound insights, revealing the immense dedication poured into its development.
There were not many knowledge points, but mastering them was a challenge.
However, this varied from person to person.
With an eleventh-dan foundation in swordsmanship, Tokikaze didn’t need much time to learn Fudan.
After the explanation, Yamamoto Genryusai let Tokikaze practice while he stood by to provide guidance.
After a few simple attempts, Tokikaze surprisingly had already grasped the basics of Fudan.
The only difference from Yamamoto Genryusai’s demonstration was the level of proficiency.
Holding the bamboo sword with both hands, Tokikaze gathered his spiritual pressure and slashed down.
In an instant, the already damaged dojo floor gained new scars.
A massive gash crossed the floor, extending from the centre to the edge.
It was slightly less than Yamamoto Genryusai’s, but not by much.
Seeing this, Yamamoto Genryusai nodded in satisfaction, clearly pleased. Such talent was on par with any of his previous students.
Just as he was about to speak, a boisterous, wild laugh echoed from the dojo’s corridor.
Repressed, violent spiritual pressure surged into the dojo.
“Hahaha! Old man, as promised, I’m here!”
With the laughter, a tall figure stepped in.
The man had a fierce look, a scar running from his forehead to his chin on his left cheek, with the edges of his Captain’s haori cut in a jagged pattern. His spiky hair was adorned with small golden bells, jingling as he walked into the dojo.
Most striking was his wild, beast-like gaze.
The Eleventh Division Captain, Kenpachi Zaraki!
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