The Soul King Palace, suspended in the unreachable heights above the Soul Society, is a sacred realm shrouded in eternal tranquility and a faint glow.
The Reishi here is dense and pure, as if the pulse of the world’s fundamental rules is within reach.
A seemingly simple open-air platform.
The creator of the Zanpakutō, member of the Zero Division, “God of the Sword” Nimaiya Ōetsu, was sitting on the ground with zero decorum, fiddling with several shards in his hands that shimmered with a strange metallic luster.
He had dark skin, white hair tied into a high ponytail, wore sunglasses, and was dressed in a uniquely styled short jacket, looking somewhat out of place in the sacred and solemn surroundings.
“Hey, Monk.”
Nimaiya Ōetsu didn’t even look up, tapping the ground with the shards in his hand, producing a crisp clinking sound, his tone filled with undisguised skepticism.
“Is it really okay?
Letting that brat named Yanagawa handle a troublesome matter like ‘Twin Hyōrinmaru’?”
His words spread across the vast platform, carrying an echo, yet strangely, they did not break the stillness of the place.
Ichibē Hyōsube’s massive frame stirred slightly, as if a mountain were stretching its limbs.
He slowly turned around, the massive dark prayer beads around his neck emitting a deep, resonant sound.
He didn’t answer immediately, instead using those eyes that seemed to contain the birth and death of nebulae to first look with great interest at the shimmering shards in Ōetsu’s hands, his mouth curling into a hearty smile that seemed somewhat incongruous with his majestic appearance.
“Oh my, Ōetsu, worried about your own work so soon?”
Ichibē Hyōsube’s voice remained grand, but his tone carried an almost leisurely ease, as if he were chatting with an old friend about what snack to have with afternoon tea,
“Or is it that you’re actually more worried that if that kid really figures something out, it will make it seem like you, the ‘God of the Sword,’ weren’t perfect enough when you forged it?”
“Ha?!”
Nimaiya Ōetsu was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, nearly jumping up, his eyes behind his sunglasses glaring at Ichibē Hyōsube,
Every Zanpakutō forged by me, Nimaiya Ōetsu, is a unique piece of art!
It has nothing to do with being perfect or not!”
Ichibē Hyōsube laughed heartily, his laughter deep and pleasant, echoing across the platform.
“Just a joke.”
He waved his large, fan-like hand, his tone still relaxed, but the wise light deep in his eyes flickered slightly.
He paused, casting his gaze toward the Seireitei below, separated by clouds, as if he could see Yanagawa walking toward the Central 46, his tone becoming somewhat meaningful, yet the smile on his face did not diminish:
“Besides, isn’t it quite good to let him encounter this matter?
For one, to test his mettle; and for two…”
He blinked, the action appearing somewhat comical on his massive face, yet it revealed a shrewdness that saw through everything,
“That young man is going to settle down below in the future, he has to learn his way around and get familiar with his neighbors, especially those…
hmm, old neighbors who have too many rules and put on such airs.”
“Getting in touch early, to see if he can get along with the neighbors, or if he’ll turn their carefully maintained courtyards upside down?
Isn’t that quite interesting?”
“Neighbors?
The Central 46?”
Nimaiya Ōetsu sneered, resuming his fiddling with the shards,
“Those old fossils, with the identity of the Zero Division, Yanagawa that kid will definitely be effective on the surface, but it’s hard to say about behind the scenes.”
Ichibē Hyōsube interjected, his tone as light as if he were discussing an interesting play about to open.
“Isn’t this just right?
Let us see, this young man who has caught the eye of the Soul King, who is a bit special.”
“How he will deal with those who treat rules and power as their lifeline.
Will he be able to handle things smoothly and beautifully?
Or will he cause a commotion that makes us old guys have to go down and break up the fight?
No matter which, isn’t it quite worth watching?”
He stroked his smooth chin, his eyes flashing with a pleasant and profound light.
Listening to Ichibē Hyōsube’s words, which seemed relaxed and casual but actually contained hidden barbs in every sentence, Nimaiya Ōetsu couldn’t help but “tsk” and shook his head.
“Fine, fine, you just love to watch the chaos.”
He put away the shards and stood up.
“Anyway, the sword was forged by me, and I am indeed curious about what’s going on.
If that kid can figure it out, I’ll give him credit.”
After speaking, he ignored Ichibē Hyōsube, swaying as he walked toward the Phoenix Palace, muttering to himself again as he pondered his metals.
Ichibē Hyōsube watched his departing back, the relaxed and happy smile on his face slowly fading, but the gleam of insight and pleasure in his eyes did not disappear.
“Well then, Yanagawa-kun…”
A silent whisper, carrying a hint of anticipation and playfulness.
“Let us see, what exactly is so special about the young man the Soul King is paying attention to.”