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Chapter 171: Escape Is Also Trust

Chapter 171: Escape Is Also Trust

Above, the Garganta loomed, black and vast, blotting out the sky. Sunlight could not reach Mount Fūryū. Shrouded in gloom, the Day Moon Squad shinigami huddled close together, their breaths shallow.

"Oi, Ise Nanao... this part of the test too?"

Madarame Ikkaku rested his Zanpakutō across his shoulder, glancing at Ise with a questioning glare.

"I’m not sure, but... I don’t think so. Captain Shuuichi didn’t mention anything like this."

Nanao pushed up her glasses, voice composed despite the tension.

"So we’re just unlucky enough to be caught in a Hollow incursion?"

Ayasegawa Yumichika, casting Kyokkō to conceal them, kept his tone cool, though his eyes never left the shapes descending from the Garganta—massive, twisted Hollows of all forms and temperaments.

He was silently thankful the Garganta had opened early. Had it occurred later, they would’ve all been scattered along the mountainside. And in an ambush of this scale? Without captain-level power, they’d be corpses.

"Nanao, you’re sure this isn’t part of Shuuichi’s plan?"

Shiba Kaien’s voice was low but firm. A seasoned shinigami and Vice-Captain, Kaien had been through enough battles to know how to keep his cool.

When Nanao confirmed it was not, Kaien immediately summoned a Hell Butterfly. Rare and sacred, these creatures were typically reserved for captains. But as the head of the Shiba Clan, Kaien held authority enough to possess one.

The butterfly, unhindered by the spatial isolation that bound the mountain, flitted away—carrying Kaien’s distress signal to both the Captain-Commander and Higashi Shuuichi.

"I’ve sent a request for reinforcements. If we can just hold out, Soul Society will answer."

He turned to reassure the others. Panic was the enemy now.

But from the edge of the group, Iba Tetsuzaemon muttered grimly, "That might not be enough..."

And it wasn’t pessimism. Around them now, titanic Gillians—beast-like Menos dozens of stories tall—had encircled them.

And then it emerged from the shadow between their legs.

It was man-sized. It wore a white cloak, obscuring most of its body. But the half-mask still clinging to its face marked it unmistakably—an Arrancar.

They all recognized it instantly.

Despite the downgraded classification post-Baraggan—Arrancar now being considered "at least Vice-Captain level"—this one’s Reiatsu radiated pure Captain-level pressure.

And not one of them could match it.

While shinigami had long learned to punch above their weight against Hollows, relying on finesse over raw pressure, none of them had ever faced an Arrancar of this caliber.

Especially not when surrounded by Hollow beasts, every one of them hungry.

"Heh... Sweet, tender shinigami. You’ve got about ten minutes to say your last words. I’m feeling generous."

The Arrancar grinned wide, eyes sweeping the group like a butcher surveying meat.

"You’re far too confident," Kaien replied coolly. "I’ve heard lines like that from countless Hollows. You know what they all have in common? They’re dead."

As he spoke, his Zanpakutō gleamed silently. No incantation. Just release. One of Shuuichi’s most useful teachings—silent invocation.

As heir to the Shiba Clan and one of Soul Society’s brightest talents, Kaien could have achieved captain-level long ago if not for being tied down by administrative burdens in Squad Thirteen.

He didn’t need to be part of this test. He chose to be.

Why? Because he admired Higashi Shuuichi.

The man had risen from nowhere—without talent, without legacy—clawing his way to the apex. That journey inspired Kaien.

So when Shuuichi invited him to join Day Moon Squad, he accepted without hesitation. And it was proving worthwhile.

Though Shuuichi couldn’t offer Kaien raw strength, he gave him something more rare: wisdom born from blood-soaked survival.

Now, Kaien moved without wasting a breath.

Words could distract. Or deceive. Or kill.

The ground beneath the Arrancar’s feet turned liquid—Kaien’s Trident of the Sea flicked forward.

"Mizuten Tatsumaki!" (Aqueous Heaven Spiral!)

The liquid surged upward, forming a towering vortex that bridged earth and sky—a spiral column of crashing water.

"Hell yeah!"

Kotsubaki Sentarō, the team’s self-proclaimed "mood manager," cheered reflexively.

He knew he was weak, the perennial target of Shuuichi’s criticisms—an archetypal specialist with glaring combat flaws. Originally assigned a unique solo path in this trial, he’d stayed quiet during earlier discussions.

But now—he cheered.

Only... too soon.

In any other world, it’d be called "champagne at halftime."

From the vortex, a laugh echoed. Cruel. Mocking.

A slick, purple tentacle punched through the water spiral. Reishi beads, like prayer beads, spun around it—then plunged into the vortex’s core.

In a flash, the mighty cyclone crumbled like a collapsing skyscraper.

"Useless~ Kaien Shiba, your abilities have long since been added to my material archive~"

The vortex receded, revealing the Arrancar’s true form.

Humanoid only in silhouette—limbs like tentacles, grotesque and slick. Its head? A glass cylinder filled with a translucent fluid.

Floating within—two naked heads.

One marked "1". The other, "0".

Kaien knew what that meant.

He’d studied the Espada.

Even after Baraggan’s fall at Shuuichi’s hand, the Arrancar command structure had endured. Coyote Starrk—the man who had once split Soul Society’s defenses for Baraggan—had likely inherited command.

And with him, the Espada system.

Which meant this thing before them—marked 10—was the Decima Espada.

A top-tier warrior in Hueco Mundo.

Way beyond their pay grade.

"Nanao! Take Yumi, Yumichika, and the others—run. Get as far away as possible."

Kaien’s tone cut like steel.

"You kidding me? It’s just a damn Arrancar and some oversized Hollows. I ain’t afraid of any of ’em!"

Ikkaku bristled. What a joke. Run? Him? Never. He hadn’t even cowered before Shuuichi!

He’d rather die than scream in pain.

Luckily, he had a best friend with a brain—Ayasegawa Yumichika.

He didn’t know what "Espada 10" truly meant. But Kaien’s grim expression told him enough.

"Vice-Captain Kaien... we’ll meet again outside."

Yumichika’s words carried weight. On the battlefield, never waste a comrade’s sacrifice. Shuuichi taught them that.

So he grabbed Ikkaku and fled toward the flank, where only the lesser Gillians stood. They might just break through.

Meanwhile, Tetsuzaemon Iba held the rear, shielding them from a Cero.

He glanced back at Kaien—not with fear, but something deeper. As if burning the image of his comrade into memory.

Now he understood how his mother had truly died.

Kaien had stolen the spotlight today.

But next time? Iba swore he’d be the one.

Then Nanao followed, pulling along Kōtetsu Isane.

Everyone understood what Kaien had chosen to face.

But none stayed.

They weren’t cowards. They were students of Higashi Shuuichi.

And in Shuuichi’s lessons, one truth rang clear:

This isn’t a novel. Escape isn’t shame.

Wasteful death is.

If Kaien said they couldn’t win together—then staying would only dishonor his sacrifice.

And in that moment, what linked them wasn’t fear...

...it was trust.

A bond, forged in battle, locked tight like chains of Reishi.

And none of them knew it yet—

But that bond would shake the heavens.