17. Little tournament

The training grounds of the Sixth Division were alive with the chatter of fresh recruits, all eager to prove themselves. Musashi stood at the edge of the field, arms crossed and expression neutral. Beside him, Arasaka stretched theatrically, shooting grins at anyone who glanced his way.

"Attention!" A sharp voice cut through the noise, silencing the crowd. The lieutenant of the Sixth Division, a young man with a black hair. Kuchiki Sōjun.

Captain Kuchiki Ginrei followed, his commanding presence making even the most confident recruits stand straighter. He surveyed the group, his gaze lingering on Musashi and Arasaka briefly before nodding in approval.

"Welcome to the Sixth Division," Ginrei began, his tone calm yet authoritative. "Our ranks are currently thin, which means we must assess where each of you belongs. To do so, we'll hold a tournament."

A murmur ran through the crowd, excitement and nervousness mingling in equal measure.

The lieutenant stepped forward again, holding a small basket filled with bamboo sticks. "Each of you will draw a stick with a number. That number will determine your opponent. The matches are posted on the board over there. Draw your stick and prepare for battle."

Musashi stepped forward with the others, plucking a stick from the basket. He glanced down at it: Number 1.

"Hey, Musashi," Arasaka called, sidling up to him with a wide grin. "What number did you get?"

"1," Musashi replied flatly.

"Then we'll meet in the finals," Arasaka declared confidently, holding up his stick marked with a 2.

Musashi didn't reply, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward slightly.

The first match was called.

"Number 1 versus Number 3!"

Musashi stepped into the circle drawn in the dirt. Across from him stood a towering, broad-shouldered man who scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Uh… hi," the man said, his voice surprisingly timid for his size.

Musashi gave a curt nod, his face expressionless.

"Let the match begin!" the lieutenant barked.

The bulky man charged, his movements slow and predictable. To Musashi, it felt as though time had slowed.

'So slow', he thought.

He raised his index finger, pointing it at his opponent.

"Hadō #4, Byakurai."

A thin streak of lightning shot from his finger, striking the man squarely in the chest. It wasn't a particularly powerful spell, but it was enough. The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

The crowd gasped.

The lieutenant stared in disbelief. "Kido without an incantation? What kind of monster…?"

"Winner: Masaharu Musashi!"

Musashi glanced at Arasaka, who was grinning mischievously.

'That little… He told me this was the second weakest Hadō,' Musashi thought, scowling.

Walking back to the sidelines, Musashi muttered, "You said it was weak."

Arasaka shrugged innocently. "Well, that's your problem. You have monstrous strength. Oh, it's my turn now. Cheer for me, won't you?"

"..."

"C'mon, don't give me that look! You'll make me blush."

Musashi's glare deepened.

"Alright, alright, I'm going," Arasaka said, waving him off.

Arasaka stepped into the ring, and within moments, his opponent was sprawled on the ground, defeated by a chantless Byakurai. The lieutenant was left shaking his head in disbelief.

"Winner: Yuuji Arasaka!"

Arasaka returned to Musashi's side, grinning. "Did you see that? Pretty awesome, huh?"

"No. I wasn't watching."

Arasaka pouted dramatically. "How cold of you! You're so mean."

Musashi sighed. This is going to be a long day, he thought.

---

The tournament progressed, and soon, Musashi found himself in the semifinals. His opponent was a young woman with brown hair tied back in a tight ponytail. Her earlier matches had shown her to be a skilled swordswoman, relying on speed and precision rather than Kidō.

The lieutenant raised his hand. "Begin!"

The woman vanished in a blur, reappearing beside Musashi with her blade already mid-swing.

Musashi parried effortlessly, their blades clashing with a sharp ring. The force of his block pushed her back, and she jumped to create distance.

Not giving her the chance, Musashi raised his finger again. "Hadō #4, Byakurai."

The streak of lightning crackled toward her, but she twisted in mid-air, narrowly evading the spell.

Before she could recover, Musashi flash-stepped, appearing in front of her. Her eyes widened in shock as she felt the cold edge of his blade against her neck.

"Winner: Masaharu Musashi!"

The girl dropped to her knees, her sword slipping from her hand. Her eyes stayed fixed on Musashi's retreating back. To her, he seemed like an insurmountable wall.

'I'll reach his level someday,' she thought, determination burning in her gaze.

Arasaka leaned over to Musashi, smirking. "You traumatized her, you know. Poor thing looks like she's questioning her life choices."

Musashi ignored him.

"You need to be more considerate," Arasaka continued. "Don't overwhelm people like that. Otherwise, they'll lose the will to get stronger."

Musashi glanced at him, his expression unreadable. "You should worry about yourself. You're up against me next."

Arasaka laughed nervously, waving a hand dismissively. "We're friends, right? You'll go easy on me… right?"

"..."

Arasaka broke into a sweat. "I really shouldn't have teased him so much," he muttered.

---

The final match was called.

Musashi and Arasaka stood facing each other in the center of the circle.

Ginrei watched them closely from the sidelines. 'Their raw power rivals that of a lieutenant… perhaps even a captain. Remarkable,' he mused.

"Begin!"

Musashi dashed forward, closing the gap quickly.

'I can't let this be a close-range fight,' Arasaka thought. He pointed his blade. "Hadō #15, Kazakama!"

A concentrated blast of wind surged toward Musashi, who sidestepped with ease.

Arasaka grinned, raising a finger. "Bakudō #61, Rikujōkōrō!"

Six beams of light shot out, slamming into Musashi's midsection and locking him in place.

The lieutenant's jaw dropped. "He's using high-level Bakudō without an incantation?!"

But Musashi's form flickered—and vanished.

An afterimage?! Arasaka spun, barely reacting in time. "Hadō #1, Shō!" He propelled himself out of the way just as Musashi's blade sliced through the space he'd occupied moments before.

Arasaka didn't hesitate. "Hadō #63, Raikōhō!"

A massive orb of lightning shot toward Musashi, crackling with destructive energy.

Ginrei tensed, ready to intervene. "That's captain-level power…"

Musashi raised his blade high, spiritual energy coursing through it. With one fluid motion, he brought it down, cleaving the Raikōhō in two. The slash continued forward, racing toward Arasaka.

Ginrei flash-stepped into the path of the attack, raising his own blade. It took him several moments to dissipate the energy.

The crowd stood in stunned silence.

Ginrei turned to the two combatants. "The match is over. Winner: Masaharu Musashi."

Arasaka let out a sigh of relief, wiping sweat from his brow. 'Thank the gods he stopped that… my beautiful body was almost ruined.'

Musashi sheathed his sword, offering no response.

Ginrei smiled faintly. 'These two will shape the future of the Sixth Division.'

(End of Chapter)