Death God: Starting from Refining Essence into Qi

The streets outside the window had already darkened. Unlike the Seireitei, the West 40th ward wasn't lit up at night; only a few scattered paper lanterns hung under the eaves, swaying gently in the night breeze. Occasionally, a pedestrian would pass by, hurrying along before quickly disappearing into the depths of the alleyways.

The lobby on the first floor of the inn is where you can eat, and the prices are low. Even though ordinary wandering souls don't need food to survive, many of them still enjoy the feeling of being full by eating.

After a person dies in real life, their soul undergoes a soul burial by the Shinigami (death god) and becomes a wandering soul in the Soul Society. A wandering soul in Soul Society must wait sixty years and receive reincarnation permission from the Seireitei (Seireitei) before they can be reincarnated.

However, ordinary wandering souls without spiritual power do not need to eat; they only need to drink water to maintain their vitality. This leads many wandering souls to choose to stay in the Soul Society and occasionally eat to enjoy a feeling of fullness.

Gen and Saito sat by the window, with two bowls of white porridge and several side dishes in front of them. The food at the inn wasn't fancy, but it was clean, the porridge was thick, and the side dishes were well-pickled.

Saito picked up a piece of pickled radish with her chopsticks and chewed it with a crunching sound. As she ate, she suddenly put down her chopsticks, leaned closer, and lowered her voice.

"Hey Xuan, I have a question for you, you don't have to answer."

Xuan raised his eyes.

"That ability of yours to turn into an owl," Saito leaned closer, his voice low enough for only the two of them to hear, "how does that work? Can I learn it?"

Xuan put down his chopsticks: "If one possesses the bloodline of the Shihouin family, there is a chance of learning it."

"Bloodline talent?" Saito raised an eyebrow, his tone tinged with suspicion. "Is this also a talent of the Shihouin family? As far as I know, none of the five great noble families are this special."

"The Shiba family's inherited technique can sever the bond between spiritual particles. In other words, they can turn everything they touch into sand. Isn't that incredible?" Gen said. "That's another special feature of the other five great noble families that I know of. I wonder what's so special about the Kuchiki family and the Tsunayoshi family."

He paused, picked up the bowl of porridge, and took a sip.

"To be able to assist the former King Ling, one must have extraordinary abilities."

Saito didn't press further: "Perhaps."

Just as the two were chatting, the door to the inn was pushed open.

A Shinigami (death god) wearing a Shinigami uniform but carrying a huge basket on his back walked in.

He walked straight to the counter and said a few words to the shopkeeper. His voice wasn't loud, but it was enough for Gen and Saito, who were both Grim Reapers, to hear him clearly.

"...In the 54th district of the West, there are dozens of Void Spirits. The wandering souls in the surrounding areas must pay money and provisions, at least a thousand rings or equivalent dry rations. This is to support the disaster-stricken areas, resolve the Void disaster as soon as possible, and prevent the Void Spirits from spreading to surrounding areas and expanding the scope of the disaster."

The innkeeper's expression changed, but he still gave the money to the Grim Reaper: "Yes, sir. Please make sure the Void Disaster is contained outside District 50. Alas, I hope it doesn't spread here."

The man nodded, turned and walked into the hall, starting to collect money from each table.

Gen and Saito exchanged a glance, remaining silent, and decided to observe the situation first.

When the Grim Reaper approached a couple who looked like merchants, the man, before the Grim Reaper could speak, had already taken out a money pouch from his pocket and handed over two thousand rings.

"Another false disaster?" he asked casually, his tone not showing much tension, as if it were commonplace.

"West 54th District." Death took the money, counted it briefly, and said, "Routine procedure, thank you for your cooperation."

The traveling merchant stuffed the money bag back into his pocket and muttered, "Running into this again, what bad luck. Another day of skipping meals."

The woman behind him tugged at his sleeve, signaling him to say less. The man shrugged and stopped complaining.

A moment later, the Grim Reaper walked to their table.

"Gentlemen, District 54 in the West has encountered a virtual disaster and needs support from surrounding areas. Each person needs at least 1,000 rings, or equivalent dry rations."

Saito put down his chopsticks: "No."

The man frowned, about to say something, when Saito raised his hand to interrupt him.

"We're Grim Reapers too. It's been a long time since I've had any real combat, and my hands are itching to get back to it," Saito said.

"Do you know the approximate number of Hollows? We can go and provide support to help clean up the Hollow scourge," Gen added, essentially confirming Saito's suggestion.

The Grim Reaper was taken aback. He subconsciously sensed the spiritual power of the two men and was shocked to discover a fact that left him utterly astonished—these two seemingly young Grim Reapers actually had higher spiritual pressure than him.

His expression shifted from suspicion to surprise, and then from surprise to relief.

"I don't know the exact number of Hollows, but if I use Shunpo to get there now, they should still be around the West 54th District."

As he spoke, he took out a few rice cakes wrapped in mulberry paper from the basket on his back and handed them to the two of them: "These are for the road, to replenish the energy consumed by Instant Step. Thank you both for coming to our aid."

Xuan took the rice cake and placed it aside.

Saito may appear carefree, but he is actually quite cautious in his probing. Judging from the Grim Reaper's reaction, the money and provisions are indeed being collected due to a false calamity, rather than a scam to extort money.

The illusory calamity should be eradicated by the court's Death Gods, so why is the Rukongai already collecting money and grain?

Ordinary wandering souls can survive with just clean water, so this money and food must not be for the wandering souls affected by the disaster; it would also be unreasonable to say that it would be used for post-disaster reconstruction or to hire death gods. There is no need to rush the donation work, especially when the illusory disaster has not yet been quelled.

Xuan didn't think too much about it. After paying the innkeeper and changing into his shinigami uniform, he set off.

Xuan was confident that the Void at the Great Void level would not pose a threat to the two of them, and took this Void disaster as a good opportunity to test his skills, which had not been used in actual combat for a long time.

If there are any surviving wandering souls in the disaster area, Xuan wouldn't mind saving them as long as it doesn't affect him.

The two left the inn and hurried westward along the street.

As Saito moved closer, he asked, "Speaking of which, we learned in class that Hollows mostly hunt the souls of the dead in the human world. Why is it that we rarely hear of Hollows attacking Ryukon in Soul Society?"

"There's a specific term for 'the soul of a dead human': 'whole.' Didn't you even hear that in class?" Gen glanced at Saito and sighed helplessly.

"Most Hollows kill and devour each other in Hueco Mundo. A small number of Hollows possess a certain level of intelligence and have mastered the Black Hole, which allows them to traverse between the two worlds. Naturally, they choose to hunt in the Human World—humans in the Human World cannot see Hollows, and ordinary humans are powerless to resist; while in Soul Society, everyone can see Hollows, and Shinigami can quickly learn of the situation and rush to deal with them. The few Hollows that dare to attack Soul Society are either killed on the spot or captured alive and sent to the execution ground to be used to execute criminals."

In the darkness, the wooden houses and thatched huts on both sides rushed past. The further west you went, the sparser the houses became, and occasionally you could see a few figures huddled together by the roadside, huddling together for warmth in the night wind.

A muffled thud came from the roadside; several ragged wanderers were wrestling over half a bucket of water. The dull thud of fists hitting bones and the sound of teeth tearing flesh mingled together, and finally the water spilled onto the dusty ground, but no one cared anymore.

Saito's Shunpo slowed down slightly, as if she was about to do something, but Gen's steps didn't falter at all, and his figure had already leaped several feet away. She bit her lower lip, but in the end, she still used Shunpo to catch up.

After traveling several more miles, pale moonlight peeked through gaps in the clouds.

A gaunt, emaciated stray dog ​​was engrossed in gnawing on something. Hearing the whooshing sound of Shunpo, the dog abruptly raised its head, its murky eyes fixed on the two figures who had just used Shunpo. It kept its body low to the ground, its tail tucked between its legs, and refused to move an inch away.

Only after the two figures disappeared into the night did it lower its head again and continue the teeth-grinding gnawing sound.

Gen could sense that Saito's breathing had become erratic. Even though Saito had personally killed many Hollows, she was still just a teenage girl. The impact of seeing her own kind kill each other, leaving no trace of their bodies, was far more intense than the Hollows' sharp fangs and claws.

"...Which district are we in now?" After a long while, Saito's voice finally came from behind, with a hint of undisguised hoarseness.

"West District 51," Xuan said. "We haven't reached District 54 yet."

To be honest, Xuan never imagined that Rukongai a thousand years ago would be so impoverished and dilapidated.

After noticing that Saito was not in a good state, Gen comforted him, saying, "We are not saviors, and we cannot resolve all the conflicts in the world; we are just death gods, and it is our duty to help the wandering souls facing the threat of the Hollows."

Saito remained silent for a long time. Those images struck her heart like a hammer, shattering the understanding she had built up over the past decade.

"I'd only ever heard that Rukongai was chaotic." Her voice was so low it was almost carried away by the night wind. "But I never imagined it would be this chaotic."

Gen didn't reply, simply maintaining his Shunpo technique. Saito followed beside him, his steps no longer as light as before.

Xuan remained silent because nothing he said would change the status quo; expressing opinions wouldn't alter the situation.

In this era of low productivity, in this era where might makes right, for every well-dressed and well-fed individual, there is someone else in rags and hunger. The prosperity of Seireitei has always been illuminated by the blood and bones of the Rukongai.

The nobles seized vast tracts of land in Rukongai, establishing farms and ranches, employing wandering spirits for labor, and providing them with a small amount of money and clean water to sustain them each day. Countless wandering spirits fought tooth and nail for this—it offered stability and even surplus money. On the outskirts of Rukongai, clean drinking water was a luxury that had to be stolen or robbed.

Xuan wasn't some saint who saved all living beings; he couldn't cut off his own flesh to feed an eagle, nor would he dedicate his entire life to a grand ambition to benefit all people. He was just an ordinary person, a selfish person, who only wanted to live well in this perilous world and live a little more freely.

But since we've encountered this illusory calamity, if we have the ability to clear away the illusion, it would be something Xuan would be willing to do to help those who are powerless to struggle against fate.

After all, the path to immortality is always about humanity, not the way of heaven; one must understand nature, but not forget oneself.

The two hurried westward for nearly half an hour before stopping under an old, long-dead tree.

"Take a break. We're not far from District 54 now. Let's recover our spiritual energy and physical strength and prepare for battle." Xuan took a water bottle out of his bag and handed it to Saito.

Saito took the water bottle, tilted his head back and took a big gulp. The icy water slid down his throat, which slightly calmed the churning feeling in his chest.

A dull night wind blew in from the west, carrying a hint of blood.

"Those nobles..." Saito suddenly spoke, his gaze fixed on the darkness in the distance, "Did they know this place was like this?"

Xuan leaned against the withered tree trunk, closed his eyes, and composed himself: "Some of them know."

"Then why didn't they do anything?" Saito suddenly turned to look at him, his voice trembling with barely suppressed anger and confusion. "They clearly have the ability, the spiritual power, they could easily solve these things, why didn't they do anything?"

"Because they don't care." Xuan's voice was flat. He had long since passed the stage of being a cynical youth, and was already used to the evil in human nature: "The nobles only need to live their own lives well. They can fence off a piece of land, hire a group of wandering spirits to farm and herd livestock, give them food, and they can get a steady stream of income. In their eyes, the working wandering spirits are no different from the cattle and horses on the ranch. As long as there are people cultivating the farms and people herding the ranches, what does it matter to them how many people die outside?"

"And what about the Seireitei?" Saito asked again. "Besides the nobles, what about the Forty-Six Chambers composed of the sages of Soul Society?"

Xuan shook his head: "They probably really don't know. Many people have lived within the high walls of Seireitei since birth, and the furthest they've ever been in their lives is only the first ten districts of Rukongai."

Saito didn't speak again, but silently recovered his spiritual power.

Xuanzhi stood up: "Let's go. Our spiritual energy has almost recovered. If we go any further, we might encounter a group of Void creatures at any time, so we must remain vigilant."

The two set off again, the wind whistling past their ears. Upon entering the territory of District 54 West, the scene before them was even more shocking than before.

As far as the eye could see, there were only ruins—or rather, collapsed mud and wooden walls, smashed to pieces by brute force. Blackened bloodstains were everywhere, along with scattered tattered clothing and broken firewood. Huge, illusory claw marks were deeply embedded in the soil, intertwined with drag marks, extending westward into the forest.

Xuan slowly stopped, closing his eyes to sense the remaining spiritual pressure around him. After a moment, he opened his eyes, his brows furrowing slightly.

"There are no traces of spiritual energy from the battle between the Grim Reapers here."

"How could this be?" Saito frowned instantly. "Doesn't the Seireitei know about the Hollowfication that occurred here? How come no Shinigami have come to wipe it out?"

"I don't know." Xuan's gaze swept over the claw marks on the ground, assessing the strength of the Void Clan.

Finally, Xuan detected some ominous spiritual pressure in his spiritual pressure perception, and there were also some extremely weak spiritual pressure nearby, which should belong to the surviving wandering souls.

"We've found them." Xuan's voice turned cold. "The Void Horde is in District 55 West, and there are still living Soul Reapers."

Upon hearing this, Saito's doubts and resentment vanished, leaving only the sharpness and coldness of death.

As the night grew darker, a low, violent roar suddenly came from the darkness in the west, indistinguishable whether it was a furious howl or the wailing of the night wind through the ruins.

The two figures simultaneously transformed into afterimages, disappearing one after the other into the thick darkness of the night.