Death God: Starting from Refining Essence into Qi

Xuan lowered his hand from the wound. The inner fabric of his Shinigami uniform clung tightly to the wound, soaked in blood, and hardened against his skin after drying.

Although Gen was inside Unohana's Shikai Flesh Droplet, he was relatively at ease with his situation. Firstly, he was powerless to resist if Unohana wanted to kill him, and secondly, he wasn't worried about being attacked, because no one would be foolish enough to attack Unohana, who exuded such a strong aura of blood and killing intent.

Those who cultivate the Tao value following their own heart. For Unohana Yachiru, the heart is probably the very act of fighting. Just as Unohana's opening words state: Fighting is everything.

"A demonic cultivator," Xuan sighed inwardly. Unfortunately, at this moment, the demons were one step ahead of the righteous, and Xuan was completely outmatched. Xuan could only try his best to reform them in the future.

Despite his words, his current condition was quite poor. His spiritual energy was so depleted that only a few wisps of residual pure energy remained, slowly circulating like the last few trickles of water at the bottom of a riverbed during a drought, barely maintaining the basic functioning of his spiritual body.

As he felt the flesh-sucking medicine slowly healing his body, Xuan vaguely recalled the Qi-dispersing therapy, which was recorded in classics such as "Baopuzi Neipian" and "Yunji Qiqian".

However, because Xuan did not cultivate internal energy in his previous life, and modern medicine is advanced and there is no need for Taoists to treat and save people, he does not pay attention to the Qi-dispersing therapy, and does not know how to treat it.

Instead, you should think about your Zanpakuto and your future training path.

After Zhenyuan broke, Xuan released its Shikai, allowing it to return to its shallow form. Similarly, a Shinigami's Shikai, once damaged, can be naturally repaired through prolonged nurturing.

Xuan suddenly wanted to laugh.

In my past life, I read in the *Taishang Huangting Neijing Yujing* that "the nine true beings of Niwan all have their own rooms, each an inch in diameter," a description of the brain's spiritual energy structure in Taoist internal alchemy. Now, ironically, I have a Taoist temple in my Niwan Palace, and beneath that temple lies a Mirror Abyss. The two sword spirits truly live up to that phrase, "the nine true beings of Niwan all have their own rooms"—except one lives in a fully furnished apartment, and the other in a basement.

Thinking of the sword spirit, Xuan calmed his mind and focused his attention back on the essence of the twin swords.

The theory that "all phenomena are illusions" is a part of the soul of the mysterious world. The ability it displayed in the battle just now was to deceive the senses and distort cognition. As for the illusion that Unohana perceived, it was developed by Gen based on the ability to deceive the senses.

Therefore, Zhenyuan must have originated from that part of the soul in the world of death. Thinking about it this way, it makes sense that he can manipulate external spiritual energy to amplify the power of the ghost path.

The true root of that tearing sensation should be the attraction and repulsion of this world towards the two parts of their souls. Xuan had always felt a lump in his throat about this. During this battle, as Zhenyuan continued to be used, the tearing sensation became so intense that it alarmed him, but it was actually relieved after Zhenyuan was cleaved in two by Unohana. Looking back now, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. How could he prevent the tearing sensation from becoming increasingly severe?

Xuan lowered his eyes and mentally considered all possible solutions.

The world exerts a gravitational pull on the souls of this world. This gravitational pull strengthens as the world grows larger, and the anchoring force continues to rise.

This explains why the tearing sensation increases when using Zhenyuan. Zhenyuan corresponds to the soul of this world, and cultivating and using Zhenyuan will increase the gravity exerted by the world, which will naturally intensify the tearing sensation.

If you only strengthen the soul of this world and do not cultivate the soul of another world, the repulsive force of the soul of another world will remain unchanged.

However, the total capacity of souls within a spirit body is limited. When the size of the soul in Zhenyuan's own world exceeds a certain critical point, the living space left for souls from other worlds within the spirit body will be greatly compressed.

Ultimately, the world will strip the otherworldly soul from its spirit body, much like an immune system eliminates foreign invaders. Deprived of its spiritual support, the otherworldly soul will either dissipate under the continued repulsion of the world's laws or be forced out of the world itself. Regardless of the outcome, Xuan will cease to exist.

Conversely, if only the souls from other worlds are strengthened, the gravitational pull of souls in this world remains unchanged. As the repulsive force of the world on a soul exceeds a certain threshold, it may be directly repelled from the world.

Thinking about it this way, the only way is clear—the part of the soul from another world must be close in size to the soul of this world.

Even if the combined growth of the two parts of the soul intensifies the tearing sensation, it's only because the attraction and repulsion are increasing simultaneously. As long as both parts of the soul coexist within the spirit body, and the attraction and repulsion aren't strong enough to tear the soul in two, a balance can be maintained. This balance is certainly dangerous, but it is still a state of equilibrium.

Any imbalance will directly lead to the end of one's existence in this world. This is not a matter of the degree of pain or danger, but a matter of one's very existence.

"Tearing" is when two parts are pulled further and further apart, and the tension at the connection point increases; while "stripping" is when a part is directly removed as a whole. As long as the tension at the connection point of the soul is not strong enough to directly tear Xuan's soul apart, Xuan believes he can endure the pain of tearing; but once stripping occurs, everything will be irreversible.

Before Xuan finds the thing that can merge and stabilize the two parts of the soul, as described in the saying "all phenomena are illusions," there is actually only one path he can choose: endure even more intense pain and live on, and with each additional day he survives, he gets closer to finding the solution.

Just then, the Flesh-Dried Stone stopped. It opened its large mouth and spat Xuan onto the ground with a "plop." Xuan nervously checked the condition of his wound; thankfully, it hadn't reopened. It had to be admitted that the Flesh-Dried Stone's healing was very effective; before long, the scabs on his other wounds had scabbed over and fallen off, leaving only the knife wound on his thigh.

Xuan looked up and saw the familiar wooden fence and the stone well. This was the West 20th District, the Ghost Path Clan's Oddities Shop. Sunlight was streaming in from the direction of the forest, bathing the entire cluster of wooden houses in a warm, pale gold.

Unohana Yachiru stood next to Nikushizuki, her black hair falling down her shoulders and arms. Her shihachi armor was almost completely free of dried blood, with only a strong smell of blood emanating from it.

"I look forward to you growing up quickly." Unohana spoke, her voice the same as Gen's memory, only tinged with a chilling killing intent. "I hope it won't be like today again."

After saying this, she released her Shikai, and after her flesh-dropping sword returned to its sheath, she turned and left.

Xuan stood up, leaning on his two asparagus swords. The movement aggravated the wounds on his legs, causing a dull ache. He was about to walk towards the door of the Yorozuya when someone inside noticed him.

"Master Xuan!"

The one-armed youth in charge of accounting was the first to rush out. He was carrying the account book in one hand. When he got close, he suddenly stopped. His eyes fell on the tattered black shihaka uniform and the large dark red bloodstains. His face turned pale instantly.

"You, you—"

"I won't die." Xuan interrupted him, her voice softer than usual. "Help me inside."

Hearing the commotion, many people came to the front desk of Yorozuya to check what was going on.

A-Yuan poked his head out, still clutching a freshly wrung-out rag in his hand. Seeing Xuan's appearance, the rag fell to the ground. Mao Xiong ran over from the direction of the training ground, his sleeves still bearing black scorch marks from the explosion of the Red Fire Cannon. Jiro was the last to come out. The boy rushed out of the Yorozuya, the door slamming against the wall with a dull thud, but the boy didn't care at all; his eyes were wide open, almost bursting.

The wounds on Xuan Si Ba's armor were all clean and sharp knife cuts, clearly not caused by illusory energy.

"Lord Xuan! Who is it?!" Jiro rushed to Xuan, the young man's thin face flushed red, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Who injured you like this?!"

The crowd gathered around, worried about Xuan's injuries.

Xuan looked at the anxious crowd and smiled gently: "I'm temporarily out of danger. Most of my injuries have been healed by the Grim Reaper who just brought me here."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Some asked who had injured Xuan, determined to unite against the common enemy and avenge Xuan when they grew stronger in the future.

Xuan, leaning on his sword, walked into the Yorozuya and said, "The one who hurt me is the Grim Reaper who brought me back."

Everyone was taken aback.

"Her name is Unohana Yachiru," Gen continued. "She has killed over ten thousand people and is an unprecedented and unparalleled villain in Soul Society. You are still too weak; do not provoke her before you have sufficient strength."

The name "Unohana Yachiru" needs no embellishment.

She was a notorious villain, a bloodthirsty demon, one of the few things people talked about in Rukongai, a legend that frightened children. No one expected that the executioner was actually the Grim Reaper who had just escorted Gen back to the Yorozuya.

Mao Xiong gasped in surprise, but subconsciously lowered his voice as he spoke: "Is she crazy?"

Jiro turned and went towards the warehouse, returning with a basin of warm water and a roll of clean cloth. The one-armed youth silently hung a sign on the Yorozuya indicating it was temporarily closed, with an X drawn on it for the illiterate wandering spirits.

A-Yuan asked worriedly, "Lord Xuan, where is Lord Saito? Is she injured too? She hasn't returned yet, is it because..." She stopped speaking, her eyes filled with reluctance.

Gen hadn't thought of that, since the Kido Clan and the other rogue spirits were unaware that Saito and Gen had temporarily separated. Gen didn't answer Gen's question, as he himself didn't know if Saito would return or if anything else had happened to him.

Xuan returned to his room, closed his eyes, and lay down. He was exhausted and needed rest; both his injuries and his spiritual energy needed to recover.

Before falling asleep, Gen thought about Yachiru Unohana. He had managed to return alive this time, but would her sword show mercy the next time they met?

No. Deep within those eyes burned a pure hunger, the anticipation a hunter feels when they see their prey thriving. She waited for him to grow stronger, for him to reach the pinnacle of his potential. When that day came, she would no longer sheath her sword.

There won't be a next time.

Xuan fell into a deep sleep.

-----------------

In the afternoon, Saito returned.

She was still wearing the black eye patch over her left eye, and her purple twin ponytails were a little messy from the wind as she ran. She looked at the wooden sign hanging at the entrance of the Yorozuya, which read "Temporarily Closed".

Saito strode into the Yorozuya.

Xuan sat on a wooden recliner by the training ground, the one no one knew who had made it, with his tattered Shinigami uniform hanging on it.

Xuan had changed into a clean set of dark gray clothes, and the wound on his leg had been re-bandaged with strips of cloth. He was sipping the warm water that A-Yuan had brought him. Zhen Yuan's remains lay on his lap, the cracks in the black and gold arm guards clearly visible in the afternoon sunlight.

Saito stepped forward and walked up to Gen.

"Who did it? Are they dead or not?" she asked succinctly.

Xuan put down the earthenware bowl filled with water: "The flowers of the Rabbit have eight thousand streams, I am about to die."

Saito's pupils contracted slightly: "Did you damage the core of your spiritual pressure?"

Gen, realizing Saito had misunderstood, explained, "I'm fine now, but I almost died after meeting Unohana."

"Why did she contact you?" Saito relaxed, but his voice carried a hint of suppressed danger.

"We bumped into each other on the street."

Saito laughed in exasperation.

Gen knew that with Saito's tendency to help those in need, how could he not demand an explanation from Unohana? He advised, "Calm down. The two of us combined might not be able to beat her. Let's not think about causing trouble for her for now."

Saito curled his lip and complained, "So it's true that families are useless. No noble family can punish this kind of madman who kills people everywhere. It just shows that noble families are worthless. Strength is the only true measure of success."

-----------------

West 15th District, Katori's house.

The air in the side hall was filled with the fragrance of sandalwood. Katori Ukon sat at the head of the table, the celadon teacup in his hand long since cold, yet he hadn't drunk a drop. A servant knelt before him, his voice trembling as he reported news that had just arrived from the 20th ward of the West.

"Gen was injured at the Yorozuya, and he and Unohana Yachiru appeared at the Yorozuya's entrance. According to eyewitnesses, Unohana used a flying creature to bring Gen to the Yorozuya, and then Unohana sheathed him. It is speculated that this was Unohana's Zanpakuto being released."

Katori Ukon's hand, holding the teacup, hovered in mid-air.

"Send it back?"

"Yes. Unohana left after putting the person down."

Katori Ukon gently placed the teacup back on the table, making a very soft tapping sound. Unohana Yachiru hadn't killed anyone; she had even personally escorted him back to his residence.

This style of doing things is so peculiar that it's impossible to fathom it using common sense. Unohana didn't kill Gen? Was it because of their strength? Or is there some connection between them? Or was Gen's injury not caused by Unohana, but simply saved by her? Or is Gen truly from the Shihouin family, and Unohana, fearing the five great noble families, refrained from killing him?

Katori Ukon's thoughts were somewhat confused, but one thing was certain—that Gen had survived Unohana Yachiru's blade.

Xuan Jue is no ordinary wandering Grim Reaper. So that means…

"As expected, they are from the Shihouin family," Katori Ukon murmured, a hint of barely perceptible relief in his voice.

He was glad that he hadn't rashly sent people to put pressure on him.

If Unohana spared Gen's life out of consideration for the five noble families, that would be one thing. But if Gen survived only because he fought Unohana and gained her approval, then the Shihouin family wouldn't even need to lift a finger; Gen alone could have taken care of all her henchmen and Shinigami.

"Bring me some wine." Katori Ukon suddenly spoke, his voice much calmer than before.

The servant kneeling below dared not delay and quickly pushed him down, instructing the others waiting outside the door to fetch wine.

Katori Ukon pushed the teacup aside and watched as the servants placed the sake pot and cups on the table. The amber-colored sake was poured into the cups, gleaming warmly in the glow of the candlelight.

He picked up his wine glass and raised it slightly towards the West 20th District outside the window.

Katori Ukon downed the sake in his glass in one gulp. The liquid slid down his throat, leaving a warm, spicy sensation.

He put down his wine glass and let out a long breath.

"A wise choice," he told himself.