Death God: Starting from Refining Essence into Qi

The leaden-gray clouds pressed down even lower, and the smoke and blood swirled on the streets of the northern outer ring road, like a blood-soaked wet cloth, heavily covering the entire ruins.

The collapsed stone wall leaned precariously, with layers of corpses piled at its base, and dark red pools of blood reflecting the dim light of the sky.

The situation was redefined the moment Wang Tuchuan and Yu Xuji appeared.

Unohana Yachiru's gaze shifted from Hubert Alexander Kleich to John Saidlitz, who was slowly approaching. Her fingertips casually traced the blade, beads of blood rolling down and dripping into the blood-soaked puddle at her feet, creating ripples of dark red. Her spiritual pressure subsided, yet grew increasingly dangerous, like a lurking beast sensing fresh prey, a barely suppressed excitement surging beneath her calm surface.

On the other side, Wang Tuchuan Yu Xuji's figure was shrouded in the shadows beside Hubert Alexander Kleich, his hat pulled low, obscuring his expression.

Hubbard Alexander Kleich flicked his wrist, his rapier twirling in a clean arc, the blade pointing diagonally towards the ground. His brow furrowed, a flicker of displeasure crossing his icy blue eyes; clearly, he was still bothered by John Saidlitz's interference.

His gaze swept over the silent Grim Reaper beside him, and he straightened his pure white military cap.

"It seems your arrival has brought a new opponent." As he spoke, Huber Alexander Kleich turned his sword, the tip pointing steadily at Wang Tuchuan Yuxuji.

But with a touch of Western aristocratic arrogance in his tone, he continued to John Saidlitz, "Let me remind you, activate your Bloodlust Gear and hold out against that woman until I take care of this enemy."

Wang Tuchuan and Yu Xuji said, "Now that you've finished your last words, it's my turn to send you off to your funeral—Duchuan."

Wang Tuchuan and Yu Xuji gripped the tsuba tightly with their fingertips, and the Zanpakuto emitted a clear, resonant hum. A ghostly blue light spread along the blade, extending the blade and lengthening the hilt, instantly transforming into a long, cyan-handled scythe. The blade shimmered with fine water droplets, and a chill crept up the hilt to their fingertips.

"Wash it." Wang Tuchuan and Yu Xuji's voices were as faint as mist on the water, barely audible.

As he swung his scythe in a horizontal slash, a misty spray gushed from the blade, spreading along the street and instantly enveloping an area several meters in a white fog. The mist felt icy cold on the skin, and inhaling it made one's mind heavy; the deeper one went, the more blurred one's vision and senses became. Hubert Alexander Kleish frowned, spreading his spiritual pressure to probe, but he could only catch fragments of water shadows, unable even to pinpoint the opponent's location.

Wang Tuchuan and Yu Xuji lunged forward, their sickles swirling and twisting like a relentless crescent moon, each strike heavier and more dangerous than the last. They bent low, hooking and grabbing straight for the ankles and knees, then reversed and slashed diagonally at the shoulder blades and collarbones. When their footwork faltered, they used the momentum of the long handle to pull the blade back to its original position.

Due to the sickle's unique attack method, Hubbard Alexander Kleich felt as if he were being attacked from both sides at the same time, and it was the first time he had experienced the troublesome nature of this strange weapon.

Huber Alexander Kleish focused intently, unleashing the full power and speed amplified by his Bloodstained Armor. Pale blue sword shadows overlapped, weaving an impenetrable net of blades before him. Each clash of swords sent up a burst of blinding sparks, the aftershocks of the spiritual pressure collision spreading outwards, scattering blood from the puddles on the ground.

The cyan scythe sliced ​​through the mist, leaving trails of gleaming silver light that lingered in the vapor for a long time. Huber Alexander Kleich swung his sword to disperse the mist before him, which then coalesced again. He retreated step by step, the only sounds being his own breathing and the whistling of his sword. A growing anxiety rose in his heart, and his mind seemed to grow increasingly clouded.

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

On the other side of the street, the battle between Unohana Yachiru and John Saidlitz has also begun.

John Saidlitz stood still, gripping two spirit pistols in his hands. His short, silver-gray hair was neatly trimmed to his temples, and a pure black eyepatch covered his left eye, leaving only his right eye, which held a cold and stern expression. In the instant a glint of light appeared at his fingertips, both pistols were already leveled in front of him, their muzzles firmly locked onto Unohana Yachiru, several feet away.

With a slight twitch of his index finger, two spirit bullets were fired from the barrel.

The blue spirit bullet, accompanied by a sharp whistle, shot towards Unohana Yachiru's brow and heart, its speed far exceeding that of ordinary spirit arrows. As the bullet pierced the air, it left two pale blue trails, tracing two straight streaks of light across the dim battlefield, the air along its path slightly heated by the high-speed friction.

Unohana Yachiru sidestepped, easily dodging the bullet. The high-speed spinning spirit bullet grazed her hair, struck the broken wall behind her, and exploded with a loud bang, creating two deep holes, sending rubble and dust flying everywhere.

Her eyes flickered slightly, but she didn't stop walking. Stepping over the rubble and bloodstains, she quickly approached John Saidlitz.

Her steps were eerily steady, her pace even and deliberate, each step landing precisely in the gaps between bullets. Her experience in dismantling thousands of different weapons was ingrained in her very being; without conscious thought, she saw through the limitations of this type of firearm at a glance—like most concealed weapons, it could only attack in a straight line, making it difficult to engage in close combat.

John Saidlitz's boots were covered in a thin layer of spiritual energy, which propelled him backward. He fired his twin pistols alternately, firing a continuous stream of spiritual energy bullets, like a continuous rain of blue light, enveloping Unohana Yachiru.

His shooting accuracy was terrifying. Every bullet he fired predicted the direction of Unohana Yachiru's advance. Some bullets even grazed the broken wall and deflected, attacking from unexpected directions with tricky and vicious angles.

His breathing was as steady as if it were still, and his action of pulling the trigger was without the slightest hesitation. At the same time as the left gun fired, the right gun had already completed the convergence and aiming of spiritual energy, and the two guns were seamlessly connected, forming a dense network of fire.

Unohana Yachiru weaved through the hail of bullets, her figure like a ghost. Her steps were sometimes fast, sometimes slow; she seemed to be dodging to the left, but the next second she would veer to the right; one moment she was standing still, the next she had already darted several feet away.

She always managed to dodge bullets at the last second, maneuvering with ease as she tilted her head and turned. If a bullet was about to come close, she would simply raise her knife and lightly deflect it. In just a few breaths, she had closed the distance considerably, the knife in her hand gleaming with a cold, sharp light.

"You seem to have faced this type of attack before," John Saidlitz said coldly, his dual pistols firing rhythmically without faltering.

The moment the words left her lips, the stone slab beneath Unohana Yachiru's feet suddenly cracked.

She suddenly lunged forward, unleashing her Instant Step to its fullest extent, leaving behind a trail of afterimages pierced by several bullets. In an instant, her true form appeared beside John Saidlitz, her Zanpakuto flashing with a sharp, cold light as it swept horizontally towards his wrists.

John Saidliz's pupils contracted slightly, clearly not expecting Unohana Yachiru's speed to increase so suddenly. He hurriedly switched his grip on the gun to reverse, intending to block the attack.

"Snap—"

A crisp metallic snapping sound rang out. The barrels of the two spirit pistols were cleanly severed, the cuts as smooth as mirrors. The stubs of the barrels spun and flew out, landing on the gravel with a clanging sound, rolling several feet before coming to a stop.

Unohana Yachiru did not continue her attack. Instead, she stood still, sheathed her sword, and calmly said, "Show me what else you have to offer."

In her view, the destruction of these spirit-constructed firearms was tantamount to crippling the enemy's henchmen. Without the support of ranged attacks, the ensuing close combat would be a foregone conclusion.

Judging from the previous conversation between the two Quincy, their status and strength should not be that different, and the other party's strength should not be only at this level.

John Saidlitz remained unfazed. Blue light surged in his palm, and pure spiritual energy spread along the gun barrels, causing the broken parts to regenerate at a visible speed. In the blink of an eye, both pistols were restored to their original condition, without even a trace of a crack.

"Weapons made of spirit particles are not meant to break." He raised his gun again, aiming the muzzle at Unohana Yachiru once more, and two bayonets condensed at the lower end of the pistol barrel.

With a flick of her wrist, Unohana Yachiru instantly erased the two-meter distance, the blade whistling as it sliced ​​through the air, aiming straight for John Saidliz's face.

John Saidlitz raised his gun and fired, a bullet with an intricate pattern flying towards the blade. The bullet collided with the blade, exploding with a bang into a burst of pale blue light.

Using the force of the recoil, he drifted backward, his other hand slightly lowering the muzzle of the gun, aiming at Unohana Yachiru's waist and abdomen.

With a light tap of her toes, Unohana Yachiru leaped into the air, easily dodging the underhanded attack. She spun in mid-air, her long hair flowing freely as the blade slashed down diagonally.

John Saidlitz parried with his bayonet as the blades crossed. In that instant, he felt his wrist go weak, and even after dissipating the force, his feet involuntarily slid back two steps, his boots carving two deep furrows into the stone slab.

He then truly realized that the woman's power was far more terrifying than it appeared. Her slender body seemed to harbor a bloodthirsty beast, ready to devour everything once unleashed.

Blood dripped from John Saidlitz's hand, staining his white uniform and spreading into glaring dark red patches. As the distance between them increased again, he continued firing.

Unohana Yachiru wanted to pursue, but inevitably shifted her center of gravity and paused while swinging her sword. To maintain her original speed, she had to either turn her body or her sword. However, facing the rapid-fire of pistol bullets, both turning her body and her sword would leave openings, so the two maintained a certain distance between them.

John Saidlitz was not worried that a war of attrition would be disadvantageous to him, because all the spirit bullets were drawn from spirit particles in the air, and the Flying Kick used when retreating did not cause a lot of physical exertion like the Instant Step.

Unohana Yachiru's attacks grew increasingly fierce, and the flashing blades in front of her seemed to weave a net.

The two were like two wild beasts tearing at each other in the mud, each waiting for the other to reveal a fatal flaw first.

As Unohana Yachiru drew ever closer, John Saidlitz's eyes darkened, and both pistols simultaneously unleashed an even brighter blue light. The next second, the bullet velocity suddenly increased, and the previously continuous rain of light transformed into a barrage of bullets, engulfing Unohana Yachiru from all sides.

This was the strongest firepower he could unleash in a short period of time. His spiritual energy consumption surged dramatically, resulting in a comprehensive, all-encompassing attack. He refused to believe that his opponent could approach unscathed under such a dense barrage of bullets.

Wherever the barrage passed, the stone slabs on the ground were riddled with holes, broken walls and debris flew everywhere, and even the air was scorched by the friction of the dense spiritual particles.

As the barrage of comments rained down, a bloodthirsty smile involuntarily crept onto Unohana Yachiru's lips. Although Shinigami cannot continuously propel themselves by manipulating external spiritual particles, a trained Shinigami can more than afford to construct a solid spiritual particle platform in the air for a short time using their own spiritual power.

She suddenly leaped into the air, took a step on the platform she had constructed with spiritual power, and flew over the barrage of bullets like an arrow, heading straight for John Saidlitz.

Gravel and dust rose from the ground, but Unohana Yachiru swung her sword from the air, the blade reflecting the blue light of the spirit bullets, as cold as the moon in the heavens.

In an instant, her blade appeared before John Saidlitz. The moment the blade touched the skin of his neck, John Saidlitz felt his breath catch in his throat, as if time had stretched out in an instant. He could even feel the cold blade pressing down little by little, carrying an undeniable killing intent, cutting through his skin bit by bit.

Unohana Yachiru tilted her head, her gentle gaze fixed on the spot where the long sword met her flesh, a scene filled with an indescribable sense of horror.

A blue light flashed in John Saidliz's eyes, and his body seemed to be awakened by the long-lost feeling of fighting and pain, returning him to his youthful state.

In an instant, his abdomen contracted sharply, and his upper body tilted to one side. Unohana Yachiru's blade merely sliced ​​through his uniform and a thin layer of skin from his neck to his shoulder, revealing pale pink flesh. Because the attack was so fast, blood didn't even have time to seep from the wound.

Taking advantage of the moment before Unohana Yachiru could change her move, John Saidlitz slammed his right elbow into Unohana Yachiru's ribs. At the same time, instead of retreating, he advanced with his feet, raised his left hand to hold the pistol directly against Unohana Yachiru's abdomen, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

"Bang—"

At close range, the bullets exploded almost touching the fabric.

Unohana Yachiru dodged the bullet with a whirlwind, the bullet grazing her waist and abdomen, tearing the fabric of her Shinigami uniform. But this was a spirit bullet from one of the top ten Quincy in the world; even though it was just a graze, the tearing and pulling effect of the high-speed spinning bullet still left a groove-like wound on her skin.

Unohana Yachiru brushed her fingertips across the wound on her side, a faint trace of blood on her fingertips. She looked up at John Saidlitz, her eyes blazing with fervent fighting spirit and excitement.

A crimson spiritual pressure slowly rose around her body, and the blood-red puddle beneath her feet was shaken by an invisible force, causing fine ripples to spread outwards in concentric circles.

The leaden-gray clouds pressed down heavily, and that crimson spiritual pressure, like a wisp of fire about to start a prairie fire, burned ever brighter in the dim world, reflecting the slightly upturned corners of her lips and the undisguised, frenzied fighting spirit surging in her eyes.

"Swastika."

"All gone."