Boom!
A crushing sound echoed through the Forest of Menos as Gosuke Shigure's blade pressed down with overwhelming force, obliterating a towering Gillian-class Menos in a single swing. The massive Hollow collapsed without resistance—an ant before a hurricane.
Yoruichi darted through the battlefield using Shunpo, weaving between the Hollow hordes like a phantom. She struck with precise Hakuda blows, her fists and feet crashing into masked faces and torsos, felling multiple Hollows.
But some kept getting back up.
Tired of their persistence, she sighed and drew the Zanpakutō from her waist. With one clean cut, she dispatched the Hollow before her, its mask splitting in two before vanishing into spiritual mist.
She frowned.
Yoruichi didn't like using her Zanpakutō—not because she wasn't capable, but because it didn't align with her style. Against Shinigami, her Hakuda was enough. But these were Hollows—specifically Menos-class—and many of them possessed High-Speed Regeneration, an advanced ability allowing them to recover from nearly all but the most fatal wounds.
And while Hakuda could work, it was inefficient. High-Speed Regeneration consumed a Hollow's spiritual pressure, but that didn't help if she had to land multiple decisive blows per target. Time was a luxury they couldn't afford.
So, reluctantly, she used her Zanpakutō.
Across the field, Gosuke Shigure completed his sweep. His sword pressure had already reduced the enemy's numbers to ash and dust. With the area momentarily cleared, the two regrouped.
"We move," he said calmly, not even out of breath.
Yoruichi gave a quick nod, but couldn't help voicing her frustration. "There are way too many Hollows here."
"Understandable," he replied. "This is the 407th Forest of Menos Grande. Your first visit, I assume."
Yoruichi narrowed her eyes. "You say that like you're not a first-timer, Sensei."
A knowing smirk crossed her face. "You've been here before, haven't you?"
Gosuke chuckled, then gently rapped his knuckles against her forehead. "Ridiculous. This is my first time in this lifetime."
He paused before adding dryly, "But I've noticed—your respect for your teacher is rapidly deteriorating."
Yoruichi grinned. "No helping that. You're way too casual, old man. And I'm not a little girl anymore."
"Mm. Speaking of age—you're starting to sound like a grandma."
"You better hope Grandpa doesn't hear you say that," she quipped.
They both laughed, and for a moment, the grim setting felt lighter.
But Gosuke Shigure hadn't been entirely honest.
He had been to the Forest of Menos before—in a past life. His familiarity with the terrain, the Hollow behavior, the patterns—they all came from experience long buried beneath reincarnation. The forest hadn't changed in over a thousand years. Why would it? Hollows did not build. They consumed and killed. Structure, progress, design—these were foreign to their nature.
Even before Sōsuke Aizen's arrival in Hueco Mundo, Las Noches was little more than a decaying ruin. And Baraggan Louisenbairn, the so-called "King of Hueco Mundo," had little more than a crumbling fortress and a crown. It was Aizen who reconstructed Las Noches into something grand—a true landmark. It was Aizen who elevated Hueco Mundo from savage wilderness to something with form.
After Aizen's defeat, however, Hueco Mundo rapidly declined. With no ruler, no vision, and no order, the realm became a wasteland again—vulnerable to any invader, defenseless.
Still, Gosuke Shigure pressed on.
He followed a vague instinct, a tug deep in his spirit pulling him further into the forest's heart. He didn't understand the source, but given his bizarre life—reincarnation, time travel—it wasn't surprising. He trusted the feeling. Intuition had rarely failed him before.
Along their path, more Hollows appeared.
Naturally.
This was their domain. To not encounter resistance would be suspicious.
Yet none posed a real threat.
One after another, Gosuke cleaved through them with precision and minimal effort. Miscellaneous Hollows. Gillian. Even the occasional Adjuchas.
Blood sprayed. Masks shattered. The forest floor became a graveyard.
Yoruichi knew her teacher was powerful. After all, he bore the title of Kenpachi—the strongest combatant of each generation.
But traveling beside him like this gave her a new appreciation.
He hadn't even released his Zanpakutō.
Not once.
No Shikai. No Bankai.
His sealed blade alone, paired with flawless technique and spiritual control, was enough to level armies.
Watching him, Yoruichi found new resolve.
She never liked relying on her Zanpakutō either. She wasn't a swordswoman. Her power came from speed—Shunpo—and close-quarters combat—Hakuda. Gosuke-sensei's strength showed her that sheer slashing power could stand without special abilities.
So could she stand tall with only her fists and speed?
This forest, then, was perfect for training. Endless Hollows. Real combat experience. No simulations.
At first, she feared using Hakuda alone would be too slow. But now she saw potential in the process.
Gosuke cut down another Menos Grande with a casual flick of sword pressure. As the creature vanished into the void, Yoruichi stepped forward.
"Sensei," she said. "Let me handle the next group."
Gosuke tilted his head. "Oh?"
She offered no explanation—just a smirk.
In the next instant, she vanished using Shunpo, materializing in front of a Hollow cluster with a flurry of blows. Fists, elbows, knees—every strike was efficient and crushing. She moved like lightning, masking her spiritual presence while unleashing precise, deadly force.
Gosuke didn't interfere.
Instead, he sheathed his blade and sat on one of the fossil-like trees, watching from above.
"You really are trying to refine your Hakuda here…" he said to himself.
He noticed something more: Yoruichi was also integrating Kidō—casting low-level spells in rapid succession to bind or disorient her foes mid-combat.
It was a dangerous combination—Shunpo, Hakuda, Kidō.
That was the true strength of the Shihōin clan.
With time, it would become unstoppable.
"She's starting to build her own style," Gosuke murmured, pride flickering in his eyes.
And as Yoruichi tore through another wave of enemies without drawing her blade, the once-endless forest echoed with her rhythm—a harmony of movement, force, and determination.