Chapter 781: A Woman’s Heart, Don’t Guess
The Hell of No Return became a murky grey.
As the beautiful sword light swept through, it seemed as if the entire space had been cut apart.
The surrounding void was like a shattered three-dimensional mirror, falling from the sky like raindrops. Each piece of broken void refracted and twisted images and scenes, creating a uniquely broken beauty.
Blue currents slowly rose, and grey dust gently fell.
It appeared as a scene of chaos separating into clarity and ambiguity, with the rise and fall of these two forces reshaping heaven and earth, and from there, all things were born.
Lord stood in the centre of the twisted void, dressed in unblemished white. The blade in his hand dissolved into particles and vanished, withdrawing the spiritual pressure and presence he had released as if nothing had happened.
Moments later, he began to stroll towards Azalea Thousand Streams.
Azalea Thousand Streams lay calmly on the ground, her black hair wildly spread out. Her Zanpakuto had returned to its initial released state; the blade shaped like a waning moon, covered in dense cracks as if it could shatter at any moment.
Once a Zanpakuto is damaged in its Bankai state, it can never be fully repaired.
Unless the god of swords himself intervenes, even Mayuri Kurotsuchi can only modify it, not restore it.
Azalea Thousand Streams’ Zanpakuto was not damaged during its Bankai, but with such severe damage, it would likely take a long time to repair fully.
However, Azalea’s injuries were far more terrifying than the damage to her Zanpakuto.
In her effort to forcibly receive Lord’s sword technique, nearly half of her body was almost obliterated. An average person would have died on the spot from such injuries; she was only alive because of the lingering effects of her zanpakuto.
But if this continued, Azalea Thousand Streams was sure to die.
That sword technique was not just a move but also an extremely domineering sword intent that could even cut through space. If Azalea were left untreated, even her Zanpakuto would not heal such wounds.
"I... lost..."
Azalea seemed to be murmuring to herself, an arm covering her face, hiding her expression.
But still, Lord saw the tears that slipped from the corners of her eyes.
"I never imagined... I could be so incompetent." Azalea bit her lip, trying to control her trembling voice: "It’s ironic, isn’t it? I, who have always pursued combat, couldn’t even make you fight with all your strength."
Lord remained silent, knowing well that Azalea was just venting.
"Having only seen my sword technique, you could replicate it perfectly, even exceeding the original power." Blood seeped from Azalea’s bitten lip: "Your talent is so immense, yet my weakness constrains it..."
"For a swordsman, that is a great shame."
"You’ve surpassed me, so naturally, you should take my life and step higher upon it."
"You’re wrong, Azalea."
Lord shook his head, removed his white cloak, and draped it over Azalea, nearly naked.
"Is that not how it is?" Azalea raised her arm, her eyes misty.
"I told you from the beginning."
Under her puzzled gaze, Lord calmly said: "The things I pursue are not the name of the strongest, nor the combat instinct or swordsmanship. They are just processes and means, not the ultimate goals. So you don’t need to blame yourself."
"What... are you pursuing?" Azalea trembled slightly, her eyes showing confusion and misunderstanding as she stared at him, trying to see through his thoughts: "Why do you wield your sword? Where is your path?"
"In time... you’ll understand."
Lord smiled and did not answer her question. Instead, he gently placed his hand on Azalea’s forehead: "Everyone has their pursuits, so that I won’t deny your way of life. But I hope you can live well, then find with your own eyes the things truly worth dying for, not just for that empty and boring... strongest."
"Me, a person burdened with sins... what kind of life can I have?" Azalea murmured: "Perhaps dying in battle is the best ending for me."
"Well... then change it." Lord smiled and suggested: "From now on, stop killing; start saving lives."
"Save... people?"
Azalea was astonished, then speechlessly said: "Asking a murderer to save people, I don’t understand how you think."
"Haha, because it’s interesting."
Lord chuckled: "Besides, I’d love to see you saving people; it must be more beautiful than now."
"Do you think I am not beautiful enough with a sword?" Azalea squinted her eyes and smiled back.
"Well, it’s just too violent." L oblivious to the mood, Lord continued: "And you’re thousands of years old; waving weapons around doesn’t look good. If you keep this up, no one will dare marry you."
The temperature around suddenly dropped, and a visible chill hung in the air.
A dense black aura wrapped around Azalea’s face, veins bulging: "Then... I really should thank you for lecturing a thousand-year-old granny!"
"Uh... I didn’t mean that!"
Realising the mood had soured, Lord quickly waved his hands and nervously said: "Look at how well you maintain your skin, soft and smooth and so white, especially your figure; it’s amazing, you don’t look thousands of years old at all."
Thump thump thump...
Azalea’s forehead veins throbbed, and she smiled: "Where is your hand?"
Lord looked down and immediately broke out in a cold sweat.
This was bad; he had been distracted from talking and had moved his hand to... that sacred twin peak again.
He could swear on his honour, but it was unintentional!
"Hey, Spirit King."
Azalea smiled, clenching her fist: "Bite down hard, don’t let go."
Bang—!
A powerful punch with armour-piercing impact.
Lord screamed as his eyes bore a punch mark, flying back hundreds of meters.
Azalea slowly stood up, wearing the oversized cloak, a blush of shame and anger on her cheeks: "If you dare to touch again, don’t blame me for chopping off your hand!"
"Ouch, ouch... you hit hard!"
Lord covered his blackened eye, hissing in pain: "And I didn’t mean to, and to think I got punched for nothing after healing you."
"Hmph."
Azalea turned away, pulling at the white cloak to cover her exposed skin.
"Since it’s settled, let’s go back together."
Lord, whose black eye quickly healed, cheerfully got up and extended an invitation: "The captain position of Squad Four, I’ve been keeping it for you. Want to try it? Can you start over now?"
"Squad Four, huh..."
Azalea’s eyes softened, and she chuckled: "Maybe that’s a good choice."
"Then it’s settled."
Seeing her not refusing, Lord finally relaxed and lightly said: "From now on, you are the captain of Squad Four."
Just as Lord was about to lead her away, a hand reached out from behind and quietly tugged at his sleeve.
"Hmm?"
Lord turned to see Azalea looking down: "Is there something else?"
"Yes..."
Azalea replied softly, her head still lowered, making it impossible to see her expression: "Since it’s a new beginning, how about giving me a new name? As if to completely leave the past behind, what do you think?"
"Um..."
Lord thought momentarily, then smiled: "Then let’s call you Azalea... Retsu, as in fiery and upright."
"That’s a... very fitting name for me."
Azalea slowly raised her head, tenderly smiling: "Thank you. I will cherish this name."
The unparalleled evil of the Soul Society, Azalea Thousand Streams, died in the Hell of No Return.
At the same time.
Carrying the mission to save lives, the new captain of Squad Four, Azalea Retsu, was reborn in the Hell of No Return.
