Chapter 807: Cut the Name, Not the Flesh
"Blacken, Ichimonji!"
The tip of the brush, soaked in ink, swept across the air, leaving a pitch-black mark.
After releasing the thick, flowing ink, the strange, large brush transformed into a blade, in appearance, it now resembled a naginata, a pole weapon.
Ōetsu Nimaiya, tall and imposing, held the large brush-blade with one hand. A smirk spread across his face as if mocking their weakness.
"He actually released his power..."
Unohana Retsu was visibly surprised, not expecting Ōetsu Nimaiya to take things so seriously.
She had heard about the power of Ichimonji from Kirinji Tenjirō, who had called it the ability to "cut names, not flesh." He had warned her that if she ever saw Nimaiya release his zanpakutō, it was best to stay far away from anything "black."
When she asked for more details, Tenjirō refused to elaborate, only saying it was a frightening ability.
Cutting names, not flesh, and blackening everything...
Taking Tenjirō’s advice to heart, Unohana swiftly moved kilometers away, out of range, to avoid being caught up in the monk’s ability.
The Nova Centurions, fully alert, prepared themselves to fight.
The Worldmind supercomputer attempted to analyze the situation, generating massive data streams.
But amidst the vast ocean of Xandarian data, there was no record of the man standing before them. It was as though he had never existed, leaving no trace of a name or identity as if he were a blank sheet of paper.
Danger... extreme danger...
All nine Nova Centurions were on high alert, watching Nimaiya with unblinking focus, not daring to lower their guard.
Sensing the tension in the Centurions, Ronan, Ebony Maw, and the remaining Black Order members all turned to this mysterious newcomer, wondering how powerful he was.
As they stared at him, an illusion took hold for a moment: the blade in Nimaiya’s hand seemed to transform back into a brush, dripping with thick black ink.
"What’s wrong?"
Nimaiya grinned, holding the weapon, a brush, and a blade. "Can’t tell if it’s a pen or a sword?"
An overwhelming sense of unease crept into their hearts as if theair around them trembledg. The Nova Centurions, unable to stand the growing tension, launched the first attack against Nimaiya.
They couldn’t yet analyze his weakness, but this wasn’t an unfamiliar situation.
Against an enemy with unknown abilities, the rule was never to get too close. The nine Nova Centurions surrounded Nimaiya, forming a circle around him. Bright golden beams of energy shot from their palms, unleashing a powerful shockwave aimed at him.
"Did we get him?"
One of the Centurions nervously asked, staring at the center of the attack.
But a deep black bloom appeared like a lotus flower within the intense golden light, and the Nova Force was dissolved into nothingness.
Swish—
The brush-blade sliced through the air, flinging black ink everywhere.
The ink splattered across the battlefield like torrential rain, staining an area of several kilometers in messy black strokes.
Once again, something strange was happening...
The Centurions narrowed their eyes. Their energy attacks had been inexplicably erased.
"If ranged attacks won’t work, we’ll go in close!"
The Centurions exchanged a glance, unleashing even more brilliant golden energy. Winds whipped through the air as they prepared to charge, "Avoid that strange blade, and aim for his body!"
Three Centurions aimed their palms at Nimaiya, firing beams of energy directly at him.
Boom—
A massive shockwave spread out, vaporizing the ground for meters around them. A deep chasm appeared, thick smoke rising, forming a mushroom cloud.
Before the dust could settle, six beams of golden light shot through the rolling smoke.
Using the obscured vision to their advantage, the six Centurions attacked Nimaiya from different directions. Their fists, glowing with golden light, crackled with energy.
Closer, closer... they were almost upon him.
They could see the towering figure of Nimaiya through the smoke, and he seemed unaware of their approach.
In an instant, the six Centurions vanished from sight, only to reappear from six angles, their fists raised, ready to strike with lethal force.
"Found you!"
When they closed in, Nimaiya turned sharply, grinning mockingly.
With movements too fast to follow, Nimaiya swung his brush blade, instantly delivering over a dozen slashes, splattering black ink across the six Centurions. They had no time to dodge and were hit by the inky splashes.
"Retreat!"
Realizing they had been hit, the six Centurions quickly backed out of the smoke, feeling their chests in alarm.
But they were surprised when they touched the areas where they had been struck.
There were no wounds. The strange blade hadn’t left a mark on their bodies, only dark ink stains soaked into their skin.
Neither the Centurions nor the onlookers could comprehend what had just happened.
The blade had struck, but it hadn’t caused any damage. It had only splattered ink. What was this man trying to do?
But soon, the Centurions began to relax, smirking as they thought they had figured it out.
"As we suspected, your power is troublesome, but it can’t break through our defenses. That’s why you couldn’t harm us!"
The golden energy surrounding the Centurions had protected them from the strange attack, preventing any damage.
"You’ve got to be kidding!"
Star-Lord, who had been watching, felt a wave of despair. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "He put on such a big show, and this is all he can do? We’re doomed!"
"It seems we overestimated you."
The Centurions sneered, their golden auras glowing brighter. "You can’t even break through our energy shields. Is this the best you can do? And you dared challenge us? We... we... we..."
The Centurion stammered.
We... what?
His pupils contracted as he realized something horrifying—he couldn’t remember the name of their corps.
"Hmm?"
Nimaiya cupped his ear as if to listen more closely. "What were you trying to say?"
The Centurions stood frozen, eyes wide with shock, unable to speak.
"What’s the name of your corps?"
Nimaiya’s thick eyebrows lifted as he smiled slyly. "And not just your corps’ name—do you remember the name of that power you wield?"
As Nimaiya’s questions sank in, the Centurions’ faces grew even darker. Terror flickered in their eyes. They couldn’t remember the name of their corps, nor could they recall the name of the power within them.
"Don’t you know?"
Nimaiya’s voice deepened, his tone heavy with meaning. "No, you do know. You... have no name!"
No name...?
The Centurions’ hearts pounded in disbelief as they began to grasp the truth behind Nimaiya’s power.
"Anything that Ichimonji blackens loses its name,"
Nimaiya said, casually walking toward them with his brushblade. "A thing without a name has no power. A nameless corps, a nameless power—how could you possibly kill me?"
Without a name, something loses all its strength.
What Nimaiya had erased with his brush was not the Nova Force itself but the name of the Nova Force within the Centurions.
With its name gone, the Centurions could no longer remember their power or identity.
This was Ichimonji, the zanpakutō that strips all things of their names and alters reality.
