Bleach: Watch Closely, This Is How You Use a Zanpakutō novel Chapter 210

Chapter 210 - 210: World

Most people recognized Retsu Unohana's uniqueness, but they mostly admired and revered her. Only Masatsuki Aozaki could entertain such a disrespectful thought.

A sharp whistle of a blade cutting through the air rang in her ears, accompanied by the rhythmic tapping of straw sandals on the ground. A massive dark shadow surged upward—a demon clad in a white haori leaping into the air, brandishing a curved long blade as it came crashing down.

She swung her right hand with force, slashing the sharp blade diagonally downward.

Masatsuki Aozaki raised his sword horizontally against his left arm. The blade tilted slightly downward, reddish-brown sparks scattering as it fell.

Retsu Unohana's left hand emerged from her sleeve.

Masatsuki Aozaki saw the wakizashi in Unohana's grasp aimed at his upper right abdomen—right where the liver was.

Ordinarily, even without a sword, a heavy blow from a fist alone would be enough to cause unbearable pain.

For a brief moment, Masatsuki Aozaki deliberated but ultimately chose to extend his left hand, striking the wakizashi's blade.

It wasn't a Zanpakutō, just an ordinary sword, but in Retsu Unohana's hands, enhanced by her Reiatsu, it became a fearsome and deadly weapon.

Under equal levels of Reiatsu, no ordinary Shinigami could block that wakizashi with their body—even with Masatsuki Aozaki's exceptional physique, it was impossible.

"It seems you haven't forgotten what I taught you."

Retsu Unohana straightened, turning to face him. Her eyes radiated killing intent—she was fully immersed in the fight.

"Niten Ichi-ryū. You taught me yourself. How could I forget?"

Masatsuki Aozaki's gaze was equally cold as he swung a backhand slash at Unohana's chest.

In this country, any mention of dual-blade swordsmanship inevitably brought to mind the famed swordsman Miyamoto Musashi.

His style, "Niten Ichi-ryū," involved wielding a long sword in the right hand and a short sword in the left.

Other dual-blade styles followed a similar principle—one hand holding a long blade, the other a short one.

When the left hand wielded the short sword and the right held the long sword, it was called "standard dual-blade style." Reversing the grip was known as "inverted dual-blade style."

Niten Ichi-ryū was a rare martial art, seldom practiced.

Fighting with two swords required wielding them one-handed, naturally diminishing the striking power compared to the two-handed slashes of a single-sword style.

Furthermore, dual-blade combat could be distracting—victory or defeat often hinged on a split second of absolute focus.

A single moment of carelessness could lead to utter defeat.

However, dual-blade combat placed greater emphasis on technique—using the unpredictable nature of two swords to confound the enemy and seize victory.

As Soul Society's greatest master of swordsmanship, Retsu Unohana had naturally mastered various dual-blade techniques.

The very essence of such a style was its unorthodox and unpredictable nature—there was no concept of a "sneak attack." Masatsuki Aozaki would never consider it an offense.

Under normal circumstances, he might have teased her about it.

But at this moment, he knew all too well that saying something inappropriate would only earn her ire.

The only thing that could satisfy her now was the cold steel of a blade.

Retsu Unohana gave a slight nod—this man pleased her more and more.

With a casual flick of her wrist, she discarded the wakizashi onto the ground.

The gap in strength between them was too great, and Masatsuki Aozaki knew her techniques too well.

This move was only effective if it caught him by surprise.

Continuing to wield it would not only leave her at a disadvantage but also risk having her techniques completely read and countered. Worse yet, it would divide her focus.

"Come on, it's far too early to end this!"

Retsu Unohana lightly ran her hand over the wound on her chest, glancing at the bright crimson blood staining her fingers. The corner of her mouth curled into a chilling smile.

There was an indescribable madness and obsession in her eyes, as if the sight of blood filled her with endless power and ecstasy.

With a soft, almost whisper-like call:

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