"Sss... Hooo.... Sss.... Hooo....."
The Sternritter's private quarters.
Inside the room, where pale moonlight seeped through the window, Ichigo sat cross-legged on his bed, breaking out in a cold sweat.
In his hands rested a round orb emitting a soft blue glow.
It was the 'Spirit Power Regulator' that Hubert had given him as a gift—or rather, tossed at him—eight months ago.
The device would turn red if his spiritual power exceeded the set threshold even slightly, and it would maintain a blue light as long as he stayed within a stable range.
When Ichigo first received the trainer, the red light had flared so violently he nearly blinded himself.
To avoid seeing that dreaded red light, he had carved out time every night to train consistently. As a result, he was learning to fine-tune his spiritual power much faster than expected.
It wasn't that he lacked the talent to control it; it was simply that he had so much power that managing it was difficult. Once he gained momentum in his training, he became increasingly accustomed to the delicate adjustments.
—Flash.
The orb flickered with a hint of red for a split second before returning to a clear, serene blue.
"Hooo... Let's call it a night."
Only then did Ichigo release his held breath and carefully place the orb back on its stand on the desk. His entire body felt drenched in sweat.
After a quick shower, Ichigo threw himself onto the bed, dressed in light blue pajamas.
The plush texture enveloped his exhausted muscles.
'...Has it been a year already?'
Ichigo stared blankly at the ceiling.
It had been a year since he was brought to Silbern and donned the Quincy uniform.
At first, he was certain he would fail to adapt and end up pathetic, so it was surreal to see how much he had grown, now operating as a somewhat convincing Sternritter.
He had manifested a Heilig Bogen for the first time in front of Hubert.
He had successfully activated Blut just before being beaten to death.
And he had received help from Haschwalth in learning the way of the sword.
The various training sessions had been hellish, but watching himself improve step by step didn't feel bad at all.
With every stage of growth, His Majesty's words about him being his 'biological son' felt just a little bit more real.
".......I really am his son, right?"
Ichigo mumbled, burying his face in his pillow.
His Majesty had claimed to have created him by mixing the powers of five different races. By now, Ichigo couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
When he first heard it, he thought he was some kind of ultimate being where all powers converged.
In reality, he struggled just to keep up with basic Quincy training.
On the contrary, Haschwalth—who was called a 'power-sharing Quincy' and couldn't gather Reishi well—had made rapid progress under Instructor Quilge. He was now able to manifest a Spirit Weapon, his Heilig Bogen, more skillfully and faster than Ichigo.
He didn't feel jealousy or inferiority, but the thought had crossed his mind a few times: if His Majesty truly created him, shouldn't he be more proficient and superior?
'I haven't seen a single trace of the other four races' powers.'
No matter how much he searched, there were no records of something called a 'Fullbringer' even in ancient texts, and even Hubert said he had never heard of it.
Was he really His Majesty's masterpiece?
Him, who was panting just from this level of training?
"Aaaagh, I don't know!"
As his thoughts began to spiral, Ichigo grabbed his head with his pillow.
Despite hearing about his origins from His Majesty and agonizing over his identity for a full year, his true nature still felt like it was drifting far out of reach.
.
.
.
"Haschwalth. Do you not have any friends?"
"...Where is this coming from, Ichigo?"
They were at the Sternritter training grounds, where other Quincies were also training alongside Ichigo and Haschwalth.
Ichigo, who had just finished 300 one-handed push-ups, wiped his sweat and asked the question, causing Haschwalth to pause while polishing his sword.
Ichigo waved his hand as if to say 'don't misunderstand.'
"No, it just occurred to me. I grew up alone with just my grandfather, without any friends. I was wondering what it was like for you."
As Ichigo calmly shared his past, Haschwalth remained silent for a moment, staring at his reflection in the blade before speaking.
"I had one. His name was 'Bazz-B'..."
"...Bazz-B?"
It was a name he had heard somewhere. Ichigo sifted through the fragments of his memory.
A year ago, during his first meeting with Yhwach. The red-haired boy who had collapsed behind Haschwalth, glaring at the space between Yhwach and Haschwalth.
"That red-haired guy from back then...?"
"That's right."
A year ago, on the day Ichigo and Haschwalth first met Yhwach.
[From now on, you shall join the Sternritter as my right-hand man.]
Haschwalth had been flustered by Yhwach's sudden declaration and had tried to say something to him.
[I believe Bazz-B over there... is far more suited to be Your Majesty's subordinate than someone like me...!]
The red-haired boy who had been gritting his teeth while collapsed behind Haschwalth must have been the Bazz-B he was talking about.
"Since we were young, he always looked out for me when I was lacking. My sword... is a blade from the Black family. Bazz-B's real name is 'Bazzard Black'."
'...The Black family...?'
He was sure he had heard that family name somewhere before.
"Hmm..."
Ichigo tried to recall the information but soon gave up on searching for details about the house.
It was a memory from too long ago to retrieve easily.
"So you haven't run into him even once since then?"
When Ichigo asked with slight surprise, Haschwalth nodded.
"...I'm sure that Bazz-B guy will join the Sternritter eventually, right?"
"Most likely. We had a goal, after all."
"A goal?"
Intrigued that Haschwalth had a personal goal, Ichigo's eyes sparkled.
"What is it? Tell me, I'll help you out. Using my authority as His Majesty's biological son and all."
"...This is our business, Ichigo."
Haschwalth shook his head firmly. However, his gaze was softer than before.
"...Fine, if that's how it is. Just make sure to introduce me when he joins the Sternritter."
As Ichigo grinned and smacked his lips, the heavy sound of military boots echoed from the entrance of the training grounds.
It was Hubert, looking much gloomier than usual.
"Oh, Mr. Hubert."
"...Ah, right. Ichigo. Were you training?"
Ichigo greeted Hubert with his usual casual respect, while Haschwalth bowed his head silently.
Hubert reacted to Ichigo with a slight delay and let out a deep sigh.
"I'll have to move up the training schedule. You know I'm teaching other new Sternritter besides you, right?"
Hubert continued, pressing his throbbing temples.
"His Majesty has 'finalized' the start date of the war for four years from now."
"...What did you say...?"
"....?"
For a moment, Ichigo and Haschwalth both wore expressions of pure bewilderment.
The Sternritter were not yet complete, and it was obvious it would take quite some time before they reached that point.
And yet, he had finalized it for four years?
Furthermore, a war?
Against whom?
Just as Ichigo was about to ask with a dazed face, Haschwalth calmly assessed the situation first.
"In that case, we might have to serve as assistant instructors."
"....Yeah, it looks that way."
Hubert clicked his tongue.
With the current lack of talent, Ichigo and Haschwalth—who had only been around for a year—were in a position where they had to teach other Sternritter.
Of course, even though they were Sternritter hand-picked by Yhwach himself, attaining such a high position in just one year felt awkward no matter how one looked at it.
"I'm not very good at teaching, though."
"I don't expect anything from you, Ichigo."
Hubert cut off Ichigo's concern bluntly and clenched his fist.
"I don't know when the day you'll be deployed as assistant instructors will be, but until that day comes, you will be learning Ransōtengai."
"...! Ransōtengai?!"
Ichigo's eyes shone with interest and a desire for a challenge.
It was known as the ultimate combat technique of the Quincy, a skill that only geniuses could use.
By weaving bundles of Reishi threads into immobile parts of the body, a user could forcibly move their limbs to continue fighting, regardless of broken bones or total exhaustion.
Ichigo's heart raced at the prospect of finally seeing a technique he had only heard stories about, but Hubert crushed his expectations immediately.
"Just so we're clear, I can't use Ransōtengai."
"Eh?! Even you can't use it, Mr. Hubert?!"
"...Quiet."
As Ichigo reacted with disbelief, Hubert's eyebrows twitched.
"Ransōtengai is something only the elite among geniuses can use.
It requires meticulous Reishi control, of course, but also the mental strength to endure even while your body is being shattered, and the combat sense to face an opponent while manipulating your own body with spirit threads.
Ransōtengai only truly manifests when all these factors come together."
Hubert then gestured toward Haschwalth with his chin.
"Quilge Opie, who is teaching that guy, is currently the only Quincy in the Sternritter who can use Ransōtengai perfectly. So, Ichigo, you'll be receiving lessons on Ransōtengai from Quilge."
Hearing that, Ichigo's expression hardened as he muttered to himself.
"...Can I really pull off Ransōtengai?"
Seeing Ichigo's worry-filled face, Hubert crossed his arms and let out a short laugh.
"I told you, I don't expect anything. It doesn't matter if you fail or succeed. It's impossible for a single person like you to change the course of the war. However... if you intend to burn your own life for the sake of Quincy pride, you'd better master Ransōtengai."
Hubert left the training grounds after leaving those words.
The weight of the impending war could be felt from his retreating back.
.
.
.
[......So, four years are left.]
[Oh, finally?]
[Yes, it seems 'I' have made the decision.]
[Kaha~ Is it finally time for this great me to take the stage?]
[It is not.]
[Tch, what's the problem now? Didn't you say the first generation or whatever are insanely strong?
Shouldn't this great me be the one to step out?]
[Did I not tell you? They are all cold-blooded killers. The moment you show your face, thirteen Zanpakuto will tear you limb from limb.]
[...Talk about being a buzzkill, geez.]
In someone's inner world, a white-clad man lying on a sofa chattered noisily.
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