Help! I am bound to Aizen!

Chapter 307

2-in-1 chapter:

-----------------------

Up in the stands, a young man with spiky black hair was watching the match on the platform with wide-eyed astonishment.

Down there, Shiba Isshin gripped his Zanpakutō, unleashing one dazzling move after another, driving his opponent firmly onto the defensive.

Seeing his uncle fight like that, Shiba Kaien couldn’t help his surprise—yet he felt more excitement than anything else.

All this time, his uncle had always been…well, a free spirit.

Though gifted, he never put in much effort, content to sprawl on rooftops nibbling a straw.

Many in the clan who’d once pinned their hopes on him gradually gave up, disappointed by his lazy ways.

Kaien felt bad about it.

He’d gone to Isshin before, hoping to get his uncle to train together and become the pillars of the Shiba clan’s generation.

But his uncle only joked and brushed him off. On the surface, Isshin was polite and respectful to the main family, yet Kaien knew he had no intention of working hard.

After a few attempts, Kaien gave up. He decided that relying on his uncle to uplift the Shiba name was pointless—he might as well focus on his own training.

One day, though, he heard something curious:

Isshin from the branch family had joined the Eleventh Division, serving under Kaelith.

Kaien certainly knew the name Kaelith:

A genius from the Shin’ō Academy who, within half a year of enrolling, easily defeated his homeroom instructor, passed a test administered by the Captain-Commander, and became the old man’s personal disciple.

After that, he graduated in just six months, crushed a captain-level rebellion, and indirectly brought down the Tsunayashiro revolt—his feats were legendary.

Kaien had long admired such a man.

He was thrilled for Isshin but also a bit worried, knowing Isshin’s laidback temperament. Likely, the elders of the branch family had forced him into the Gotei 13 for some hidden motive. Could Kaelith handle that slacker attitude?

Kaien half-expected to hear, any day, that Isshin got kicked out of the Eleventh. That would be awkward indeed.

He kept an eye on the Eleventh Division for a while, only to find that the expected scenario never came. So Kaien breathed easier.

After that, any further attempt to inquire about Isshin’s situation ran into a dead end.

His uncle was like a stone dropped into water—no big waves, no “headline” antics like the Eleventh’s captain, Kaelith, constantly stirred up. He kept such a low profile it was hard to believe.

If Kaien hadn’t checked with the branch family and heard that Isshin occasionally dropped by, he might have thought his uncle had died.

And so, decades slipped away.

He became very curious about how far Isshin—nearly the same age as he was—had grown. Everyone said Kaelith turned out nothing but monsters. So how monstrous was Isshin now?

With that in mind, Kaien watched the platform. And the more he watched, the more stunned he became.

That man onstage, grinning madly, blade flashing as he mowed down opponents—could that really be Shiba Isshin?

Unable to hold back, Kaien glanced off to the side. There was Kaelith, pumping his fist and cheering as if thoroughly enjoying the spectacle.

Does Captain Kaelith…experiment on people or something? Did he rebuild Isshin into some kind of machine?

In the ring, Isshin gripped his Zanpakutō in both hands, driving his noble opponent back with a storm of slashes. The other man’s sword finally slipped, creating an opening.

Isshin seized the chance, freeing one hand from his blade to smash into that gap.

“Guh—!”

Blood spurted from the noble Shinigami’s mouth, his stance completely breaking. In desperation, he unleashed his Bankai—but Isshin, still using only Shikai, took him down without difficulty.

Isshin exhaled, smiling eagerly as he looked across to where Kaelith sat near the referee’s stand.

Kaelith cheered and hollered his approval.

After a short break, Isshin returned to the platform. A tall, brawny figure covered in fur approached from the other side: Komamura Sajin.

Isshin gave a wry smile. “Ah…figures we’d run into each other so soon, huh?”

Komamura shook his head. “It’s not actually that soon. After a few more matches, the outcome of this tournament will be decided. Sir Isshin, I should warn you:

“I’m about to give this fight everything I’ve got. I’ll do whatever it takes to defeat you.

“Please don’t treat this like our normal Eleventh Division sparring sessions.

“Drop your guard, and you’ll die.”

Isshin narrowed his eyes for a moment, then asked, “So you heard about Kaelith’s promise, too?”

Komamura blinked.

He and Ichimaru Gin were the only ones who should’ve known about that promise. How did Isshin find out?

Following his hunch, Komamura glanced offstage toward Gin, who was smiling like a fox, eyes half-lidded as he waved gleefully.

That little sh... fox.

Komamura sighed inwardly, but soon composed himself.

It wasn’t worth hiding anyway—he fully intended to defeat his two close “brothers-in-arms” and secure Kaelith’s ultimate reward for himself.

Komamura’s aura shifted. Usually so upright and gentle, his wolf-like features now twisted into a snarling visage, lips curled back to bare his fangs, as though ready to devour the man in front of him.

Likewise, Isshin wore a wild grin.

“Kaelith’s promise is mine. Aizen-fukutaichō’s promise is also mine!”

What does Aizen have to do with this…? Komamura thought wearily.

But neither man hesitated. They both drew their Zanpakutō and charged.

At once, they blurred in a frenzy, exchanging a dozen-odd blows that left only flickering afterimages.

They changed angles, swapped positions, each aiming unreservedly for the other’s vitals. No holding back.

When they faced lesser opponents—those who hadn’t endured much real life-or-death combat—they could afford to fight with flair, confident of victory.

But with a fellow Eleventh Division fighter, there was no such luxury.

For them, taking the championship from anyone else in Seireitei was easier than winning it among themselves.

Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!!

Up in the stands, every spectator was stunned.

Shiba Kaien swallowed hard.

Good grief…they’re supposed to be competing for the Sixth Division captaincy, right?

Someone who didn’t know better would think they were starving beasts fighting over the last bowl of food on earth!

That man unleashing bursts of Reiatsu like some “Super Saiyan,” as some 11th-division members would say.

Was it truly Shiba Isshin?

Kaien felt the shock of his uncle’s transformation. Part of him was thrilled to see the Shiba clan producing such a powerhouse—compared to Isshin now, Kaien’s own so-called genius looked childish by comparison. With an uncle that strong, the Shiba clan’s future might be secure.

But he also marveled, wondering what Kaelith had done.

He’d tried so hard in the past to inspire Isshin, talking like family, a younger relative appealing with sincerity—yet the man never bothered to change. Then he joined the Eleventh Division under Kaelith and came out a completely different person.

Just what kind of magic does Kaelith have?

Watching Kaelith off to the side, cheering both of them on as if egging them to go even further, Kaien could only smile wryly and shake his head.

By now, the duel on the platform had reached its climax. Both combatants used their Shikai forms; every so often, Komamura’s giant Myō’ō arms or bursts of blazing flames would flash across the ring.

It was a spectacular match.

Kaelith, leaning over the referee’s table, mused that if they sold tickets to a fight like this, they’d earn a fortune.

Fwoosh!!

The flames dancing around Isshin’s face made him look half-sinister, like an asura in the flickering firelight.

He slashed fiercely, sending a fiery red dragon curling around Komamura’s defenses, leaving a deep cut along his opponent’s side.

The gash was severe, but no blood spurted out—because the flames instantly cauterized it.

Such pain would knock most people unconscious, but Komamura didn’t even flinch.

Anyone in Kaelith’s Eleventh Division who couldn’t handle injuries like that would be too ashamed to name their affiliation.

With a roar, Komamura brought his blade down in a savage strike.

Isshin was startled that even after so grievous a wound, Komamura could still mount a timely, effective counter. He tried to dodge but was half a beat too slow, earning a gash on the shoulder.

They pulled apart, eyeing each other—then both broke into manic smiles.

Spectators who knew Kaelith well recognized that smile.

It was practically a mirror of Kaelith’s own.

The Eleventh Division…once known for its rowdy brutes—now it was more like a band of fearless outlaws.

Back on the stage, both men bellowed simultaneously:

“Bankai!!!”

“Kokujō Tengen Myō’ō!!”

“Bankai!!!”

“Hakujitsu Engetsu!!”

From Komamura’s back rose a colossal armored giant.

Shinigami from the Aoi Clan gaped. According to their intel, Komamura’s Bankai was supposed to be a giant knightly figure that relied purely on brute force.

Yet the giant behind him now was nothing like that.

It carried a massive cannon over its shoulder, wore countless suspicious armor plates radiating lethal power, and even lugged a strange tank on its back, all of it exuding danger.

There was no doubt—these were monstrous weapons.

Shiba Kaien hissed in shock.

This had to be some kind of Zanpakutō Modification Technology—likely from Mayuri Kurotsuchi of the Twelfth Division. That bizarre man had used that same skill set to attain a captain’s rank.

And since Mayuri was also part of Kaelith’s group…

Kaien felt a shiver. Just how far did Kaelith’s faction extend?

If that man truly wanted to do something, could the Gotei 13 even stop him? And…would they even try?

He turned to Isshin, who hadn’t changed much outwardly.

He wore the same Shihakushō, Zanpakutō in hand.

Only one difference: a blazing sun hovered behind him. Its terrifying heat distorted the air around him.

From the noble’s seating came startled cries:

“That’s all? Such a tiny Bankai—what can it do?”

“Bankai size reflects spiritual pressure. Must be artificially forced out, right?”

“No way he can match that big dog from the Yurei’s house!”

Unlike those clueless hecklers, Komamura—along with Kaien and all the more experienced onlookers—watched Isshin’s Bankai in dead seriousness.

Its power was unmistakable.

Ichimaru Gin rubbed his chin.

Though Isshin was part of Kaelith’s circle, he’d mostly trained under Aizen. Gauging his exact level was tricky. Gin had purposely spilled the secret of Kaelith’s reward to make Isshin unleash his full strength early, letting Gin analyze him.

Kaelith himself stood behind the referee’s table, arms braced on the surface, leaning forward in excitement.

“Ooh…impressive. I wonder how it compares to Ryūjin Jakka?”

Hearing that, Rixiang Jimie—sheathed at his side—fumed inwardly, feeling jealous.

Was it not also a flame-based Zanpakutō? Why didn’t he think of it?

“Not bad, right?” came a quiet voice at his side.

Kaelith turned to see Aizen had arrived, gazing at Isshin with a slight smile.

When Aizen first took Isshin under his wing, it was because in another timeline, Isshin’s son would stand at the center of the plan’s downfall. By keeping Isshin close, Aizen could watch for signs of that future taking shape, giving him time to prepare.

But as they spent more time together, Aizen realized that this noble-born man had a lot to like.

Much like Kaelith, Isshin was straightforward: repay kindness with genuine loyalty.

Training Isshin felt like raising a toned-down version of Kaelith from scratch, which Aizen found oddly enjoyable.

And now, Isshin had grown this far. The once-clumsy fool had become a fully capable captain-class fighter.

It made Aizen feel strangely nostalgic.

..........

Onstage, both combatants unleashed their moves.

Komamura roared, commanding Tengen Myō’ō to launch its cannon, its Kidō railgun, and its flamethrower all at once—three deadly attacks that could easily kill a Lieutenant-level Shinigami.

Those blasts converged on Isshin in a raging storm of power.

Isshin’s expression remained calm until the projectiles were nearly upon him. Then he swept his sword forward:

“Reiyō—Getsuga Tenshō!!”

A crescent-shaped slash of pure white energy erupted from his blade.

Behind him, the blazing sun flared with incredible brilliance.

Dazzling white light swallowed both fighters in an instant.

You can check out here for 65 advanced chapters!

Patreon(.)com/IDKjust 

Btw you also get 2 daily chapters